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GAME OF THRONES:The legend of a New Dragonlord.(A GOT FANFIC)

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Fantasía
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Warning: AI generated, I have just created 'A basic outline for my version of a GOT/HOD fanfic . would like Someone skilled and experienced to pick it up and recreate it . In the realm of House of the Dragon, a modern soul found itself reincarnated with memories intact. As the ethereal threads of fate wove around him, he made two wishes that echoed through time and space. First, he desired a dragon of unparalleled strength and resilience. Second, he yearned for a body reminiscent of Captain America, a super soldier. The ancient ritual commenced, and his essence merged with the mythical beast known as the Cannibal. A creature feared by many, its scales shimmered with an otherworldly glow. The bond formed between the man and the dragon was instant and unbreakable. With his newfound companion, the modern soul embraced his enhanced physique. Strength surged through his veins, and agility became second nature. As he stood before the court of House Targaryen, his appearance turned heads. Clad in armor that seemed to meld seamlessly with his body, he radiated a presence that mirrored legends. The dragon, the Cannibal, towered beside him, its eyes reflecting the same intelligence as its rider. Together, they became an unstoppable force. In battles, the duo was a whirlwind of power and strategy, leaving adversaries in awe. As the years unfolded, tales of the modern man and his dragon spread far and wide. House Targaryen flourished under their protection, and the once-skeptical court now hailed them as heroes. The man from another time had seamlessly integrated into the intricate tapestry of Westeros. Yet, amid triumphs and victories, the modern soul sometimes gazed at the distant horizon, a flicker of longing in his eyes. Memories of a world left behind lingered, a quiet reminder of a life that once was. And so, beneath the dragon banners, he forged a new legacy, a saga of a modern soul reborn in the age of dragons.

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Chapter 1Chapter 1: Awakening in the Void

The last thing he remembered was the blinding light, the screeching of tires, and the echo of a world abruptly cut short. Then, darkness.

As consciousness slowly returned, he found himself in a space devoid of color or form. A vast, white emptiness stretched endlessly in every direction. He stood in this liminal void, aware of his own existence but uncertain of what lay ahead.

Suddenly, a figure materialized before him—an enigmatic entity that seemed to defy the emptiness around. The being radiated an otherworldly presence, and its voice echoed like distant thunder.

"I am the Observer, the one who oversees the tapestry of existence," the entity declared, its form indistinct yet strangely familiar. "You have traversed realms, and now, at the crossroads of fate, you stand."

Questions crowded the mind of the bewildered soul. "Where am I? What happened to the world I knew?"

"You have departed the old world, your previous existence," the Observer explained. "Yet, your journey is far from over. Another realm awaits—a land of dragons and intrigue."

As the soul grappled with this revelation, the Observer continued, "You hold the power to shape your destiny. I offer you two wishes, two desires that shall define your rebirth."

A myriad of possibilities danced before the soul's eyes. Wealth, knowledge, or even immortality—they all beckoned. But he pondered, considering the world he was to enter and the challenges he might face.

"I wish for a dragon of unparalleled strength and resilience," he declared, conviction in his voice. "And a body, a vessel, akin to the legendary super soldiers of my old world."

The Observer's form rippled as if nodding in acknowledgment. "Your wishes are accepted. The Cannibal shall be your dragon, and your body shall embody the pinnacle of mortal strength."

Yet, as the soul began to entertain more whimsical desires, the Observer interjected. "There are limits to what can be granted. The essence of balance must be maintained. Certain wishes disrupt the fabric of existence."

Undeterred, the soul contemplated his choices. The weight of his decisions lingered, a prelude to the odyssey that awaited in the realm of Westeros. With the wishes made and accepted, the white void began to fade, and the soul felt the pull of a new reality.

As the emptiness dissolved, the soul glimpsed the silhouette of a dragon against a backdrop of fire and ice—a harbinger of the journey that awaited in the world of House of the Dragon.

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GrimmTheWarlock
GrimmTheWarlockLv4

I've read up to chapter 8, and while the story isn't bad, there's something about it that makes me not want to continue reading it, and I can't tell what it is. Perhaps it's the impression that the story was generated by A.I. (which I don't know if it's true), but from what I've been playing with in generating the story and text by Arie, the Opera Browser A.I., I've noticed several details that are also in the story that would suggest the use of A.I., such as a heavy emphasis on mysteries, an emphasis on the protagonist being a good character, or sentences that, while grammatically and logically correct, seem odd, as if the human element is missing. And while I personally have nothing against artificial intelligence, and use it myself occasionally to draw inspiration on a topic, I'm unlikely to read further. I'll provide the text generated by A.I below for comparison: Create the story of the young magician Arthur. Arthur, a name whispered with a mix of awe and trepidation in the magical circles of the realm, was a young mage of enigmatic origin. He possessed a power that seemed to defy categorization, a blend of arcane knowledge and raw, untamed magic that pulsed beneath his skin like a living thing. No one knew where he came from, or how he'd acquired his abilities. Some whispered of a forgotten lineage, of a bloodline that traced back to the very dawn of magic, while others claimed he was a child of the wild, born from the raw essence of the world itself. Arthur’s earliest memories were fragmented, filled with flashes of swirling colors and whispers of ancient tongues. He remembered being raised in a secluded cottage nestled within a dense, ancient forest, his only companions the rustling leaves and the murmuring streams. His mentor, a wizened old woman with eyes that held the wisdom of centuries, taught him the fundamentals of magic, but she never spoke of his origins, only of his destiny. Arthur, with his raw power and unwavering determination, was a force to be reckoned with. He became a beacon of hope for those seeking to fight the darkness, a symbol of resistance against the encroaching shadows. He knew his destiny was intertwined with the fate of the world, and he was ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead. The mystery of his origin remained, a haunting question that fueled his journey, but he knew one thing for certain: he was destined to become a legend, a hero, a warrior of light in a world consumed by darkness.

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