Rebirth

[Gilgamesh]

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.

 

[Gilgamesh]

The faint trail of smoke became thicker as Gilgamesh pressed on. The thought of warmth drove him towards the smoke, his muscles aching and shivering due to the freezing cold. His golden boots sank into the many inches of snow. The King muttered to himself that he couldn’t wait to get off this frozen hellscape.


The source of the persistent trail of smoke became apparent. A large roaring flame emanated from the site of a crashed vehicle. The sleek, futuristic car was half buried in the now-melting snow, with no apparent cause for the crash. Shards of glass littered the floor, accompanied by the blood-stained snow. Gilgamesh walked toward the crash, and although the sight was unnerving the primal instinct for warmth overcame his discomfort. As he walked closer, the icy snow became less thick and more wet, melted by the crackling flames. The warm embrace of the crash made Gilgamesh uncomfortable, as a wave of euphoria was antagonistic of the apparent tragedy. Bracing himself for the site of charred corpses inside the wreck and battered and bruised survivors around the vehicle, his expectations were subverted when there was nothing. No bodies. No survivors. Not even footsteps leading away from the crash. What could have possibly happened here?


As his limbs were defrosting and the blood in his veins stopped feeling like a viscous slushy, Gilgamesh heard the sounds of ripping flesh. From the snow surrounding him, strange, humanoid abominations emerged. The skin from their stomach tearing apart as smaller talon-like appendages burst through. Each of them emitted a horrible screech, drowning his ears in a cacophony of blood-curdling screams. The palms of the monsters had large spikes. These necromorphs gave Gilgamesh no time to react as several of them lurched forward to infect him.


Gilgamesh scowled at the monsters, what could have possibly corrupted these people. Several golden portals shimmered to life behind the Golden King, quickly firing a burst of weaponry, severing several of their limbs and some lodging themselves within the disgusting monsters. Even as his weapons easily, tore apart these abominations’ legs they crawled forward with deadly purpose. Before Gilgamesh could send another barrage of swords and axes, he heard a terrifying shriek from behind him. Atop of the flaming car, stood one of the many necromorphs. This monster had no instinct for self-preservation as the flames from the car gorged itself on the monsters flesh. On impulse, Gilgamesh opened a golden portal, retrieving one of the many swords from his vault. Just in time, as the necromorph pounded on the King. The bone-like talons clanged against his sword. One of the monsters spiked pierced into Gilgamesh’s side.


“You disgusting wretch!” the King exclaimed. With all of his strength, he pushed the abomination off of his chest and crawled back into one of the legless monsters. As it attempted to bite into his shoulder, Gilgamesh drove his sword backwards into the creatures skull. He clutched the wound on his side as he stood up from off the ground, the collective of necromorphs collecting themselves from the King’s attack.


Wiping the black, sludgy blood onto the corpse of the monster he sneered at the mob, “Whatever disease afflicts you, I will take great pleasure in purging.”


The horde replied with a shrill howl, before charging. Golden portals flickered into life around them, shooting a quick burst of weaponry tearing apart each and every one of them limb from form limb. At the end of the barrage, the golden portals flickered out of existence. A hodgepodge of mutated limbs and decapitated skulls now decorated the snow floor. One last necromorph was relentless, with only one remaining limb left it crawled towards Gilgamesh with undying purpose. As it reached Gilgamesh’s leg, it flailed, attempting to murder the King with the strength it had left. He put his boot on the monsters head, to keep it at bay.


Gilgamesh spoke quietly, with a hint of tenderness in his voice, “Nothing angers me more than those who defile my possessions. Be at peace now.” With a quick and efficient stab to the head, he ended the creature’s life.


Exhausted, Gilgamesh walked over and sat near the roaring campfire of the car. A place where his people can be corrupted into horrible monstrosities? This realm was even worse than he thought.

 

[Gilgamesh]

The harsh winds from the surface of Inverxe were luckily driven off by the flickering fire of the wreck. However, all good things must come to an end. Gilgamesh could tell that the roaring fire was quickly dying and would soon be overcome by the storm. Gathering his strength, the King stood, wincing as he clutched his side in pain. The stab wound from the Necromorph was still bleeding. He would need to find civilization quickly so he could take time to recover. He closed his eyes, taking the time to enjoy the comforting warmth of the wreck one last time. With that, he set off into the never-ending storm of this wretched planet.

The frost had sept through the metallic sheen of his boots, nipping on his toes and feet. A trail of bloody snow behind him. After what felt like miles, Gilgamesh’s legs had begun to give up on him. With a strong gust of wind, his knees buckled, forcing him face first into the snow. His body was so incredibly tired. It would be so easy to just give into the cold. To close his eyes. He had suffered much.

But that was why he must press on. Gilgamesh with a second wind, rose up from the snow. His golden armor had sprinkles of white fixated all over his armor. Taking no time to brush himself off, he continued forward. After what felt like hours, Gilgamesh saw a faded orange light in the distance. The small, bright circle was bouncing back and forth as it was getting closer. Through the thick slurry of snow and wind, Gilgamesh saw that the bouncing light was a lamp and it was being carried by someone. More bodies came into the King’s field of vision and Gilgamesh felt as if he had caught a break. Gilgamesh erected himself like a monarch once more, ready to claim the followers that were rightfully his. However, the group had a collective terrified look on their faces. Just behind them were additional monstrosities on various shapes and sizes. One of the necromorphs pounced on one of the fleeing civilians, attaching its various appendages into the host’s body and sent one of its tentacles through the person’s head. The creature released itself from the person’s body, but before the corpse could fall to the ground, the flesh tore at itself. The person’s jaw ripped itself open to reveal fleshy, tendril like appendages and horrifying, jagged teeth.

