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Chapter 1 — The Great Fire (Public)
🕑 Added 2024-04-10 20:16:40 +0000 UTCA/N: Chapter 13 will be added in a few hours.
Hurling through the wormhole which stretches me so thin I can see my feet near the entrance, I yell with faux bravado.
“Saber is Baeber! She is THE waifu!” The amount of pain I went through to get her Good End; the endless Bad Ends I got; the frankly ridiculous situations I threw Shirou in just to impress her; the literal battle against Demigod! “It’s fucking worth it!!!”
My voice must’ve attracted something, because the wormhole suddenly dims, taking on a dark hue as ink spills into the tunnel—liquefied Darkness which seeks to consume all within. Before I can even react, a tendril shoots out, piercing my chest. Surprisingly, it doesn’t hurt, instead it feels like peace and quiet, but darker… It feels like, ‘Emptiness?’
Then, everything returns to normal, and if not for the prickling sensation in my chest, I’d have thought it a fever dream. Unfortunately, I don’t get to dwell on it for too long as I rapidly reach the end of the wormhole, where a City aflame is on the other side.
From above, I watch as a legion of ghostly creatures wander the streets, yet none seems to notice them, although I suppose being on fire does make it incredibly difficult to notice anything really. ‘Straight to Fuyuki, huh?’ My grin stretches wide as I plummet to the Earth, where a broken and twisted corpse of a child lies buried beneath the rubbles.
The process as my Soul enters my new mortal shell happens with neither violence or much fanfare.
Sure, there differences between my bodies, like the vibrancy of which I see the world—it could be the effect of the flickering flames
Much like what happened to Shirou, the Great Fire had burnt out every hope, dream and memory which formed the consciousness which once inhabited this body, leaving only an empty vessel for me to occupy. ‘Sorry kid.’ Clenching my new, way smaller fists, I send a silent prayer to the child. ‘For what it’s worth, I’m not gonna take your body for granted, kid… That sounded way off than I intended.’
Scrambling to my feet, I grimace at the pain, but yell still. “IT’S ALIVEEEE—!”
I have fallen off a ladder before when I was young; I’ve gotten into fights where a friend of mine even got to test the hardness of his skull against a brick in middle school. The agony as smokes choke and fill my lungs has all of them those previous pains beat by a mile.
Still, nothing can stop the unbridled joy bursting in my chest. As a child, everything was new and exciting, but as one grows, the things which were once mere marvels eventually become the norms, causing people to pursue newer, fresher experiences. This, to me, is a world full of wonders to explore. Sure, it gets a little dark sometimes, but, “Yer a wizard, Leo!” There’s a bright side right next to every dark corner.
Seek, and you shall find, as they put it.
Maybe it’s evil of me; maybe I shouldn’t feel joy at the sight of a City and its inhabitants on fire, but promises of adventure have muted any and all ability to sympathize my brain has.
Perhaps it is also the fact things still feel like a damn fever dream too—so utterly surreal I simply cannot quite wrap my head around it. It’s almost like one of those dreams I’d have in my Skyrim phase; way back when I would stay awake until 3AM and scroll down Nexus to find the perfect Mods for my 100th Playthrough. “I’m alive!” Even the droplets which collide with my face feels sweeter somehow.
In but a few short moments, I’m more alive than I have ever been in both my lives. “I wonder if Shirou’s near…” The thoughts rouse something fierce in my chest, a bubble of enthusiasm and happiness as I limp down the street, carefully avoiding the charred remains still stuck in their previous poses, never to move again.
Stumbling forwards, I feel a crunch under my torn shoes, lifting it to find a burnt piece of ‘furniture’, but by the two pearly rows of teeth lining the charred piece’s pointier edge which looks suspiciously like a person’s chin… ‘Ah,’ The thought goes pop in my mind, ‘Is this a body?’
That’s when it truly strikes me where I’m standing…
This location was formerly occupied by a residential complex housing hundreds of people. When the fire erupted, triggered by the Grail’s spillage, all the inhabitants were trapped inside.
