Aegon remained silent for a few seconds after mentioning the dragon eggs.
But his mind was far from Pentos.
Too far.
The rumors were not simple tavern exaggerations. Not when so many were piling up, so quickly and in such precise directions. Gregor Clegane was not a reformer. He had never been. Terrence Celtigar was not a military genius nor a tamer of monsters. And the Dothraki… they would never have accepted a structured religion of their own free will.
Each of those changes was a scar upon history.
Recent scars.
Far too recent.
This is not the butterfly effect, Aegon thought coldly.
This is direct intervention.
Someone—no, several someones—were pushing the world with knowledge that did not belong to it. With ideas, inventions, and concepts that should not exist in this era.
Refined white salt.
Solid soap.
Modern military formations.
Redesigned religions.
That was not medieval improvisation.
It was modern thinking.
It was Earth.
Aegon tightened his fingers slightly.
He did not know those travelers. He did not know how many there were. He did not know which worlds they came from or what advantages they carried with them. But he did know one thing:
They knew the story.
And anyone who knew the story of Game of Thrones knew that this world did not forgive mistakes.
If even one of those travelers decided to move too far ahead…
If even one obtained dragons, armies, or religious legitimacy ahead of time…
The balance would break.
And when that happened, there would be no way to go back.
Before, Aegon had held a clear advantage.
He knew the plot.
He knew the key events.
He knew the names, the betrayals, the inevitable deaths.
But now…
The fog was closing in.
The future was no longer a laid-out path, but a battlefield shrouded in shadows, where each traveler waited for the right moment to strike.
We are all waiting for the beginning of the plot, he thought.
But not for the same reasons.
Some would wait to exploit the chaos.
Others to steal the spotlight.
Others to become gods.
And some… simply to survive.
Aegon knew he could not afford passivity.
If the other travelers were already moving pieces—creating technologies, religions, monsters, and legends—then remaining in the shadows would be equivalent to dying slowly.
He needed dragons.
Not as symbols.
As weapons.
As absolute deterrence.
Dragons did not only burn armies. They burned alternate futures. They forced players to reveal their cards.
That was why Pentos was crucial.
That was why Illyrio was crucial.
That was why Daenerys… was crucial.
Illyrio, unaware of the storm forming in Aegon's mind, continued speaking in a conciliatory tone.
"The eggs are ancient relics, Your Majesty. Objects of great value… but useless to most."
Aegon looked at him steadily.
"Useless to those who do not know how to use them."
Illyrio felt an inexplicable chill.
Aegon added nothing more. He did not need to.
If there were other time travelers in this world, then sooner or later they would collide.
Not for ideals.
Not for justice.
But for control of the future.
And in that game…
Only the one who moved one step ahead of the others would survive.