GoT Shadowborn: The Rise of Ashford

Ethan Ashford had always been untouchable. A billionaire tech mogul with a mind that outpaced even the most cutting-edge technology, Ethan had built his empire from the ground up. He didn't just create companies; he created revolutions. From AI innovations to advancements in cybersecurity, every venture he touched turned to gold. His name was a legend in the business world, and his influence stretched far beyond the boundaries of corporate America. He was a god in the world of data and wealth, and the world bent to his will.

But no amount of success could silence the void that gnawed at his insides. He had it all—money, power, influence, respect—but when the meetings ended and the deals were signed, when the endless sea of accolades had grown stale, Ethan was left with one undeniable truth: he was alone. His family was gone, his friends were mere sycophants, and his lover, a fleeting distraction, had long since disappeared from his life.

The emptiness of his life gnawed at him like a relentless hunger. His every waking hour was consumed with work, with building something that could fill the gaping hole in his soul. Yet no matter how many billions he amassed, how many skyscrapers he owned, how many luxury cars and mansions he possessed, nothing ever seemed to ease the ache. He longed for something deeper, something that couldn't be bought, a sense of immortality—a legacy that transcended the ephemeral nature of wealth and fame.

But on that particular evening, something would happen that would change everything.

The night was heavy with rain, the kind that seemed to strike in endless sheets, drenching the city in a cold, unforgiving mist. Ethan sat at his desk in his penthouse office on the 45th floor of Ashford Tower, a building that stretched into the clouds, a testament to his unyielding ambition. His fingers tapped the surface of his glass desk, his thoughts elsewhere, distracted by the storm that raged outside and the sinking feeling in his chest. Despite his success, despite everything, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. That feeling was confirmed when the phone on his desk rang. It was an unknown number.

"Mr. Ashford," a frantic voice came through the receiver. "We have a problem. There's a breach in the system—someone has gotten inside. We don't know who they are, but they've bypassed everything. Your security is compromised."

Ethan's heart skipped a beat. He had built the most sophisticated firewall, the most impenetrable security systems money could buy. Nothing had ever breached it. No one had ever gotten past his defenses. "How is that possible?" he demanded, rising from his chair.

"We're not sure, sir. It's unlike anything we've ever seen. They're in deep, and we're not sure how long we have until—"

The line suddenly cut off, leaving Ethan standing in the silence of his office, his pulse racing. A cold dread crept up his spine. Something wasn't right. It was rare for him to feel fear, but in that moment, he felt it deep in his bones. He reached for his phone again, but it slipped from his hand and crashed to the floor. The screen flickered for a moment before it went black.

Then, the lights in the penthouse flickered—first once, then again—before going out completely. The power surged, leaving Ethan in darkness. A sense of panic gripped him. He fumbled for his phone, his mind racing. He had to leave. His first instinct was to make it to the elevator, to escape, but the sinking feeling that something was about to happen paralyzed him.

The floor beneath him groaned, as if the building itself was waking up from a deep slumber. The ground beneath his feet shifted, and for a moment, Ethan thought the building was under attack. He dashed toward the stairwell, but something in the air had changed—something thick, oppressive, as if the very atmosphere had grown heavier, suffocating him. He could feel it—a presence. A force. It was coming for him.

Just as he reached for the door to the stairwell, the air around him seemed to freeze. It felt as if the entire world held its breath. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, and his heart raced. He turned slowly, feeling a weight in the pit of his stomach.

And then he saw it.

A figure stood at the far end of the hallway, bathed in the pale, flickering light of the emergency lamps. The figure was tall, impossibly so, cloaked in dark robes that fluttered around him like shadows themselves. His face was obscured by a hood, but Ethan could feel his presence—cold, menacing, ancient.

It was then that Ethan realized: he wasn't dealing with a mere hacker or intruder. This was something far beyond his comprehension.