The elevators turned into dead-ends; the fire exits must’ve been blocked as well due to the collapsing ceiling.
I cannot fathom how this body managed to be this well-preserved, but I suspect that whatever miracles ensured Shirou’s survival must have also extended to preserving it.
Personally, I’m not one to desecrate bodies or grave, but there’s no helping it this time…
The ground is quite literally littered with bodies.
Either I walk over their remains, or I join them in death.
“Sorry. Don’t haunt me, I’ll give you guys incense offerings the next time I visit.”
Uttering under my breath, I swiftly take off, fully aware that my hurried movements inflict further harm upon the already damaged remains. However, my approach has always been to confront challenges head-on, without delay—it always hurts a lot less to rip the bandage in one-go, than to slowly peel it, after all.
Sprinting towards the solitary area where the fire’s intensity seems to be slightly subdued, with the aim of meeting up with a certain ‘Hero of Justice’, I hastily retreat, warded off by the seemingly sentient flames. ‘Must be that guy.’
There are few nearly Omnipresent threats in F/SN: Gilgamesh; Zouken and last, though certainly not any less important is the Daemon, the ancient Spirit of Evils whose existence kick-starts the events of the Visual Novel, basically. ‘Angra Mainyu? If you don’t show yourself soon I really may die, [Skill Tree]—’
Right on cue, a peculiar display appears on my screen, distinct from any interface I’ve ever seen. In fact, it’s more like being transported to an entirely different world, where everything aside from three shimmering hexagons ceases to exist. Even my body remains frozen in the backward descent caused by what I can only assume to be Angra Mainyu’s meddling. ‘Time must have stopped…’
It may have come too soon as a conclusion, but I’m quite confident in my assessment.
[System Unlocked: Infinity Tree]
[Achievement Unlocked: Not a fool!]
> Congrats, you little bastard child! You’re smart enough to unlock the System! Consider this a freebie from us gracious Most-Highs! You’ll get a few Skill Points to start off, as per usual—
‘This prick!’
> Bet you’re are cursing me yer head, huh? I planned to give you a sexy, saucy cat girl as an AI, modelled after the Goddess of Thunder herself!
‘Which one?’ I can think of several anime waifus who can claim that Title, ‘Yoruichi?’
> But because of your sacrilegious words, you are now stuck with me instead! And yes, I’ll berate you every single time for your terrible taste in women.
What the Hell does he know about Baeber’s glory anyways? That blond hair; those vibrant green eyes; that armor-skirt that really should have notified the Knights of the Round about her real gender; the sheer gap-moe of a tough swordswoman and King blushing at common acts of intimacy like… Like holding hands! Who can top a solid Kuudere like her?!
> But enough bantering! Do something, goddammit! Here’s a Hint: See those blinking hexagons? Pick one.
‘I’m frozen in time… My mouth doesn’t even work!’
> With your mind, dumbass!
Narrowing my eyes, I try to focus on one of the hexagons—Skills, I’m guessing.
One depicts a marbled body posing in the ‘Kneeling Atlas’ pose;
[What’s Magic or Steel to the hands that wield it?!]
> Open up the Body Perk Branch
> Cost: 0
One a fancy book spilling mystical energy;
[Trust no man, woman or beast! Only in Magic will you trust!]
> Open up the Magic Perk Branch
> Cost: 0
The last thousands of tentacles reaching from a rift in Space;
[Do you hear it? The Void calls to you…]
> Open up the Void’s Call Perk Branch
> Cost: 0
Chuckling, I muse to myself.
‘Really should’ve laid off the Plague, Religion and Rebel Inc.’
With but a thought, I buy all three Upgrades.
The description is kind of simplistic, but since they cost nothing, why not? Instantly, all three hexagons shine, followed by a hellish haze that settles upon the space like a blanket. ‘What the Hell?’
