What Happened Next? An AI-Penned 'Game of Thrones' Sequel — Jon Hunts New Walkers, Bran Spies on Drogon

It’s been ten years since the Game of Thrones finale. Grey Worm and the Unsullied keep order on the islands. Bran the Broken still sits on the throne, though it’s no longer iron — it’s a comfy swivel chair, complete with a ramp in the palace. The kingdom is obedient and, frankly, boring.

Even Bronn, now Master of Coin, grumbles that no one wants a good battle anymore, nor the chance to hit the brothel afterward — everyone’s too busy crunching budgets and fixing bridges. It’s the worst twist for a world where fans craved blood, dragons, and betrayals.

So, what happened next? Here’s the AI’s take on how the beloved story might have evolved. HBO long dreamed of spinoffs about Jon and Arya but never quite nailed the plots.

Bran’s Nightmares

The Night King is dead, but the unease remains. Bran the Three-Eyed Raven dreams nightly — of flying, wings flapping, fire blazing against a black sky. Drogon still roams free. And Bran senses him.

What frightens Bran most isn’t Drogon’s power but his purpose. The dragon isn’t aimless. He’s searching. Mourning, perhaps? Protecting? Maybe a clutch of eggs? The Three-Eyed Raven can’t tell. The fiery beast unsettles him.

"I saw him in the flames," Bran tells Tyrion. "He’s lonely but not forgotten."

Jon and the New Threat

Meanwhile, Jon Snow — forgotten by all but the North — wanders beyond the Wall with the Free Folk. No longer donning black, no one calls him King, though he leads the Free People.

The nights grow colder than ever. Tales abound of a new threat lurking in the farthest northern wilds — lands so forbidden even the First Men dared not tread. Snow crunches unnaturally underfoot, wolves howl endlessly, ancient trees whisper.

Jon pushes further where maps end, seeking something even Tormund fears.

It’s not White Walkers — those days are done. But magic in Westeros never fully dies. Perhaps the Children of the Forest prepared…

Arya and the Blue Unknown

Arya Stark did not perish, go mad, or return — becoming a legend instead. Her ship sailed into the sunset, passing all known isles. For five years, no letters arrived from her.

Yet sailors in distant ports whisper of a young woman with a northern face, a slender sword, and a gaze cold enough to freeze stone.

She speaks tongues unknown even in Braavos. She is called many names — "Storm of the North," "The Faceless." She seeks lands no Westerosi has set foot on, dreaming of discovering a new Valyria.

The end of one story is always the beginning of another. The only question is: should we continue a tale that was already perfect?