“Oh, so it is a lowly parasite that is corrupting my people,” Gilgamesh scowled.

The group of people ran past him, cowering in fear. One screamed as they passed by Gilgamesh, “What are you doing?! Run or they’ll kill you!”

“Pfft.” Gilgamesh scoffed. At this distance, he could easily get rid of these eye sores. Gilgamesh raised his wrist, opening golden portals behind him. With a motion of his hand, spears and swords rushed out to decimate the group of necromorphs. As the weapons made their impact, both snow and black sludge alike sprayed into the air. An audible ‘woah’ was heard from behind him, as he noticed the mob had stopped fleeing in terror. A small smirk grew on his face as he could hear the people behind him whispering in awe of Gilgamesh’s power. “Notice,” he exclaimed with a sense of self-pride, “how your King can quickly protect you from these atrocities.”

As the snow settled from the impact, Gilgamesh expected to see nothing but corpses. Much to his dismay, however, more had taken the place of their fallen comrades. The King frowned, this would be more cumbersome than he had thought. Before the crowd behind him could flee, Gilgamesh turned and shouted, “My loyal subjects, the enemy before you is an abomination that we must quickly cull! Will you assist me in cleansing this world of this horror?”

The rousing speech had gotten some of them to nod in a mixture of confusion and terror. “Fuck that!” one person screamed as he began to flee. A sword flew from the sky and pierced the man through the leg, disabling him from running. He squealed in pain, “My leg!” as he looked at the gaping wound and the ornate sword that now decorated it.

“Any other deserters?” Gilgamesh raised an eyebrow. Silence among the crowd, with internal struggling between their fear of the necromorphs and the fear of the crazed lunatic that stood before them. Believing that the raving madman was their better shot at life they reluctantly nodded as a group.

“Excellent!” Gilgamesh cried as various portals flickered to life around his new militia. From inside, various axes, swords, and shields emerged from their home. Hesitantly, each of the new soldiers retrieved their golden weapons from Gilgamesh’s vault and readied themselves for the ever closer horde of monsters.

Gilgamesh took a sword out of his own, and prepared himself. Flourishing the sword, the King pointed it at the group of oncoming necromorphs, shooting a variety of weapons at them from the portals behind him. The oncoming blades severed a variety of limbs and impaled many other creatures, this did not cull the majority of creatures. As the creatures came closer, Gilgamesh noticed an unholy behemoth behind the horde. A necromorph made out of several dead and look similar to that of a large fleshy bear.

“You all must eliminate the smaller horrors, I shall rid the planet of this behemoth.” Gilgamesh strode forward, wincing slightly from the wound on his side. As one of the monsters frantically ran at Gilgamesh, he made an effortless motion, cleaving the necromorphs arm from the shoulder. With the sight of Gilgamesh, steadily advancing into the decaying horde, his newfound militia gained a bit of confidence and charged forward themselves. Bracing themselves with their shields, they charged forth and pressed into the line of undead.

“Front line, task yourselves with protecting your brothers! The rest should task themselves on freeing these creatures of their skulls,” Gilgamesh barked. He didn’t bother to look back, but he had hoped that they were competent enough to take enough care of themselves. He instead had to focus himself on the charging brute. As the creature galloped forward, each step seemed to shake the earth. As the creature was almost upon Gilgamesh, several portals opened around the monster. From them, golden chains burst forth and quickly wrapped itself around the torso and appendages of the beast. The necromorph struggled, attempting to break free from the tight grasp of the chains. The metal groaned as the colossus pulled at it. It let out a deep roar, flinging putrid spit at Gilgamesh.

He recoiled in disgust, “I do not particularly wish to get my hands dirty with you.” Portals opened from behind him and slung various weaponry, with only a few able to pierce the beast’s natural armor. “Enough, I command you to stop struggling.” Gilgamesh sent a final spear into the beast’s head, finally piercing the creature’s thick skull. The now lifeless body hung heavily in the chains weighing them to the ground. The chain, almost as if it were a snake, let go of its prey and slowly retracted into the portals from which they came.

Turning around, Gilgamesh could see that his militia had great success, with many necromorph bodies littering the ground with much fewer human casualties. He raised his sword in the air, cheering, followed with the endorphin-filled crowds’ cheer following suit.

 

[Gilgamesh]

Weeks had passed since Gilgamesh had recruited the banished escort. Life on this cold, barren planet was completely alien to him. This was incredibly palpable when he dug his teeth into the raw blubber. Fire was rare around these parts, the constant blizzards didn’t allow for much arboreal life. Thus any semblance of fuel or wood is worth its weight in gold. They had learned that it must be saved for critical moments, rather than just making their meals more appetizing. He hung his head to remember those who he had lost to the cold.


They had found shelter in a cave, giving them a break from the tempest. The wind shrieked and howled against the stone, angry that it couldn’t claim it’s residents. Everyone stayed close together for warmth as they each devoured their recent kill. While the unsavory smacking of lips irritated Gilgamesh, it soon became the new normal for him. Gregory tore a large chunk of flesh from the leg of some alien beast and turned towards Gilgamesh.