The figure spoke in a voice that echoed in Ethan's mind, smooth and dark, as though the words were not just heard but felt in his very soul. "You are Ethan Ashford. The billionaire. The tech god. The man who seeks immortality."

Ethan's mind raced as he struggled to understand. He tried to back away, but his feet were frozen to the floor. "What... what do you want?" His voice was shaky, betraying the fear he was trying so hard to suppress.

"You've been summoned," the figure said, taking a step forward. "And your time has come. Your wealth, your power, your empire—it means nothing now. You are not the master of your fate, not anymore."

Suddenly, everything around him seemed to shift. The walls of his penthouse blurred, the lights dimming further as the room seemed to warp. The figure moved toward him with a speed that defied human limits, and before Ethan could react, the figure thrust a long, gleaming blade into his side. The pain was immediate, excruciating, and everything in Ethan's body screamed in protest. Blood poured from the wound, and Ethan fell to his knees, clutching at his chest as the world around him spiraled into darkness.

The figure loomed above him, his face still hidden in the shadows. "Your death is not the end, Ashford. It is merely the beginning."

Ethan tried to speak, tried to protest, but his strength faded quickly. The world was slipping away, and he could feel his life draining from him with every passing second. As the darkness closed in, his thoughts became frantic, racing in every direction. I can't die. Not like this. Not now. Not when everything I've worked for is still so far from completion.

But no matter how hard he tried, no matter how desperately he fought to cling to life, his vision blurred, and his final breath was lost in the abyss.

The next time Ethan opened his eyes, the world was silent, still. He felt... different. As though his body had been reshaped, remade. He could taste the air differently, feel it coursing through his veins like fire. His heartbeat, once slow and steady, now pounded with a primal rhythm, and he could hear every movement in the darkness around him.

His senses were heightened in ways he couldn't explain. His muscles, once human and frail, felt strong—unnaturally so. Power surged within him, an ancient, unfathomable power. The room he found himself in was nothing like his luxurious penthouse. Cold stone walls surrounded him, the faintest trace of mildew in the air, and the smell of decay.

He sat up, his body feeling both foreign and familiar at once. As he rose to his feet, he found that the world around him had changed entirely. He wasn't in his high-rise office anymore. The bright lights of the city had been replaced by a world that felt ancient—almost timeless.

Before he could fully process what was happening, a figure stepped into the dim light. He was tall, pale, with sharp features that betrayed nothing of his thoughts. The man's eyes were deep and knowing, a cold gleam flickering in the darkness.

"You have awoken, Lord Ashford," the figure said, his voice both reverent and calculating.

Ethan's mouth went dry. "What... what is this? Where am I?"

The man smiled, though there was no warmth in it. "You are in the land of Westeros, a place where time flows differently. And you, Lord Ashford, are no longer the man you once were. You are the progenitor of a new race—the Vampire Lords. The ancient bloodline."

Ethan staggered back, trying to process what he was hearing. Vampires? Progenitor? The pieces didn't fit together.

Before he could respond, the man continued. "You were chosen, summoned here after your death in your world. A force greater than yourself has deemed you worthy of this new existence. You were meant to rule, to build an empire that spans not just this world but beyond it."

Ethan swallowed, his mind reeling. He remembered his last moments—dying in his penthouse, stabbed by that shadowy figure. But this? This was beyond anything he could comprehend.

The figure stepped forward, his expression unreadable. "You will find that you are not alone in this world, Lord Ashford. There are others like you. And together, you will reshape Westeros in your image. But first, you must learn to embrace your new nature. The hunger, the power, the eternity."

The hunger. Ethan felt it then—a deep, gnawing emptiness in the pit of his stomach, something that couldn't be filled with food, but with something much darker. Something much more dangerous.

He was no longer just a man. He was something else entirely.

The world had changed, and Ethan Ashford would rise again. But this time, he would be a force of darkness—a ruler of vampires. And no one, not even the gods themselves, could stand in his way.

"Let's begin," he whispered, his voice dripping with newfound power. The world would soon know his name. And they would tremble.