> What you’re experiencing is the [Heat Meter]! Every time you buy a new Perk or Upgrade, your meter increases ever-so slightly! The color starts with white, orange, red, brown all the way to black. ‘What happens when it reaches black?’ I hear you ask—
‘I didn’t.’
> You’ll be expelled by the Will of the Universe. Since the System Generator has small amount traces of us, it’ll be taken as an act of war to spread our influence so freely in another’s Creation, and we don’t want that now, do we?
So the Omniverse is divided into different parts, controlled by different Gods; Wills, and too much interventions may lead to war? Not at all surprising, though it is still good to know.
> The Cooldown will take a year, three months for each corresponding color!
The haze suddenly lifts, the stars and drifting celestial clouds turning white again.
> In case you’re wondering, that was a demonstration.
In the middle of the three Branches, an orb quickly takes shape, showing the number, ‘30?’
> Here’s the freebie we promised.
> Accept (If you pick this, you’re agreeing Saber’s mid.)
> Reject (Must be stupidly overconfident to pick this. But you do you, I guess!)
‘This fucking—’
Unfortunately, I’m neither confident nor stupid.
The latter is debatable…
‘Accept!’ Still, it takes everything out of me—takes me gritting my teeth to accept the newbie pack. ‘Saber will understand, right?’
> Hah! Saber’s mid, you smooth-brained hairless monkey! UmU is better! Anyways, you’ll receive more AP every year. Yes, the timer is precise by the milliseconds, and the amount of AP you receive will be calculated through this equation: Total number of Perks x Number of Perk Branches you have unlocked—
‘So it’s possible to unlock more than these 3 Branches?’
Immediately, I shelve the information away.
> And since I know you’re going to ask, the three useless Perks you bought earlier also count. Aren’t we the best Gods ever? Are we not gracious? Spread the words of your Lord and Savior—
Without a moment’s hesitation, I scroll down the Tutorial Interface.
> Let me see here– Is there any? No, nope. Well, that’s the end of the Tutorial. Have fun! Don’t fuck a God’s wife, or do! I would love it if you did, but no pressure! Just remember to take pictures so I can post it on FaceTablet— *Muffled Screams!
‘I’m starting to think he’s the reason my predecessors went astray…’
Three more hexagons appear as the Tutorial ends,
[Strongest of the Weak]
> Magic? Steel? No! The answer is FLESH! Only with a tempered flesh can one command oneself with grace and beauty, and only from there can one truly break free of all physical constraints!
Having breached the natural limits of the FLESH, but not quite crossing into true supernatural territory, you are now the ‘Strongest of the Weak’! Get out there and show the world how mighty your biceps are!
> Effects:
>> All physical Stats increased to the unofficial and hypothetical F-Rank
>> Debuffs: [You’re not pudgy, you’re obese!] — Locked!
Cost: 3
Of course, I waste no time purchasing [Weakest of the Strong], which is not only dirt-cheap, but also ridiculously powerful for a starter Perk, given the sheer difficulty in gaining powers in Nasuverse without some impressive backgrounds as a descendent of Heroes or powerful Magi House.
The moment I purchase it, I have to grit my teeth as my muscles go through decade upon decade of workout benefits in an instant. The pain is so great that I even forget how to breath temporarily.
‘Oh, fuck… That was fucking awful.’
Then, two more hexagons appear, connected directly to [Weakest of the Strong]:
[Strongest of the Weak (1)], and [They know not the resilience of the FLESH!!!].
They are of different colors, though.
The Upgrade is grey, and the new Perk is pure white, which grants will grant me 5% Resistance to all physical damages. ‘Can I grow impervious to physical attacks?’ Staring at the undistributed AP, I’m almost tempted to dump it all into the new Perk, sadly the cost stops me. ‘6? So every Perk and Upgrade will double in price?’
To test my theory, I purchase the Upgrade, increasing my physical Stats to F+, and hum as the cost doubles once again.
‘Oh, well… Beggars can’t be choosers.’