“So...uh...you don’t look like you’re from around these parts,” making a gesture at the King’s formal clothing. “What brings you to this hellscape?”


The question threw off Gilgamesh. Small talk was taboo. If the group wasn’t talking about their next meal or the next sanctuary, it was complete silence. Though it wasn’t unfounded. The men’s faces were covered in scars, many of them missing fingers. Their hair was overgrown, facial hair was unkempt and dirt had crawled beneath their nails. Gilgamesh rather had flawless skin and was rather well-put-together, even with weeks on the road. His clean-shaven face and intact appendages did not resonate with the cold world.


“You caught me.” He raised his hands up as if he were being arrested. He gave a light chuckle. “I didn’t have much of a choice. I just woke up here.”


“Yeah, we didn’t have much of a choice either. Half of us are either exiles or were born here” Gregory looked down into the dirt. An uncomfortable silence washed over the group.


Gilgamesh raised his eyebrows, “You know, this was very different from my last Kingdom,”


“Yeah, you’re going on again about this Kingdom business. You just sound delusional to me.”


While it stung at his ego, Gilgamesh continued, “No, no it’s true. Before I ruled on a planet similar to this.” He paused, “Well, sorta similar. Instead of snow, it was instead filled with sand?”


One of the younger men scoffed, “No snow? How on earth was there no snow when it’s this fucking cold?”


“But that was just the thing,” the Golden King enthused. “It wasn’t cold. It was located in what is called a desert.”


The men raised their eyebrows at the remark, some of them never hearing what a desert was.

Gilgamesh continued to rave, “It was a place with extreme heat, like that when you get too close to a fire. People would flock to areas with water, which was the most valuable item one could control. My kingdom…” he trailed off. “It was beautiful.”


“Yeah, well if you are such a great King, why don’t you take us somewhere nice and make a new Kingdom?” one snarked, burying his face into his blubbery meal. A few of his compatriots nudged him harshly for his rude comments.


“Maybe I will.”

 

[Android XVII]

She abhorred the surface.

Try as she may, there was no way she could convince herself that snow was ‘for her.’ At one point, she had traveled with a motley crew of miscreants, and she still remembered the smiling man who had always talked about how much he loved snow. At one point, he had regaled the woman for hours on end over how much he enjoyed the ‘melodic’ crunch of fresh snow beneath his boots and the ‘therapeutic’ howl of the wind during a snowstorm.

Whatever that man had called himself, he had frozen to death a month ago. The only worthwhile possession he had owned was a heavy, fur-lined chest plate that how hugged the woman’s figure thanks to an assortment of scavenged straps and belts.

In front of her, the fire grew low against the embers. Within the next few minutes, the flames would vanish, and she would be left with nothing but the memory of the warmth the small pittance had provided her this night.

Lifting a hand, she brushed clean the visor that concealed her eyes from the harsh airs of Inverxe. At some point, the googles were able to scan the environment and chirp at her with information at nearby objects or changes in air temperature. Those functions had outlived the old owner of the piece of equipment by only a few weeks. Out beyond the lip of the cave, the wind roared as sheets of frozen rain sliced across the barren landscape. On cold nights like these, the woman had seen people beaten to the verge of death by waves of wind leaden with frozen rain.

For this night, she had eluded the true horrors offered by an evening out there on the bare landscape of the planet. If it wasn’t the weather or the monsters, there was always the looming threat that the planet would ‘win’. She had been on Inverxe long enough and traveled with enough individuals to understand that – sooner or later – everyone succumbed. At first, it was a nagging sensation of dread in the back of your mind. After that, you’d start to feel shivers even when you were standing in a dry cave around a warm fire. Then the nightmares usually started, and at that point, the weak usually slipped into a state akin to the walking dead, and the strong often turned on themselves or those nearest to them. She had won a chainsaw from a man who had gone from casually chatting about chess strategies to tearing out the throat of a young woman who had fled some terrible kingdom ‘deep in the planet’s core.’

The woman pulled down her scarf—a handwoven piece made from some old biddity who had once been a matron on a pleasure boat before killing the captain and crashing it on this forsaken rock—and jammed a fistful of lightly seared tissue into her mouth. She wasn’t certain what animal it had come from, but she knew it wasn’t from the walking corpses or the bigger predators that lurked these parts.

Somewhere deeper in the cave system, the woman heard the faint sound of human voices. She paused with her mouth half-open to try and ascertain whether that was genuine noise or simply the planet trying to play its tricks on her. On more than one recent occasion, she had woken up to find that her dreams had implored her to wander from shelter, and she wouldn’t put it past the planet to start plying its madness on her during her waking hours.

“Even so,” she mumbled as she swallowed down the foul meat and reached for her gloves. One of them fit nice and snug over her left hand, while the other was adorned with hooked blades on the wrist. She had taken it from the corpse of a man who claimed he had won the weapon ‘fighting the biggest, baddest Predator I have eva seen, lemme tell ya!’ If the man had told her, the woman had not listened. She had learned to nod her head and put up the façade of active listening until something worthwhile was introduced into the conversation.

