Lets try something new.

Fuck it! No point in goint back for it now. Hadvar is already way ahead of you. And to be honest, you want to see how real this world actually is. In the game, Hadvar mentions trying to talk to the stromcloaks, but a fight always breaks out the moment either of you event the room. Maybe, if this is all in fact real, then the diplomatic option might work.

The issue is that two heavily armed people just casually walk into the same room as two other equally armed and very frightened people. People whom not too long ago were moments away from being executed. Soon, iron bars and a small chain pulley was all that stood in the way of events playing out normally.

"We need to get moving! That dragon is tearing up the whole keep!"

You hear the male stormcloak, just as you managed stop Hadvar from pulling on the chain. You hold a finger up to your lips to tell him to be quite. There is confusion on his face but he gives a quick nod and stands back.

"Just give me a minute... I'm out of breath..."

You motion to Hadvar to stand back, as this time it's you that pulls the chain. You walk out with your hands raise. "I'm unarmed! I'm a prisoner just like you."

"Who the hell is this bitch?" Said the woman, making you briefly wish you had just let Hadvar kill them.

"She's the Breton that was about to be killed before that damn dragon appeared. Was that your doing? You and your bloody High Rock magics!" The man now rasing his greatsword, his panicked eyes burning a hole right through you.

"Conjuration is what my people are know for, but I'm pretty sure I can't summon a dragon." You've read enough comics to know the best way to survive an Isekai is act like you belong. Explaining to couple of soldiers that you're actually from another world were this is all just a video game, seems like a really bad idea. But hey, at least they aren't attacking...yet.

"She's right. No breton, no matter how powerful, can just pull a dragon out of thin air."

Jesus Akavir Christ! Why do people in Tamriel talk like they have all the time in the world?

"Wait, who's that with you?"

Shit! They spotted Hadvar.

"An imperial!"

"For Ulfric and Skyrim!"

It happened so fast. Your body reacts on instinct. First the heat pouring from your hands, then your vision turns white. Next comes Hadvars hand on your shoulder, snapping you back to reality.

"It's over. Are you alright?"

Your eyes start to come into focus, but its the smell that hits you first, followed by the burning of the bile rising up your throat as you now see the charred remains of the two Stormcloaks.

Flame. One of the starting spells every new character has access to. You used to use it all the time in the early game. You remember laughing at the silly ragdoll poses the npc's would make as they suddenly stop moving and drop to the floor.

You're not laughing now.

"I'm guessing that was your first time killing someone? I'm sorry... We Nords pride ourselves as warriors, but killing is never easy."

It takes Hadvar's strong grip and the ground shaking once more to pull you back to your feet and keep going.

You tried to stop it from happening. You tried to save them, and for a moment, it seemed to be working. So is that it? Are you doomed to live out the games events? Are you truly unable to change anything?

Everything from that point on proceeds as it has over a thousand playthroughs. Hadvar kills the next two Stormcloaks in the storeroom and you pick up a travel pouch and take some potions to put in it. You follow wordlessly as you both arrive at the torture room. Another two people killed.

Your starting to feel a little numb to it now. Not sure if that's a good thing or not. Maybe you are still in shock?

"Hey Breton, see if you can get this cage open with some picks. We might need what's inside."

Oh. This bit. Yeah, might as well. You don't remember being good at lock picking in your old life but you seem to breeze throught it no bother here. The sight of the dead mage is about as much as you can take. This isn't a game anymore. Any doubt in your mind over this being real is long gone. You pick up the spell tome and place it in you new pack, then pause for minute. What would have taken a few seconds and already been forgotten about was now eating away at you. Pragmatism eventually wins out and you being striping the body of the mages robes. You don't take the coin. Something about that feels like a step too far that you can't explain. It just feels wrong in the moment.

You change then and there, no long caring about modesty. Even as the torturer makes some lewd and inappropriate comments that you just aren't paying attention to. You just don't care. If it didn't risk having Hadvar and the old mans assistant turning on you, you might have killed him. He certainly deserved it more than those two. No. Don't think about them. It will only make it worse. And you still need to make it out of Helgen.

The rest goes by in blur.

You light the oil to scatter the Stormcloaks blocking the cave entrance. They get cut down by the imperials with ease. You continue to follow Hadvar through the rocky sewer tunnels, killing giant spiders and sneaking past a bear.

Before you know it, you feel fresh air on your face, watching Alduin fly off into the distance.