Echoes of Perfection

Time passed quickly, and the years brought notable changes. Aegon, now only five years old, possessed the body of a boy eight to ten years old. His violet eyes, a clear inheritance of his Valyrian lineage, shone with an intelligence that few could comprehend. From the beginning, Aegon knew he needed to hide his true potential. His early years were a constant exercise in self-control, a delicate balance between displaying enough skill to be noticed and avoiding any excessive demonstrations that could raise suspicions or make his parents and tutors uncomfortable.

As time went by and his body grew faster than expected, a new force began to emerge within Aegon. It was an almost uncontrollable desire to show the world his superiority, an intense need to stand out and assert himself. However, he knew that premature exposure of his abilities could bring unwanted questions, so he continued to act with extreme caution.

One of the areas where Aegon allowed his talent to be perceived, though carefully controlled, was during his fencing training with his father, Illyrio. Since he was very young, Illyrio, who had been an excellent swordsman in his youth, began training Aegon in the art of the sword. The training field was a place of peace for Aegon, a place where he could express his skill without fear of judgment. Every time he touched a sword, a strange and deep sensation of pleasure arose within him. The gleam of the steel, the balanced weight in his hands, the feeling of the perfect strike—these elements made him extremely happy. He came to admire every different sword he saw, observing every detail with an almost obsessive fascination.

In the training field, Aegon had already nearly matched his father. Although Illyrio still had the upper hand, Aegon was always a step behind, calculating each movement and mistake with precision. He made a conscious effort to appear less skilled than he really was, a deliberate effort to avoid raising suspicions. Every deflected strike, every failed move, was part of his plan to keep his true capacity hidden.

During one of these training sessions, Illyrio watched his son with visible pride. "You're definitely a genius," Illyrio said, with a smile that reflected his sincere pride as Aegon blocked a strike with impressive dexterity. "You'll even surpass the greatest knight the Targaryens have ever produced, Aemon, the Dragon Prince." Illyrio smiled even more, his gaze shining with paternal pride. "I've lost count of how many times I've commented on your genius since you were born."

Aegon paused for a moment, absorbing his father's praise. In his past life, he had been an ordinary person, without anything special. Now, in this new life, he was definitely a genius, and the praise he received since arriving in this world had a profound impact on him. Each word of recognition about his perfections made him strangely happy, more than usual, fueling a growing ambition to achieve perfection.

Later, during dinner, Aegon sat at the table with Illyrio and Serra. The meal was a time of camaraderie and conversation, where topics ranged from trivial matters to discussions about Illyrio's business and plans. Aegon listened attentively, absorbing every word with an eager mind. Serra, who had a protective gaze over young Aegon, occasionally cast worried looks at him.

"He's growing too fast," Serra commented, her voice laden with genuine concern. "Not just in body, but also in mind. Sometimes, I feel like he's… older than he appears."

Illyrio nodded slowly, his eyes scrutinizing Aegon with renewed interest. "He's special, Serra. We've always known that. He has Valyrian blood, ancient blood magic runs in his veins, after all."

Eventually, the dinner conversation came to an end. The relaxed atmosphere of the dining hall gave way to the soft silence of the night. The family retired to their chambers, and Aegon went to his room, his body tired from the day but his mind still restless with thoughts and reflections.

That same night, Aegon fell into a deep sleep, his body relaxed from a day full of activities and training. However, his mind did not rest so easily. During sleep, he began to dream.

In the dream, he saw himself standing in front of a mirror. However, instead of seeing the five-year-old boy he was, Aegon saw an adult man. Tall, imposing, clad in violet and golden armor that radiated power and majesty. The armor was robust and intricate, making him appear larger than any ordinary human. The reflection in the mirror looked at him with the same violet eyes, but there was an intensity, a nearly transcendental perfection that Aegon recognized immediately.

Suddenly, the reflection smiled, a smile that radiated an almost supernatural confidence and an unattainable perfection, and then spoke with a high-pitched and almost melodious voice: "We are perfect, Aegon."

Aegon's heart raced at those words, and he woke abruptly, the dream still vivid in his mind. Sitting on the bed, he breathed deeply as he reflected on what he had just seen. It did not take long for him to recognize the man in the mirror. Fulgrim. The Primarch of the Emperor's Children from Warhammer 40k, one of the characters he had admired so much in his past life.

Aegon felt a wave of understanding wash over him. The sensations he had experienced—the pleasure of holding a sword, the desire for praise, the quest for perfection—everything now made sense. Somehow, he was Fulgrim, and Fulgrim was him.

For a moment, Aegon remained silent, processing this revelation. He knew what Fulgrim represented—the relentless pursuit of perfection, the almost destructive pride, and, eventually, the fall. But Aegon did not want to follow the same path that led Fulgrim to ruin.

With this new awareness, Aegon made a decision. He would accept the changes in his personality, embrace what Fulgrim represented, but he would do so with caution. He would live as Fulgrim, yes, but without making the same mistakes. He would be perfect, but in a way that preserved his humanity and avoided the tragedy he knew could befall him.

At dawn, Aegon was determined to begin a new chapter in his life, integrating Fulgrim's genius with a more balanced and prudent approach. He was prepared to face the challenges ahead, aware that his path would be different, guided by a desire for excellence that would not forsake his humanity and values.