Killing the remains of her fire with the heel of her good boot, the woman retrieved her other weapon—a handheld metal tube that occasionally generated a laser sword. She tested the device and found it worked after the third attempt, which seemed roughly in line with how it had been functioning over the last few days. Ever since the fall at the ravine, the gizmo had been faulty, but she wasn’t about to abandon it altogether, as it provided the most sure-fire means to cleave the limbs off the corpse walkers.

“Cut off the limbs…” She whispered. It was a mantra passed down to her by a manic engineer a few hours after she had woken up in the wreckage of her own ship. “Cut off the limbs and stomp the flesh.” Since then, that little mantra had proven to be one of the truest things about Inverxe.

“Cut the limbs. Stomp the flesh….”

Mumbling to herself to steel her own finnicky resolve, the woman wandered deeper into the network of caves in search of the echoed voices.

 

[Gilgamesh]

The cacophony of smacking lips slowly came to an end as each member tossed the bones into the recesses of the cave. Gilgamesh had to stop himself from retching. The slick chunk of fat slithered slowly down his throat; the memory made him shudder. The goopy mass squelched into the other men’s throat. He shuddered. The closest thing he had was raw fish but it was a completely different experience. Though the sounds were cringe-inspiring, the alternative howling of the wind was bone-chilling.


Gilgamesh waved his hand towards the group as he pressed his back against the frosty wall of the cave. “You can all go to sleep,” he sighed. “I’ll take the first watch. I won’t be able to sleep anyways.”


As the rest of his ensemble closed their eyes and fell asleep to the shrieking winds, the King of Heroes rested his head against the cave wall.


At first, the thoughts weren’t intrusive. As hours passed, fleeting thoughts of war and past fights graced Gilgamesh’s mind. The disgusting abominations that they had to cull weeks earlier. His nose crinkled as he remembered their stench. More time pissed in the pitch black. The thoughts turned more menacing. ‘I bet human flesh would be tastier than whatever meat I eat earlier.’ ‘No one would notice one person missing.’ And ‘it would be so easy and painless to die in their sleep. You’re doing them a favor.’ Gilgamesh shook his head to clear his mind. Maybe he was just tired, cranky, and cold. Why else could he be feeling this way? Maybe there was something rancid about his portion of blubber. These rationalizations did not drown out the persuasive chittering of voices.


Over time, the thoughts had grown more bold and had begun to coax Gilgamesh into murder. The thought had just occurred to him that there might be an intruder in his mind. “Get out! Get out get out get out!” he hissed through his teeth, banging his fist against his head. His mad ramblings had unfortunately woken one of his allies, groggy and confused about what Gilgamesh was going on about.


“Is it my turn?” the half-asleep resident mumbled from his corner.


“No. No, I was just lost in thought. Go back to sleep.”


The other man was not eager to wake up from his slumber and he gladly complied. Gilgamesh hummed a classic babylonian tune, coaxing the man to sleep and keeping the invading thoughts at bay.


His pleasant melody was broken by the tip-tap sounds of foot-steps along with a chanting he couldn’t make out. Withdrawing a sword from within its sheath, he approached the noise. As he ventured deeper into the cavern, the echoes of the footsteps surrounded him and the chanting became more clear.


“Cut the limbs. Stomp the flesh.”


The words were spine-chilling. Was this some crazed rabble, looking for its next kill. Gilgamesh flourished his sword before raising it in a defensive stance. Eventually, Gilgamesh arrived at an intersection, with three new paths he could choose from. As the words continued to grow louder, the echoes made it impossible to find which direction its source was. This intersection would be his stand.


Through one of the tunnels, Gilgamesh saw a faint, green glow accompanied with a soft shim emitting from the blade. The light from this weapon fought against the darkness, showing the slender legs of its wielder.


“I command you to stop,” he barked. His words went unheeded; the figure continued to stride ever closer. “If you wish for your head to stay attached to your body, I would recommend heeding my orders.” He pointed his sword towards the person.


Indeed, they stopped, but not before twirling their blade of bright energy around them. The beautiful display ended with a threatening stance towards the King of Heroes. “I don’t take orders,” the woman said flatly.


“Then you and I will not get along.” The woman provoked Gilgamesh by taking another step closer towards him. He chuckled, “Well if you insist on perishing, I shall oblige.”


Gilgamesh charged forward with his sword. As he brought down his blade, she raised her lightsaber. His weapon was cleaved in two as it collided with the saber, each of the pieces glowing red from the heat of her weapon. While Gilgamesh was confused, it didn’t take long to understand that her weapon was far superior than any in his collection. Gilgamesh discarded the ruined blade as she swung wildly at him. He could feel the heat emanating from her weapon as he narrowly dodged her attacks. Eventually, she had forced him to retreat into the wall of the cave. Managing to roll away just as she sliced, he saw the bright red sparks of her blade searing through the cavern with ease.


“Enough,” Gilgamesh growled. He raised out his hand, summoning a handful of shimmering, golden portals. Swords and spears flew out at amazing speeds towards the woman, however, she managed to incinerate the weaponry directed at her. The rest of Gilgamesh’s arsenal collided with the wall, the force of the impact shook the entire grotto. Rocks fell from their loosely held place within the ceiling. Just as Gilgamesh had prepared another barrage of weapons to fire, a distorted screech could be heard from deep within the cave. The woman scowled at Gilgamesh before turning towards the source of the sound.


