Chapter 1

In the shadow of Winterfell's First Keep, Bran Stark stood grounded, his gaze fixed upwards towards the looming tower where his younger self had embarked on a fateful climb. Looking up from below, Bran witnessed the unfolding tragedy with a sense of helpless foreknowledge.

"Bran!" His voice echoed through the courtyard, a desperate cry tinged with urgency and dread. "Bran! Bran!"

Each call seemed to rebound off the ancient stone walls, a haunting refrain that spoke of impending catastrophe. Above, in the tower's chambers, Jaime Lannister and Cersei Lannister were engaged in a secretive rendezvous, unaware of the approaching calamity.

As Bran's shouts grew more frantic, the scene above played out like a recurring nightmare. Jaime, known as the Kingslayer at that time, stood by the window, his hand tightly holding young Bran Stark. Beside him, Cersei's expression shifted from surprise to fear as they realized they had been discovered.

"Bran!" His voice cracked with anguish, a last-ditch effort to alter the cruel course of fate.

"No!" his mind echoed.

With a swift, decisive motion, Jaime pushed Bran's younger self out of the window, a desperate act born of necessity and secrecy. Time seemed to elongate into a surreal crawl for Bran as he witnessed his younger self falling through the air, the surroundings swirling in a disorienting spin.

Bran is haunted by that life-changing moment, experiencing it repeatedly. No matter how much he struggles, fate cannot be changed. The past replays in front of him endlessly. In the end, he opens his eyes with a serene acceptance, tinged with regret and disappointment.

Amidst the chaos and the echoes of his own name, Bran's eyes opened peacefully, their depths tinged with disappointment and remorse.

As Bran opened his eyes, he witnessed people far away in the streets of the kingdom crying for their loved ones who died in the great battle for the iron throne. Amidst all the chaos, Tyrion approached from behind. Before Tyrion could speak, Bran nodded knowingly.

"Yes, Lord Tyrion," Bran said quietly.

Tyrion, slightly surprised, reminded himself that Bran's foresight made anything possible.

"Your Grace, the council of ministers requested your presence."

"This early?" Bran pondered, recognizing the danger was already at their door.

Bran nodded and said, "Yes, we must proceed. It's time."

Tyrion escorted Bran to his kingdom. Along the way, Bran noticed all the monuments and buildings that had been destroyed in the battle had been restored just like before.

"I'm pleased with your astounding work," Bran remarked.

"Ser Davos and I enlisted the help of the Red Priestess for these restorations," Tyrion replied.

"The lady who saved my brother?"

"Yes, Your Grace."

And as they reached the Red Keep, the grand hall of the Red Keep buzzed with anticipation. The Iron Throne, now gleaming and restored to its former glory, stood at the far end, with a single crow perched atop, a symbol of Bran's connection to the ravens and his unique powers. The hall was filled with nobles, ministers, and courtiers, all waiting for their new king.

Bran, with Tyrion by his side, made his way through the hall. The crowd parted reverently, heads bowed in respect. As they approached the throne, the murmurs of the crowd hushed into an expectant silence. Bran ascended the steps slowly, his presence commanded the attention of all gathered.

Tyrion took his place beside the throne, nodding to Bran, who then turned to face his subjects. With a solemn grace, Bran sat upon the Iron Throne. The weight of his new responsibility settled upon his shoulders, yet his expression remained calm and composed.

Tyrion stepped forward, his voice clear and strong, "All hail King Bran the Broken, First of His Name, Protector of the Realm, and Keeper of the Six Kingdoms!"

The crowd responded with renewed vigor, their cheers and applause louder than before. The loyalty and hope of the realm were with Bran, their new king. As the chants of "Hail King Bran!" continued to fill the hall, Bran looked out over his subjects, his eyes reflected both the weight of his responsibility and the promise of a new era for Westeros.