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Peace. For the first time in a while, Gilgamesh felt at peace. His body felt like it was flying backward, some unknown force pushing him in the void of space. Though it was odd. The Golden King didn’t remember where he was or why he was perpetually falling. It didn’t matter right now. Nothing mattered right now.
His bliss, however, was short-lived. As ‘time’ passed by in the void, he came to realize that he had, surprisingly, passed away. He brought his hand to the bridge of his nose and let out a pained sigh. That damnable amalgamation of Deadpool and Arthur had managed to claim victory. He scrunched his face at the thought for just a moment before he let it relax. There was no point agonizing about his defeat, for he had hoped he had achieved his true goal: Showing the Multiverse that Gilgamesh is to be respected.
Yet this won’t remain true for long if he were to remain dead. He waved his hand, summoning forth a golden portal. From his Gates of Babylon, Gilgamesh retrieved a small hourglass, made out of redwood, and accented with silver metal. He simply turned the hourglass upside down and crushed it in his hand. The glass tore open Gil’s hand, blood spurting everywhere. Quickly after, however, the glass seemed to revert to its original state, and the King’s blood rescinded back into his body. He could feel the final bullet exit his skull, his hands fix themselves, his burns evaporating off of his skin. His body reverting to its condition before the Abyss, nevertheless, the memories stayed. And then a blinding flash of light blinded him.
The King of Heroes fluttered open his eyes, the rays of the sun pleasantly tickled his skin. A cool breeze brushed past his cheek and tall grass cushioned his head. Gilgamesh pushed himself up, stretching his body. Each and every one of his bones cracked as he let out a yawn. The Golden King turned to look, gathering his surroundings. He let a sly smirk grow across his face. The vast stretches of desert sprinkled with small patches of savannah, reminded Gil of both Mesopotamia and the Endless Dunes. This planet would work well for his needs, a new civilization under his protection. This time, he would be sure to destroy any threat to those under his care. The King of Heroes paused, was the wind making a whirring sound?
BONK
Gilgamesh clutched his head in pain, turning to see a flying drone carrying a large gym bag. He didn’t need to guess from who it was from, the gaudy, purple design gave away the true owner of this machine.
“What do you want, machine?” Gilgamesh seethed, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. Almost as if it understood, the drone dropped the gym back onto the ground with a heavy thunk. With that, the drone flew away into the sky, vanishing into the emptiness of space. “What more does Karl want with me?” the King mumbled to himself as he knelt next to the bag. Eyeing it carefully, Gilgamesh slowly pulled on the zipper, revealing its contents.
Gold coin overflowed from the bag, glinting in the sunlight. ‘Cute,’ Gil thought to himself. ‘Karl thinks himself funny by sending me gold?’ Gilgamesh pushed away some of the coins to reveal a cell phone, two small Gilgamesh figurines (in the box), and an item that even made Gilgamesh raise an eyebrow. He would save that for later.
Picking up the cell phone, he noticed branded at the top was ‘Syntech Interprises™’. Gil rolled his eyes, of course. He flicked his finger, unlocking the device. The top of the screen displayed the time and location with the words ‘Mesa Roja’ next to it. He scanned past it to see that he had received a message, and clicked on the notification. The sender was listed as ‘Syntech Daddy’. Gilgamesh scowled, their antics at this point were more childish than infuriating.
“Hey Gilly,
I hope you had a good time at this year’s Abyss. Kinda sucks you didn’t win. There’s always next year! Let us know if we can make you Abyss experience any better. We love our King of Pals.
Xoxo
Syntech
P.S. Where the fuck do we send your posse? They do nothing but complain!”
Gil let out a grumble and clicked on the call button. The phone rang a few times before a woman picked up the phone. “Syntech Enterprises, please hold,” she hurriedly spoke.
“Hey, wai-,” the Golden King was cutoff by crappy elevator music. He tapped his foot anxiously while he waited. It was at this point he wondered how he got reception. Though before he could find an acceptable answer, the woman picked back up.
“Hi, this is Becky,” she droned on, “how can I help you today?” He could hear her chewing gum and popping it as if she were disinterested in her job.
“Yes, this is King Gilgamesh,” he decreed, “tell your boss that they can send my people to Mesa Roja.”
“Yah, uh-huh,” she replied lackadaisically. “That it, bud?”