“Cut off the limbs and stomp the flesh.”

 

[Android XVII]

The man with the red eyes and the decayed golden armor seemed unnerved as the horrible, unhuman noises echoed throughout the cavern. With the exception of the one nearest to him, all of the man’s swirling gold vortexes blinked out of existence. Reaching into the gilded void inside the portal, the bombastic warrior retrieved a heavy sword and scowled as he took a moment to get his grip correct.

For her part, the woman’s visored gaze had never left the direction of the screeches. Her lips moved soundlessly as she repeated her little mantra ad infinitum in her tormented mindscape. She became so transfixed on the words looping in her brain that she didn’t notice the man go rushing passed her nor was her focus shattered when he spun on his heels to glare at her with those haughty-yet-haggard eyes.

“You seem… competent,” he spoke after stepping back toward her and tilting his head. He couldn’t see through the visor, but if he could, all he would see were glassy eyeballs staring through him into the darkness. “The people back there aren’t as adept at survival as you are…”

Had the woman being paying attention, she likely would have picked up how uncomfortable the golden-haired man sounded. She would have noticed how each sentence he spoke emerged from his chapped, cracked lips a little more reluctantly than the last. She could have noted how he almost seemed to be physically ill as the next phrase came out of his mouth. “I could… use your help… if they are in danger.”

When the unkempt woman failed to respond despite a rash of new and very human screams, Gilgamesh struggled—and lost—to maintain his composure. “Are you ignoring me, you street rabble? I am talking to you!” His hand launched out and clasped around the woman’s shoulder.

In that instant, it was as if he had poured flaming oil over her skin.

A shriek of her own emerged from behind the shroud of cloth that hid the lower half of the woman’s face. Her own hands shot up and closed around Gilgamesh’s wrist with a fury that belittled her stature, and before he knew it, his wrist was being twisted and corkscrewed without the slightest concern for his health. Despite the ferocity, there was also something about the motion that made it clear that it was a knee-jerk reaction, so the gilded king wrenched his arm and took a pair of massive steps backward. As he did, the woman’s hands—tensed into the claws of some bestial force—relaxed and fell down to her sides.

“Don’t… don’t fucking touch me,” the woman whispered. “Men don’t get to fucking touch me.”

“Trust me,” Gilgamesh grumbled. “I have no interest in knowing whatever it is that rests beneath your twenty pounds of scavenged debris… those people need help,” once more, he seemed to have to almost vomit out the words. “Help me protect them before it’s too late.”

The woman nodded her head as she lifted the lightsaber. “…lead. I will kill you if you try to take advantage of the situation.”

While he knew the planet played on people’s minds, Gilgamesh felt that there was probably a degree of damage already dealt to this haggard creature before she landed on this forsaken planetoid. “I am King Gilgamesh.”

“I’m not important.”

“You have no name?”

“I probably did, yes.”

The monarch (the woman wondered how someone dressed just slightly nicer than herself could call themselves a king) scowled once again. “Listen, Woman… I don’t have time for this. Come or leave.”

“The story ends the same either way,” the woman whispered, but Gilgamesh was already rushing off into the darkness. “Story ends the same… planet always wins. Planet cheats… Planet always cheats.”

She took a few more moments of silence before running after the king.

Gilgamesh was easy enough to follow, as he was making no effort to mask his heavy footfalls. When the woman came upon him, he was attempting to wrest a small, larva-like creature that had latched itself around the skull of a young man. “Off!” The king growled as he drew a smaller blade and arch his hand to jab it into the flesh of the creature gripping onto the poor person’s skull.

“Wait!” The woman screamed as she turned to see that at least three or four other individuals had succumbed to the face huggers. “Don’t cut the sk—”

She was too late, and the moment the king’s blade punched through the gray flesh of the alien, it’s highly pressurized and highly acidic blood erupted from the wound. Spatters of the liquid splashed across Gilgamesh’s chest in the moments before she tackled him to the ground, and before he could complain, she hacked what remained of his faded chest plate from his body. By the time she threw the piece of steel, it had already warped as if it were made of moist paper.

“The blood burns!” She unintentionally screamed down at the man. “BURNS.”

“Get. Off!” Gilgamesh groaned as he shoved the woman off of his abdomen and scrambled up to his feet. He looked down to see that his bare skin had been scalded pink by the substance, but he was otherwise unscathed. On the other hand, the person he had intended to save was now writing in agony on the ground and the stream of blood pouring down from the parasite ate through their chest and stomach. “What the fuck is this. More of those corpse monsters with all the extra limbs?”

The woman shook her head. “Xenomorphs different. Evolve. Parasites…” Her eyes went wide.

“What now, Woman?” Gilgamesh declared as he looked around the room. “Just these four aliens?” The question was aimed at the survivors of his group, who slowly nodded their heads.

“Face huggers never alone,” the Woman whispered. “Usually accompanied by… by adult.”

“What the fuck are you on about now?” Gilgamesh demanded before noticing that he was bathed in shadows. With a scowl, he turned around and found himself staring into the enormous chest of a vaguely humanoid alien. Lifting his head slowly, the gilded king remained stalwart even at the sight of the abomination’s sleek, elongated cranium. Even with some bruises on his face and his hair having long-since lost its normal sheen, Gilgamesh stood his ground as the monster hiss and opened up its droll-stained teeth to reveal a second mandible that twitched in anticipation of his flesh.