As tempted as I am to explore the Branch, I have the future to worry about. Physical prowess is important, that is undeniable, but this is Nasuverse, and to be without Magecraft is like crippling yourself.
[A touch of Magic!]
> What’s greater? Fists to pummel another person, or Magic to burn them alive with your mind from miles away? Who knows? If they scream loud enough we may even piss on them!
> Effects:
>> Granted 25 Magic Circuits of extraordinarily low quality at the theorized but mostly disregarded F-Rank
>> Debuffs: [Just another brute!] — Locked!
Fortunately, the revised cost hasn’t impacted the remaining Branches.
Having expended an additional 9 AP to acquire both [A touch of Magic] and [Efficiency is KEY!], the latter boosting my Spell Efficiency by 5%, I find myself left with a measly 12 Points to allocate.
Carefully, I weigh my options.
I can go all-in in either [Flesh] or [Magic].
‘Alternatively…’ My gaze shifts to [Void’s Call].
[Veiled]
> Touched by the Void, you value your secrecy.
It says, simple and to the point, unlike the irritating Tutorial Obsession prepared for me. ‘Thankfully.’
I can already feel my blood pressure decreasing.
> Effects:
>> Veiled from all Supernatural surveillances and Divination.
>> Mind protected from non-consensual outside intrusions.
>> *WARNING*: Mental alterations not blocked.
This one Perk costs 12 AP…
Now I’m not saying it isn’t worth the expense, I have invested in worse, but watching as my Point plummets to 0 makes my heart bleed red. I dare not check out the Upgrade when I see how much it costs. ‘I’m sorry, 24?! This is just daylight robbery!’ The price does make sense. From what I have gathered, I can unlock more Branches as I progress.
From a designer’s perspective, it does force the Player to go out of their comfort zone and dabble in different things, but if every Branch asides from the fundamental two—[Flesh] and [Magic] are just as expensive, I fear I will truly stagnate. I can’t imagine the Branches will be easy to unlock either…
The worry settles in my guts, ‘What do I have to fear?’ Then instantly gets beaten into the corner by a bravado I admit I do not feel, but it is as those Internet gurus say: Fake it ‘till you make it. ‘Alright… Time to face the music.’ One moment, I’m frozen—unable to twitch a muscle or even communicate verbally—the next I am stumbling into several charred remains which shatter and dust beneath my feet as the licks of fire near my flesh, the heat intensifying as if to sear marks into my skin.
Yet, it misses by a mile, blind to my presence, somehow.
‘Look at that, [Veil] is useful already!’
Although so I don’t get the ‘Harvey Dent treatment’, I hold my breath, creeping along the edge where the cursed fire rages still, its dance mesmerizing in ways only a cataclysm of epic proportions can match, like, say an asteroid hitting Earth.
The screech; cry; shrill and howl… They overwhelm my brain in crashing waves as I accustom myself to my newly-enhanced senses and massively-improved physical capability.
What’s more concerning is the bleeding would in Reality itself—in Gaia’s Reality Marble I can just barely feel with my weak Magic sensitivity as the resentment of the now corpses rewrites and adds to the fabric.
This space will be unusable—marred for the decades to come, even after the Great Fire is quenched, of that I have no doubt.
‘It’s none of my business anyways.’
In the event that the Church deems it necessary, they possess the authority to dispatch the Executioners to perform an exorcism. But, considering the financial ramifications it’d entail, I highly doubt they will take such action. As for myself, well… Why should I be concerned about an Ancient Evil wreaking havoc and immolating unsuspecting innocent people?
From where I stand, he’s simply enjoying existence—same as we all are. ‘You can’t blame a Daemon for being a sadist, right? It’s in the classification.’ I have better things to do with my time, like find the ginger homie who’s probably still lost in this mess and figure out a way to ‘finesse’ my way to Lordship, where I shall proceed to ‘rob’ the common people of their hard-earned cash…
Just imagine, puffing white lines on my ornate throne, while my empty-headed trophy wife does her admittedly impressive sour-faced Marilyn Monroe impression in the background.
