There was no light.
No shape. No sound. Just nothing.
Not the quiet of sleep. Not the stillness of death. This was something older. Something colder. A blank canvas where time did not tick and names meant nothing.
And I was trapped in it.
Or perhaps... I was it.
I didn't know who I was at first. Not truly. I felt like a word half-remembered, a fire long gone cold.
But then something stirred in the dark.
[Initializing Soul Transfer Protocol...]
[92%... 98%... 100% — SUCCESSFUL.]
A ripple passed through the void — and with it, memory came flooding back.
Earth.
A dying, steel-wrapped world. The buzz of machines. The loneliness of sleepless nights.
And me — a 22-year-old man who loved empires more than people, history more than life, and dragons more than gods.
Then... death. And now — this.
[Welcome, User. Transcendent Soul from Earth successfully bound.]
[Host Body: Aegon of House Targaryen — Age: 1 Month]
[Location: Dragonstone. Year: 18 B.C. (Before Conquest)]
Aegon of House Targaryen.
Not just a name. Not just a lord.
The Aegon. The one who would conquer Westeros. The father of a dynasty. The first dragon king.
And now — I was him.
Or rather, I was inside him.
[Sovereign Conquest System Activated. Class: Dragon God Emperor]
[Soul Class: Transcendent Earth-Origin]
[Elemental Affinities: Fire, Water, Earth, Air — UNSEALED]
A system? A game?
No. Something far more profound.
This was not Earth's childish escapism.
This was power. Real. Living. Ancient.
The Sovereign System, made to shape emperors.
And I was its first user in this world.
I lay in a Valyrian silk cradle, unable to lift my head, but thoughts raced like wildfire. Memories of two worlds swirled within me.
And so began my second life. As a godling in a cradle. As Aegon, First of His Name.
But I was not alone.
In the shadows, something stirred.
And fire waited for me to claim it.