“You think you scare me? I am the King of Kings! I have stood firm against demons and devils far worse than you!”

With his own hissing growl, Gilgamesh slapped the xenomorph across the side of its rubbery face.

“You will bow!”

The woman managed to once more tackle the king out of harm’s way as the eight-foot xenomorph lunged for his throat.

 

[Gilgamesh]

The satisfaction Gilgamesh had when smacking the creature across its face was indescribable. Adrenaline rushed through his veins. He felt once more like a powerful monarch, able to attack whomever he wanted. However, this feeling did not last long. Breaking him out of his trance, the woman tackled Gilgamesh, bringing him onto the cold floor with a loud thud. Old habits kicked in.


“Don’t touch me, mongrel!” he hissed, shoving her face off of his chest. Between his fingers, he saw her shoot him the most disgusted and offended look. Gilgamesh felt blood rush to his face as he experienced a feeling he was not familiar with, shame. Though he could not dwell on this for long, as the drool from the towering beast’s maw began to drip on Gilgamesh. The xenomorph launched its tail towards the King’s exposed chest. Not being able to dodge in time, the tail-whip embedded itself into Gilgamesh’s abdomen. Wincing in pain, he didn’t know how he was going to get out of this mess.


Shink


Gilgamesh turned his head to see his savior, one of his followers. Though frightened by the massive alien, the man had pierced its flesh with a sword. The xenomorph’s acid blood sprinkled the room, spattering onto a few of the men and destroying the sword embedded in its shoulder. The alien shrieked in pain and batted the attacker away. Seizing the opportunity, Gilgamesh rose his arm, decorating the cavern walls with golden portals before shouting, “Run!”


The remaining survivors scrambled to their feet before sprinting deeper into the cave. The adult was preoccupied with burying its second set of teeth into one of the men’s skulls. The unsettling squelch sent chills up the King’s spine. Wobbling onto one knee, Gilgamesh rested against the cavern wall, slowly taking a few steps back.


“You can’t outrun an adult,” the woman scolded.


“I hope that we won’t have to.” Golden chains ruptured forth from the shimmering portals, coiling around the alien’s limbs and torso, immobilizing it. Gilgamesh drew his blade, hoping to end the beast. But as he took a step forward, the chains groaned and creaked as the xenomorph flexed and struggled.


“Yep, time to run,” Gilgamesh blurted. Clutching his wound and with the assistance of the woman, the two ran down the corridor. Trying to follow the group of the survivors proved challenging, the sounds of footsteps echoed from each direction. Eventually, the two came upon an intersection.


“Which way do we go?” Gilgamesh spurted. His question was drowned by the horrific scream of the xenomorph and metal clinking onto the floor.


“Doesn’t matter,” the woman insisted, rushing down a random pathway. Running did little to help the injury, worsening the pulsating, throbbing pain.


Panting, Gilgamesh eventually broke from the woman’s help and rested his back against the wall. “I...I need to rest. Give me a minute.” he was out of breath. He winced as he moved his hand from the wound. Though he couldn’t see much in the dark, he could reasonably assume the sticky liquid on his hand was his blood; from what he could tell, a lot of it.


“We can’t stop now. It’s going to catch us.” She shifted her weight uncomfortably and rapidly scanned the cave. “You are going to get us killed,” she muttered. Her leg bounced with anxiety. Her discomfort was palpable. She glanced between Gilgamesh and the corridor.


The Whispers settled into the King’s mind. ‘She is going to leave you to die. Kill her.’ No, she had taken him this far. Why would she leave him now? ‘She’s using you as bait. You only need to be faster than the person behind you.’ That doesn’t make sense, why would she carry him this far? ‘Kill her!’ the Whispers screamed. ‘The alien will take her instead.’


The woman looked down at Gilgamesh and let out a stressed sigh. Grabbing his arm, she dragged him over to the nearest pile of rocks; a sad excuse of cover but the best the two could hope for. “Why am I helping a piece of work like you?” she mumbled to herself.


The sheik of the alien accompanied with the horrified scream of a survivor broke Gilgamesh out of the trance. Shaking his head, he then extended his hand to the woman. “Give me your weapon,” he demanded.


“What? No!” she whisper-shouted. “I’m already risking my skin to help you.”


“Why don’t bastards listen when I’m just trying to help,” Gilgamesh mumbled under his breath. Reaching for her belt, he nicked her lightsaber and quickly pressed the button, bringing it to life. Before the woman could react, he pointed it at himself and precariously pressed the edge of the blade against the wound. The weapon hissed as it singed his skin. Gilgamesh briefly let out a pained yell. The woman, panicked, raised her hand to cover his mouth and took the weapon from his hands.


“What the fuck are you doing?” she hissed between her teeth.


Removing her hand forcefully from his mouth, he spoke back with a hint of disdain, “Saving people.” He propped himself back up with his sword before swinging it against the cavern walls, occasionally letting out a shout.


“Stop! You’ve lost to Inverxe. You’re trying to kill us,” she raised the light saber towards Gilgamesh.


“Oh? You’d raise a weapon at me? Now?” he scoffed as he continued down the corridor. “It clearly isn’t obvious to a brute like you, but I don’t intend on letting any more of my people die,” he mocked. “By all means, leave. Your services are no longer needed.”