‘Ah, that’s the dream!’
Eventually, after meandering in every direction—hoping to bump into the ginger-haired Reality Marble, I finally find the Hero of Justice! “Oi, Shirou!” And he looks like he could use a Snickers or two, “You doing good?”
Yet, his countenance remains unchanged, sporting a vacant expression of someone whose entire reality has just been abruptly upended. ‘Scratch that... Fetch the lad three Snickers bars. That ought to fix him up nicely, I reckon.’ Upon seeing another living being, his eyes flicker with excitement.
His mouth opens wide, prepared to utter something.
Alas, the billowing smoke seems to have taken its toll on his lungs, rendering only feeble, incomprehensible wheezes audible.
‘Hmmm… His hair is lengthier than the anime.’ A fleeting observation crosses my mind as I wave awkwardly at the Harem Protagonist with a very unhealthy obsession to martyrdom and heroism. “Nice weather, aye?”
Shirou gazes at the rain which seems desperate to extinguish the raging wildfire. Then, he looks at me as if to ask, ‘Are you serious?’
“Today is an extraordinary day to make new acquaintances! Come on, buddy, let’s leave this place!”
Gripping his jacket by the hood, I pull him along, determined to locate the Magus Killer who must be screaming himself hoarse at this very moment. It’s not an easy feat, trying to pin down his screams in this environment, made even more difficult due to the sensory overload I’m enduring.
I had intentionally tuned out all the new sounds and sights, muting them to prevent my brain from being overwhelmed, but this requires me yo immerse myself in the chaotic symphony of destruction.
Thankfully, in about an hour, or maybe even less, we spot Kiritsugu Emiya digging through a heap of rubble, tears rolling down his face in clear streaks. “Hey!” I call out, waving Shirou’s hand and mine. “Over here!”
Startled by the sound of my voice, the Magus Killer abruptly straightens up, tears still streaming down his face as he tightly clings to the crumbling ashes of what I assume was a human as well… Once upon a time. Must be depressing, to find naught but ashes instead of people; and to know that you’re responsible for their untimely and gruesome demise.
People will say, ‘The ends justify the means’, but some means are too much, even for coldhearted and hardened killers, it seems.
As he nears, a building next to us falls over, its foundation having been eaten away by the Grail’s muddy contents.
Taking a closer look at the scene before me, I can’t help but be awestruck by its grandeur.
I now understand why the kids in movies so often freeze in place, transfixed on the crumbling building aiming straight for them. However, ‘Is gravity slow, or am I just fast?’ It’s the latter, as it turns out. Putting Shirou on my shoulder like a bag of potatoes so his head doesn’t get whiplash from the acceleration, I jump in front of the Magus Killer, who doesn’t even have the courtesy of acting surprised.
“—Kay…” He weeps, loudly and openly as he pulls what he believes to be two children. “You two are okay, you’re okay! Thank Gods!”
He constantly repeats,
With how hurried he speaks, I fear the Magus Killer may just choke on his own words.
“It’s alright, it’s alright!”
I pat his back reassuringly, while Shirou—the block of wood that he is—simply stands there.
I don’t like the Magus Killer, never have…
Although I hope to never be faced with such a conundrum, if I were ever forced to choose between my own people and an unknown, nameless mass, I’d without a doubt choose my people, EVERY. SINGLE. TIME. Perhaps some may criticize my choice as selfish, but I would rather be true to my feelings and honest about where my loyalties lie.
The Magus Killer will kill and maim and commit terrorism if it fits his goals…
One for ten,
Ten for a hundred,
A hundred for a thousand…
Ultimately, he made the decision to forsake his happiness and loving family in pursuit of a dream that would never come true, for Mankind cannot exist without wars or conflicts—our world cannot lack a ‘Great Reset’, the same way we can’t be without the ‘Great Equalizer’: Fire.
