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Unfortunately, Gilgamesh was all too familiar with the cold nothingness that came with death. With his soul suspended in the eerie void, the Golden King had nothing but time to think. Where Gilgamesh was once the most powerful King, he had learned that he doesn’t have the privilege to underestimate his foes. Though those fools should know their place, Gilgamesh would need to teach them to kneel before their superiors. He would no longer show mercy to those who dare defy his royal decree. Instead, he shall take them through overwhelming force and make them suffer. His hesitation has lead only to his downfall time and time again. He began to shudder in complete anger and hatred.
Or was he shivering from the absolute cold that coated his body. Gilgamesh pressed his hands to the floor to help him get up, but his fingertips sank into a thick sheet of snow. The wet, cold bit his hands until he recoiled in a burning pain. His muscles resisted moving as he lifted his head to gather his surroundings. The blinding white torrent of snow was not the blinding white emptiness of the Nexus that he had grown accustomed to. His subverted expectations left him speechless with a dumbfounded expression. That is until a sudden burst of wind left stinging snow on his face. Wiping the snow off, he gathered himself and attempted to summon a fire to combat the frigid temperatures of this icy plane. Nothing.
He didn’t have time to question it. Something was different. He wasn’t brought back to the Nexus, he could no longer summon items, and he felt as if he no longer had powered he was accustomed to. Was it possible he was no longer in the Omniverse? His hand made a cursory graze across his chest. His heart raced in excitement, the mark of Diablo was no longer seared across his breast. He was no longer bound to a demon. Gilgamesh did not care to question it. Maybe Omni had grown bored of the King of Heroes and released him elsewhere. Though that did not answer the question of where he was. He would have to figure that out at a later time, if he spent too much time introspectively thinking about his place in the Universe he would freeze to death. And now that he was questioning if he was even in the Omniverse, he was unsure if he would be resurrected.
Getting onto his feet, Gilgamesh brushed the coat of snow he had gathered and quickly looked around to see if there was any civilization or at least a place to help warm himself. There seemed to be nothing more than ice for miles. Through the blizzard, Gilgamesh did see a faint trail of smoke in the air. Where there is smoke, there is fire, he thought to himself. He began to drudge his feet in that direction, huddling himself to preserve his warmth.
“Why am I never on a nice, tropical paradise?” he mumbled before he vanished in the icy storm.
Or was he shivering from the absolute cold that coated his body. Gilgamesh pressed his hands to the floor to help him get up, but his fingertips sank into a thick sheet of snow. The wet, cold bit his hands until he recoiled in a burning pain. His muscles resisted moving as he lifted his head to gather his surroundings. The blinding white torrent of snow was not the blinding white emptiness of the Nexus that he had grown accustomed to. His subverted expectations left him speechless with a dumbfounded expression. That is until a sudden burst of wind left stinging snow on his face. Wiping the snow off, he gathered himself and attempted to summon a fire to combat the frigid temperatures of this icy plane. Nothing.
He didn’t have time to question it. Something was different. He wasn’t brought back to the Nexus, he could no longer summon items, and he felt as if he no longer had powered he was accustomed to. Was it possible he was no longer in the Omniverse? His hand made a cursory graze across his chest. His heart raced in excitement, the mark of Diablo was no longer seared across his breast. He was no longer bound to a demon. Gilgamesh did not care to question it. Maybe Omni had grown bored of the King of Heroes and released him elsewhere. Though that did not answer the question of where he was. He would have to figure that out at a later time, if he spent too much time introspectively thinking about his place in the Universe he would freeze to death. And now that he was questioning if he was even in the Omniverse, he was unsure if he would be resurrected.
Getting onto his feet, Gilgamesh brushed the coat of snow he had gathered and quickly looked around to see if there was any civilization or at least a place to help warm himself. There seemed to be nothing more than ice for miles. Through the blizzard, Gilgamesh did see a faint trail of smoke in the air. Where there is smoke, there is fire, he thought to himself. He began to drudge his feet in that direction, huddling himself to preserve his warmth.
“Why am I never on a nice, tropical paradise?” he mumbled before he vanished in the icy storm.