The woman glared at him, her blade still drawn. After a brief stare-down, she withdrew her blade. She stayed silent, but for unexplainable reasons, stayed by his side. Eventually the corridor led outside of the cave, the blistering storm raging outside. Giving a final shout into the cavern, Gilgamesh stepped outside, into the snow, waiting for his opponent.


Within a few minutes, coal-black claws shot out of the cavern as the xenomorph emerged from the cave. Erecting fully to its eight foot form, Gilgamesh turned to the woman.


“I may actually need your services once more.”

 

[Android XVII]

They were outside in the snow.

The woman’s layers of fur and mismatched pieces of padding and armor gave her a slight reprieve from the elements. To her left, her loudmouthed and brash companion did not have the same degree of protection. She knew he had baited the creature into the open to prevent it from ambushing them in the dark, but if they weren’t able to kill the xenomorph quickly enough, Gilgamesh and his motley crew would be lost to the snow storm that raged around them.

While the sky was a deep shade of black, the world around them was a blender of grays and whites. Against that particular backdrop, the xenomorph stood out as stalked toward them—its still bleeding form leaving behind steaming puddles as its acidic ichor burned through the semi-frozen ground.

“You have an idea, do you not?” The woman whispered as she smacked the side of the lightsaber, prompting a flickering beam of light to manifest after a few solid thwacks of her palm.

“We kill it,” Gilgamesh spoke between clenched teeth as he squeezed the hilt of his own weapon.

“If it bleeds, we can kill it, eh?” The wastelander snickered behind her goggles and masked visage.

“Good way to put it,” the golden-haired ‘monarch’ replied, his stoic tone and demeanor betraying not the slightest hint of sarcasm.

“Why do I always keep running into people like this?” The woman whispered softly.

“Did you speak?” Gilgamesh inquired as he craned his neck. A layer of frost had already taken hold over the tips of his gilded hair, and his lips seemed pale beneath a thin veneer of snow.

“It’s coming!” She screamed in response as she kicked the man in the side. As the monarch toppled sideways, the xenomorph redirected and lashed out at her with its lethal hands. The woman ducked backwards and swung the lightsaber low. One of the alien’s fingers scrapped across the crown of her head, but even as she felt the cold wind on the top of her head, she heard the monster scream as a wound opened up across its left hamstring.

The xenomorph reared back up and let out a chittering scream before lunging at the prone woman. Years of combat training kicked in as she went rolling to the wayside, but even though she was back on her feet with enough time to lash out at the monster, her weapon had malfunctioned.

“Work, damn it!” She growled as she slapped the device against her hip to elicit a response.

Lurching forward, the alien monster lashed out with its bladed tail, and the woman felt part of her heavy clothes tear apart as beast sought the fleshy prize beneath. Instead, she managed to activate the lightsaber and cleave off the tip of the xenomorph’s tail as it arched forward for another attempt at her gut. Unable to relish the jaw-clenched scream of the monstrous entity, the woman tried to press the advantage, seeing as the heat of the weapon had deprived her foe of its caustic blood.

In the background, Gilgamesh entered the fray with a gilded flail that dropped thunderously upon the skull of their mutual adversary. While the lightsaber strike had gained a scream, this secondary attack evoked little more than a desperate, gurgling hiss as the xenomorph sluggishly spun to retaliate. Dropping the handle of the flail, Gilgamesh reached down and scooped up an equally gilded spear. The man took a small hop backwards that gave him the window of time and space he needed to plant one end of the weapon in the ground and the other into the xenomorph’s jaw. As the beast thrashed and screamed, the woman saw her opening and leapt onto its back. With just the slighest of smiles behind the now tattered facial wrappings, she drove the scintillating blade of the energy weapon down through the back of the xenomorph’s neck. There was a fleeting amount of resistance before she wrenched the weapon out sideways.

With its head partially crushed, impaled, and almost entirely severed from the rest of its body, the xenomorph let out one final, gurgling hiss before it collapsed into the snow, which became to bubble and steam beneath its crumbled mass.

Gilgamesh sneered as he spit on the dead monster’s corpse. “All are made to bow.” He whispered before looking up at the wastelander. “You fought well. Are you… all right?” He inquired with the slightest amount of hesitation in his voice.

“We should drag this back to the caverns,” the woman spoke, ignoring what felt like a partially forced platitude. “The undamaged plates on the back can be crafted into effective bracers, and if the teeth aren’t broken, they can be effective in close quarters combat.”

The man scowled. Before Inverxe, he may have made a snide comment asking her if she intended to boil the monster’s bone broth for sustenance, but after struggling to survive on the hostile world, he tempered his intended retort. “Help us,” he spoke to the surviving members of his makeshift retinue. “Back into the caves.”

“And we’ll have to move quickly,” the woman whispered to him. “Before more hatch.”

 

[Gilgamesh]

As the adrenaline faded from his veins, the extent of the cold became more apparent. The harsh winds continually slapped his face, turning his lips blue. His armor and makeshift clothing did little to abate the elements. He resisted the urge to chatter his teeth and collapse. Attempting to keep composure, he barked an order to his men, “Hurry, we cannot defeat this beast to end up freezing in the cold now.” A few of his men rushed out, trodding in the knee-deep snow and pulled the xenomorph by its arms back into the cave.