Gil bit his tongue, refraining from screaming at her. “No, does Syntech also do construction work?” Gilgamesh trailed off as he looked before the vast expanse of land that stood before him.
"Yah"
His bliss, however, was short-lived. As ‘time’ passed by in the void, he came to realize that he had, surprisingly, passed away. He brought his hand to the bridge of his nose and let out a pained sigh. That damnable amalgamation of Deadpool and Arthur had managed to claim victory. He scrunched his face at the thought for just a moment before he let it relax. There was no point agonizing about his defeat, for he had hoped he had achieved his true goal: Showing the Multiverse that Gilgamesh is to be respected.
Yet this won’t remain true for long if he were to remain dead. He waved his hand, summoning forth a golden portal. From his Gates of Babylon, Gilgamesh retrieved a small hourglass, made out of redwood, and accented with silver metal. He simply turned the hourglass upside down and crushed it in his hand. The glass tore open Gil’s hand, blood spurting everywhere. Quickly after, however, the glass seemed to revert to its original state, and the King’s blood rescinded back into his body. He could feel the final bullet exit his skull, his hands fix themselves, his burns evaporating off of his skin. His body reverting to its condition before the Abyss, nevertheless, the memories stayed. And then a blinding flash of light blinded him.
The King of Heroes fluttered open his eyes, the rays of the sun pleasantly tickled his skin. A cool breeze brushed past his cheek and tall grass cushioned his head. Gilgamesh pushed himself up, stretching his body. Each and every one of his bones cracked as he let out a yawn. The Golden King turned to look, gathering his surroundings. He let a sly smirk grow across his face. The vast stretches of desert sprinkled with small patches of savannah, reminded Gil of both Mesopotamia and the Endless Dunes. This planet would work well for his needs, a new civilization under his protection. This time, he would be sure to destroy any threat to those under his care. The King of Heroes paused, was the wind making a whirring sound?
BONK
Gilgamesh clutched his head in pain, turning to see a flying drone carrying a large gym bag. He didn’t need to guess from who it was from, the gaudy, purple design gave away the true owner of this machine.
“What do you want, machine?” Gilgamesh seethed, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. Almost as if it understood, the drone dropped the gym back onto the ground with a heavy thunk. With that, the drone flew away into the sky, vanishing into the emptiness of space. “What more does Karl want with me?” the King mumbled to himself as he knelt next to the bag. Eyeing it carefully, Gilgamesh slowly pulled on the zipper, revealing its contents.
Gold coin overflowed from the bag, glinting in the sunlight. ‘Cute,’ Gil thought to himself. ‘Karl thinks himself funny by sending me gold?’ Gilgamesh pushed away some of the coins to reveal a cell phone, two small Gilgamesh figurines (in the box), and an item that even made Gilgamesh raise an eyebrow. He would save that for later.
Picking up the cell phone, he noticed branded at the top was ‘Syntech Interprises™’. Gil rolled his eyes, of course. He flicked his finger, unlocking the device. The top of the screen displayed the time and location with the words ‘Mesa Roja’ next to it. He scanned past it to see that he had received a message, and clicked on the notification. The sender was listed as ‘Syntech Daddy’. Gilgamesh scowled, their antics at this point were more childish than infuriating.
“Hey Gilly,
I hope you had a good time at this year’s Abyss. Kinda sucks you didn’t win. There’s always next year! Let us know if we can make you Abyss experience any better. We love our King of Pals.
Xoxo
Syntech
P.S. Where the fuck do we send your posse? They do nothing but complain!”
Gil let out a grumble and clicked on the call button. The phone rang a few times before a woman picked up the phone. “Syntech Enterprises, please hold,” she hurriedly spoke.
“Hey, wai-,” the Golden King was cutoff by crappy elevator music. He tapped his foot anxiously while he waited. It was at this point he wondered how he got reception. Though before he could find an acceptable answer, the woman picked back up.
“Hi, this is Becky,” she droned on, “how can I help you today?” He could hear her chewing gum and popping it as if she were disinterested in her job.
“Yes, this is King Gilgamesh,” he decreed, “tell your boss that they can send my people to Mesa Roja.”
“Yah, uh-huh,” she replied lackadaisically. “That it, bud?”
Gil bit his tongue, refraining from screaming at her. “No, does Syntech also do construction work?” Gilgamesh trailed off as he looked before the vast expanse of land that stood before him.
"Yah"
Gilgamesh used his revival item
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