Our ideologies are fundamentally at odds,
But person kneeling before us is not the Magus Killer, not anymore.
This frail and broken man Kiritsugu Emiya, who, in his pursuit of grand and lofty ambitions, has descended to the lowest depths of all the Hells…
Silently, he pulls us towards the paramedics, but I slip out of his grasp and step back. "Come," Kiritsugu gestures, but I merely glance at him and shake my head. "Can’t. I still have unfinished business here."
Furrowing his brows ever so slightly, Kiritsugu beckons again. "This is no time for jokes."
"I'm not joking." When the penetrating tendrils of Nothingness pierce my being, it unlocks another Branch on the Infinity Tree—the [Void’s Call].
Perhaps if I remain in the midst of the Great Fire long enough, I can unlock yet another Branch.
Even if that doesn't come to pass, it's my opportunity to encounter the King of Heroes and increase my favor with him.
When he inevitably makes his decision to 'natural selection’ us all, I can leverage our previous relationship for survival. Who knows? I might even gain something for my troubles.
While I wouldn't mind obtaining a sword or a spear, I'll accept whatever I can get, as long as it doesn't come from the ‘Gate of Babylon’ at Mach 5, or involve being thrown in the crusty basement of the residential doomsday cultist.
One would think the latter is preferable, but being blown to tiny chunks of flesh is a fate I’d argue is just objectively better than whatever Kotomine Kirei does to the kids his church will accept after the ‘Great Fire’ runs out of fuel, or people in this case. Gazes meeting briefly, the Magus Killer advances towards me, lashing out so fast it takes me a moment adapt to his new speed as he aims for the scruff of my nape.
Still, I’m quite a bit faster, and stronger too, even if my martial arts leave a lot to be desired.
Without [Reinforcement], this isn’t a fight he’s going to win.
“Just get him to the paramedics! His name is Shirou!”
Angrily, Kiritsugu yells, “It’s not safe there!” Looking like his heart just jumps to his throat.
To be fair, it probably did.
“Don’t worry!”
Effortlessly, I lift a fallen street lamp to showcase my ‘unnaturalness’. “I’m strong, I’ll be fine. Trust!”
Then, into the blaze I go, disregarding Kiritsugu’s panicked cries completely. Everywhere I go; every turn I take turns out the same, just dancing fire stretched into the horizon. ‘Where the Hell is this fucking guy?’ You’d think a naked blonde with red markings all over his torso would be easy to find, but Gilgamesh is nowhere to be found.
Just as I strain to lift a heap of debris, desperately hoping to uncover the resurrected Heroic Spirit, I detect faint coughs and wheezes in the distance. “A child?” It sounds like one. At first, I dismiss it as my mind playing tricks on me, but the sounds grow increasingly louder, impossible to ignore. “Is Angra acting up again?”
A sudden realization strikes me, a thought I have foolishly disregarded. “There were other orphans in Fuyuki after the Great Fire, weren’t there?”
These orphans were later taken in by the crazy priest to serve as sustenance for the King of Heroes. “Shirou isn’t the sole survivor; there were others. Damn…”
Looks like my encounter with history’s biggest Chad will have to be postponed for now.
Focusing on my hearing, I immediately go to locate the trapped child, or so I believe, but it’s instead an adult woman in her thirties, wearing a torn and dusty dress.
If it weren’t for her finger sticking out from under the debris, I would have arrived too late.
Her arm suffered severe burns, but at least she’s alive, and where there’s Life? There is hope. "Are you doing alright?"
She moans in what I can only describe as absolute agony.
"Yeah, stupid question…" I mumble to her.
Maybe I should’ve brought someone with me, then again I probably would have landed myself in troubles for breaking Nasuverse’s version of the Magical Statute of Secrecy.
With the unconscious woman now on my shoulder, I continue to search and soon come across another victim, this time a man. Safely placing them where the paramedics can easily reach, I begin to feel perplexed by the number of people I have found. "What was the official death toll after the Fourth War, again?"
