GOT: The Rise Of House Blackfyre
In the land of Westeros, there existed a house shrouded in mystery and infamy, known as House Blackfyre. Born from bastard blood, their lineage was forever stained, forever marked by their illicit origins. And yet, they dared to rise above their ignoble beginnings, adopting a name borrowed from a sword that had never rightfully belonged to them. They craved a place of power, yearned for a throne that was never destined to be theirs. Throughout the annals of history, House Blackfyre had become a symbol of failure, a tale of repeated defeats and shattered dreams. But what if fate had a different plan in store for them? What if, against all odds, they could finally rewrite their tragic narrative? Amidst the turbulent backdrop of Westeros, a man emerged—a man shaped and molded by a childhood steeped in violence, honed by a upbringing of bloodshed. Raised to fight from an early age, he possessed a fierce determination that burned deep within his soul. Unbeknownst to him, he held the key to altering the course of this fictional world, ignorant of the past, present, and future that awaited him. Could this man, reincarnated into the heart of a house that had always faltered, gather the scattered remnants of his ancestry and forge them into a formidable force within the treacherous game of thrones? Would he be able to assemble the fragmented pieces of House Blackfyre, long-held grudges, and forgotten alliances, and unite them in pursuit of a shared ambition? Dear readers, I am but a humble narrator, bound to recount the tales of this extraordinary man who dared to challenge the predestined future of Westeros. His journey was fraught with uncertainty, his path beset with countless obstacles. Yet, he possessed a relentless spirit, one that refused to bow to the weight of history. As House Blackfyre, reborn in a crucible of adversity, set foot upon the stage once more, the realm held its breath. Would this be the moment when the shadows of the past were dispelled, and the name of Blackfyre would no longer be synonymous with defeat? Only time would reveal the answer, as this audacious man set forth to claim his place among the great houses, to reshape the destiny of Westeros, and to rewrite the legends that had already been etched upon its storied tapestry. [No chapters on the weekends.]
Chapter 1: Before The Inevitable Reincarnation
Before participating in the game of thrones, the man who would soon be reincarnated had another identity.
Rex Burkman.
Not a name all women would love but a name nonetheless, but unlike most babies Rex never knew a mothers warmth.
Cast out as a newborn, he had to grow up in a system that never wanted him in the first place.
Many believed this the reason that Rex walked down the path he did while implying the symbolism that he was so cold because he never experienced the warmth of love.
However the majority thought otherwise, in fact they all believed he used this as a cover since all who really knew him thought of Rex as a man who knew no love, and instead one who craved death.
His bloodthirst only grew as time passed and people sought to take advantage of this, only to realize the horror of their own greed.
Rex became a monolith of what every fighter strove to be, he was ruthless in the ring and never surrendered even when his flame of life was on the verge of wisping away.
Because Rex only wanted one thing, blood.
It was what he craved, if he didn't spill that forbidden scarlet nectar every once and a while people would say he would go mad.
The bloodthirst only seemed to fuel his desires for battle as they at one point converged into one being that made up his entirety.
However he is only human, a man bound like the rest of us to the grueling fate of time and with it age.
It did not stop his victories but it did stop the popularity because once he reached forty no one cared to watch him fight anymore.
Maybe it was due to the new generation taking over or his constant wins because after a while people stopped caring for Rex.
And once they stopped caring, they stopped giving him an excuse to fight which led Rex down a dark path.
Frustrated, he had to only comply with the fighting organizations to stop fighting in their rings but that didn't mean he would stop fighting.
In fact, later in life Rex would describe this as their last gift towards him because it was with this decision that led him to the underworld.
He didn't care much for riches or wealth; however, seeing how wealthy people liked watching others drown in their own suffering, he had an idea.
This idea formed into the horrid abomination known as the death battles in which one would literally fight to the death until no challengers remained for that day.
Immediately it became a huge success and with it, more investors willing to give money to watch the spectacle, and with that a new opportunity to satisfy his demons.
Rex had to learn many things before putting his work of art into place but mainly how to lead.
It wasn't hard to gain loyal subordinates since humans tend to idolize the martial prowess in a man more than the actual ability to lead.
This inexperienced led Rex to many failures but eventually through sheer hard work and determination to draw more blood, he founded his dream.
Of course, he had to learn various things like laundering money and smuggling but that didn't matter to him.
The only thing that mattered was fighting and forcefully drawing the life out of his opponents.
Now at the pinnacle of his success, Rex stood in his office and gazed at his opponents for tomorrow.
Scars became like a lotion for Rex as they were lathered all over his entire being to the point where it took up more space than his actual real skin.
"Weak." Rex muttered as he threw the papers to the side.
The fighters all promised to fight him were all out of their prime which only seemed to frustrate him.
"Damn f*ckers." Rex scoffed, knowing full well it was his trusted subordinates who were trying to make him win to spare their hearts from his glory filled death.
Turning around, Rex gazed out his window and marveled at the view of the setting sun yet a frown appeared.
Whenever Rex looked at the sun, it served as a reminder of the passage of times and the aging of his rotting bones.
*THUMP*
Rex's heart thumped out of his chest before his hands instinctively grasped the area in which it was located.
"No!" Rex whispered in urgency as his face showed something no one had ever seen it display, fear.
*THUMP*
"URGH!" Rex groaned in pain as his bulky body hit the ground before him causing a loud thud to resound.
*THUMP*
*THUMP*
*THUMP*
Rex gritted his teeth as he started pounding his fist against the area in hopes of trying to restart his heart manually though he failed.
This only served to grant him more pain as his eyes became bloodshot whilst showing a look of unwillingness.
"Let......….let me fight to the death one more time." Rex muttered before the blood in his heart stopped pumping.
As his breath slowly diminished and the life started to fade from Rex's eyes, he gazed up at the ceiling with only hatred.
Maybe this was fate's way of punishing him since it knew that Rex wouldn't want to die any other way except in the midst of battle.
Then as a small gust blew, the life within Rex disappeared signaling the end of Rex Burkman, or was it?
Instead of disappearing, his soul seemed to actually start to transcend the reality it was supposed to be shackled in as it shot out into an unknown space.
Though Rex Burkman might have died a lousy death in his office, his will and soul seemed to carry on which to some is all that matters.