Chapter 1: Arrival.

Chapter 1: Arrival in a Known Realm

As I slowly opened my eyes, blinking to clear the white spots from my vision, I couldn't shake the confusion about where I was. My hands groped around, and I gasped when I saw the pool of blood nearby. The last thing I remembered was going out with my friends for drinks at the bar down the street from my house.

Struggling to stand, I was immediately hit with dizziness that spread through my body. My hand instinctively went to my head and found it damp. Pulling my hand away, I saw it stained with blood. The stench of the street filled my nostrils; waking up in a dark alley with what seemed like a serious head wound was definitely not part of my plans from the day before.

As I realized my clothes weren't the ones I had been wearing, my confusion deepened. I scanned the alley for a reflection but found no windows. I approached a puddle near the alley entrance and knelt down, staring in disbelief at the reflection that greeted me. The first thing I noticed was that I looked much younger than I should—my bloodied face resembled that of a ten-year-old Robb Stark, a scenario that never crossed my mind among the various theories of where I might be. I slumped back, wondering what the hell was happening to me.

Straining to recall, I could barely remember my last conversation with my best friend while half-drunk, discussing Game of Thrones and debating how different characters could have had better endings.

Finding myself in a situation that had only existed in my dreams was overwhelming. The impact was so intense that all I could do was wander through the city, clutching my head and praying to any god who might be listening that this place was Winterfell, where at least my new family held power and would find me soon.

With no memories of the original Robb, I could only awkwardly smile at the commoners who shouted my name upon seeing the lord's heir. Feeling my strength wane, I collapsed face-first onto the dirt ground and lost consciousness. My last thoughts were a hope that the maester could help me once they found me.

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Lord Eddard Stark

One of the worst things that can happen to a father, no matter who they are, is being told that their son has been found injured. The pain I felt when two guards entered my study with news that Robb had been found wandering Winterfell with a bleeding head was worse than any other news, even the deaths of my father and my wife. I ran through Winterfell's stone corridors to Maester Luwin's office, desperate for news of my son.

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Maester Luwin

Maester Luwin furrowed his brow with concern as he tended to Robb Stark's head wound. The young heir lay motionless on the examination table, blood dripping from the wound. Working quickly, the maester cleaned the wound with meticulous care, his hands moving swiftly despite the urgency in his eyes.

Ned Stark's heavy footsteps echoed through Winterfell's corridors as he hurried towards Luwin's office, concern etched deeply on his brow. He pushed the door open, his cloak billowing behind him, and his gaze immediately fell upon his unconscious son.

"Luwin, how is he? Is he going to be alright?" asked Eddard Stark, his eyes wide as he leaned in to get a better view of his eldest son.

Maester Luwin briefly lifted his gaze, his face marked with concern but with a hint of reassurance in his voice.

"Lord Stark, he received a strong blow to the head. The wound is deep, but I've stopped the bleeding. Now he needs rest, and time will tell," Luwin replied as he washed his hands in a basin of water.

Ned approached the table, his heart sinking as he looked at his son, so still and pale.

"He hasn't woken up. How long has it been?" asked Eddard, swallowing hard with worry for his heir, usually so stoic but now showing his concern when alone with Maester Luwin and his injured son.

Luwin's hands continued their careful ministrations as he replied, his voice calm despite the seriousness of the situation.

"Not long, my lord. These things take time. Robb is strong; he will wake up," Luwin explained.

Ned's fists clenched at his sides, his palpable concern as he watched Luwin work.

"He must. Our family is worried for him," said Ned, mindful of the shared concern that everyone—Sansa, Jon, his mother, all—outside as he hears the verdict from the master.

Luwin finished bandaging the wound and then gently covered Robb with a blanket, stepping back to allow Ned to approach.

"He will, Lord Stark. Give him time. The Old Gods are kinder to some than others," Luwin said.

Ned nodded, his gaze never leaving his son's face.

"Thank you, Luwin. Keep me informed of any changes," said Ned, giving the master space to continue with his heir's treatment.

Luwin nodded in response, his expression serious.

Luwin: "Of course, my lord."

Ned remained a moment longer, his hand gently stroking Robb's hair before turning to leave the room. As the door closed behind him, Maester Luwin's gaze returned to his young charge, a silent prayer on his lips for Robb Stark's swift recovery in uncertain times.

---

Eddard Stark

Ned emerged from Maester Luwin's office with heavy steps, meeting his wife Catelyn and the other Stark family members who waited anxiously outside. All eyes were on him, desperately searching for some sign of hope on his face.

"How is Robb? Is he going to be okay?" asked Cat, her voice trembling, gripping Ned's hand firmly for comfort.

Ned tried to convey calm through his gaze, though his own thoughts were troubled.

"Luwin is doing everything he can. The wound is serious, but he's stable. He says we need to give him time," Ned replied, feeling the weight of responsibility on his shoulders.

Sansa and Arya approached, worried, while Bran and Rickon watched in silence, not fully understanding the gravity of the situation but sensing the tension in the air. Theon and Jon were in the back, worried, but trusted Ned enough to wait for him to end the explanation.

"Is he going to wake up soon, Dad?" asked Sansa with a trembling voice and watering eyes, seeking answers that would offer hope.

Ned nodded solemnly, trying to keep hope alive in his words.

"Yes, Sansa. Luwin believes so. Robb is strong, like his mother and father. Everything will be alright," Ned said, trying to instill confidence in his children.

Arya stared at her father, her jaw tense as she struggled to contain her emotions.

"Can I see him?" asked Arya urgently, needing to see with her own eyes that her brother was okay.

Ned embraced her tenderly, feeling the fragility of his family in this moment of uncertainty.

"Soon, Arya. Let's give Luwin time. He'll keep us informed," Ned replied, comforting his daughter.

Catelyn clung to Ned, a mixture of relief and concern crossing her eyes as they looked towards the closed door of the master's office.

"Robb has to wake up. He has to be okay," said Catelyn with determination, expressing her deep desire.

Ned nodded, his voice full of determination as he looked at his gathered family.

"He will be, Catelyn. We're in this together. And together, we'll get through this," Ned affirmed with conviction.

The Starks embraced each other, finding comfort in family unity as they anxiously awaited Robb's return to consciousness and health.

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Robb Stark

Robb Stark remained in a state of deep unconsciousness, but in his mind, he had a vision of two entities of exceptional size. He instinctively understood that these beings were the "Entities" from Worm , beings that bestowed powers in a parallel universe very different from Westeros, where he now found himself.

In his vision, he watched as the shards divided and communicated with each other, exchanging parts of themselves with a precision that defied understanding. Robb understood that these entities were linked to the powers he now possessed, but he did not understand why or how they were interacting with him in this different universe.

As the vision slowly faded, Robb clung to these newly acquired insights, aware that something monumental had occurred. Meanwhile, his family waited anxiously outside Maester Luwin's office, unaware of the true nature of the transformation Robb was undergoing or the complexities of the entities now tied to his fate.