Despite the initial devastations, many must have survived, but buried and wounded, they can’t call for help until their oxygen reserves dwindled or they tragically succumbed to their injuries.
It is a fate that gives rise to no envy within me.
Imagine having whole buildings collapse on you out of nowhere;
Imagine being trapped, your lungs pulsating in desperate hope for precious air the very fire which destroyed your homes is burning away at. If it were me, I’d have preferred a quicker death. Getting crushed to paste by steel beam, while gruesome, is honestly preferable to that. For hours, I gather the survivors, stacking them in a neat pile like I am playing Hitman as an overly-cautious kid.
“That’s the forty-sixth person…”
In total, I’ve found only nine kids, which is abysmally low compared to the number of adults. Shouldn’t have been surprising, since children are the most vulnerable with a low bone density, yet it somehow is. The fire has waned by now, yet the eerie silence and the distant echoes of sirens make it all the harder to concentrate. Finally, I pick up on someone, ‘Weak breath, and even weaker heartbeats…’
It doesn't require much effort on my part to locate the child, a small arm protruding from beneath the only partially collapsed building.
It is a passing thought, yet it strikes me the company responsible for constructing this structure might’ve saved themselves a fortune on future advertising… Carrying the kid like a not-so-fashionable bag, I hurriedly flee the building that’s rumbling as if it can hear my thoughts. Damn Murphy and his stupid Law. The moment I set foot outside, I’m confronted with a frankly stunning blonde—not Hollywood blondes, but pure gold cascading down her back.
But the most eye-catching features must be the ‘doors to her Soul’…
Not her tits, no.
It’s the pair of rubies that shine with amusement, curiosity and just tinniest smidgens of malevolence;
Standing there, draped in a red curtain that I know hides perfection, the ‘woman’ grins. “You are one interesting mongrel… I thought your kind had gone extinct? What is your name?”
Running my tongue over my teeth, I search for a proper response when the grounds beneath my feet suddenly cave in—‘A sinkhole, now of all time?!’
Maneuvering the kid under me so he’s not crushed by falling debris, I bite my tongue as the sharp edges of rocks and pebbles dig into my back. But my efforts are in vain, for the kid still gets hit—the rock knocking out what little life there still was earlier. Staring at his lifeless eyes, I sigh, trying to dig my way upwards. To say I feel nothing for the kid would be lying.
I am also incredibly annoyed by the fact I fail, but… “It is what it is.”
Sometimes, there’s just nothing you can do.
Crawling out of the sinkhole, I fall over on my back, coughing up dusts as I stare at the dark sky—darkened by smoke.
Then, ‘she’ enters my vision.
“Hasn’t anyone taught you it’s impolite to run mid-conversation?”
“… Isn’t Gilgamesh supposed to be a dude?”
Her lips widen.
“At last, someone who remembers who their true Queen is! Be proud, you have been upgraded from a ‘slightly more interesting mongrel’, to a really interesting one.”
“Thanks. It means a lot,” I flash her a thumb-up, then adds as an afterthought. “Your Majesty.”
An ominous wind suddenly blows past us, lifting the curtain she’s using to cover her modesty.
‘Apparently, Gilgamesh doesn’t believe in shaving…’
As egotistical as he, or I suppose it’s ‘she’ is, it’s not unexpected.
Even the ‘lower-curtain’ kinda glimmers, somehow.
“Like what you see, mongrel?”
Weakly, she nudges my head with her toes.
A compliment will be too… Normal.
A poem to describe her beauty will be cringe-inducing,
Hence I settle for— “I don’t know,”
Purposefully tilting my head, I muse. “Might need a few more seconds just to be sure.”
Not the smartest response, but anyone less than interesting for the ‘King’ of Heroes is basically a non-person. As expected, the ‘King’ bursts into laughter, then grabs me by the waist.
“I’ve decided,"
I raise my brows questioningly.
"You’re coming with me.”