As they reached the mouth of the cave, Gilgamesh felt relief as the wind stopped biting his ears and neck. His motley crew was silent, their eyes cast on the floor away from the hideous creature that had culled their numbers. Just as he was about to speak, the woman pushed past Gilgamesh, shoving past his shoulder. Gilgamesh choked back a growl and clenched his fist. The tension was already high between the two and she was a valuable asset. She had clearly been on this planet long enough to know how to survive; both from those creatures and the harsh elements of this plane.

“Come,” Gilgamesh commanded, “we should venture deeper inside if we do not wish to freeze.” As they came to a spot Gilgamesh deemed fit, he raised his hand to halt the crew. “This place will do for now. We need to rest,” Gilgamesh declared. He rested on the floor, one hand on his fresh wound. He winced. His makeshift-cauterized wound was still extremely tender. He may have been too cavalier about burning himself; he could feel the glossy skin as if it was the beginning of a blister. As the rest of the crew unpacked their bags and sat down, they all shifted uncomfortably as the woman began to scavenge the xenomorph for usable bits. The silence hung in the air, creating an uneasy, stiff tension in the room. This was not aided by the occasional crunch of breaking plates and bone. Taking the initiative to revive morale, the King braced himself against the wall and stood up.

“I believe this is an occasion that requires celebration,” Gilgamesh proclaimed, raising his arm as a fist. “Gregory. Johnson. You two fetch the wood. We shall not be cold tonight.” The two hesitated, before reluctantly turning back to fetch the remaining wood that they had left in their packs. Gilgamesh outstretched his hand to summon a golden portal, withdrawing a few bottles of wine and golden cups. The woman scoffed before ending her task and resting her back on the wall of the cavern. While she didn’t appreciate the company, it seemed she was better off because of it. A sly smile emerged on a few of his men as they passed the opulent glasses, taking the rare chance to admire the craftsmanship. Gregory and Johnson returned with the remainder of the firewood, plopping it in the middle of the group. Johnson looked away in pain as he squirted a small bottle of gasoline onto the wood. Kneeling down, he struck a match, lighting the makeshift campfire ablaze, cringing as he did so.

“There goes the last of our firewood,” Gregory sighed before slumping to the ground.

“We shall go out in search of wood tomorrow, but today we carouse!” Gilgamesh exclaimed as he pulled the cork out of the wine bottle with a POP. Gilgamesh poured each of the men a glass of his fine wine, taking solace as their bodies relaxed in response to the delicious liquor. The King of Heroes poured a glass for their new compatriot and extended it to her, with a confident smile. She turned her nose at the glass and harrumphed. “We’ve earned this. Don’t you think?” Gilgamesh inquired with a hint of irritation in his voice.

“I don’t know how you can all sit here just drinking booze. More of them can show up at any time now! We need to be alert,” the woman chided, folding her arms across her chest and peering into the void of the cave, scanning for threats.

Gilgamesh retorted back with a dismissive tone, “We shall just kill any others as we just did. Now that we know our enemy, we can dispatch them with ease.” He paused to take a swig of his wine, the ambrosia tickling his taste buds and warming his veins. Letting out a satisfied gasp, he continued, “We won a great victory against this planet today! We must take time to enjoy ourselves.”

Her passive-aggressive comments turned to anger, “There is no winning against Inverxe. There is only survival. If you aren’t eaten, you go mad, or you succumb to the cold, or you starve.”

“We must take time to relish our survival. Living without joy or pleasure is not a life worth living,” he condescended, tightening his grip on the glass of wine.

“There is no joy left on Inverxe! There never was. This planet is barren and only exists to kill us,” she shouted, glaring at Gilgamesh. She could not believe how such a man was still alive on this planet. He most likely has gotten everyone he has ever cared about killed.

His men murmured to themselves, startled and nervous. Attempting to regain control of his men, Gilgamesh steeled his own nerves. He did his best to brush off her anger, trying to remain calm, “If there is no joy to be had here, then we shall leave. There must be another plane that is more hospitable”

The woman’s furious frown left her lips as she began to hysterically laugh. “Leave Inverxe? I doubt that even with all of our credits combined, we could afford a ticket off this place.”

“Then we will make enough of these ‘credits’ to leave,” he asserted as he swirled the wine in his glass. “Or we can seize what we need by force. It does rightfully belong to me, the King,” he decreed before chugging the remainder of his glass.

 

[Android XVII]

She couldn’t quite wrap her mind around the entity who sat across the fire from her. On one hand, Gilgamesh was a blithering idiot who clearly liked to hear himself speak, yet he was also somewhat capable of holding his own against the harsh elements of the planet. Of all the people she had encountered during her time on Inverxe, Gilgamesh was both the most irritating and most competent in regards to killing the monsters that needed to be killed.

With the wine passing around the circle, the woman stepped back from the group and retreated into an adjacent tunnel. Slouching down low to the ground, she let out a long, haggard sigh as she reached a hand up to the top of her head. In the scuffle with the xenomorph, she had taken a few blows too many, and a quick brush of her fingers showed that the reinforced leather cap was toast.

“Fuck,” she muttered as she stripped away the cloth wraps that concealed the lower part of her face. With that layer gone, she found the buttons and clasps that kept the now-ruined helmet in place, and once those had been popped, she discarded the headwear. She had already patched the leather three times before, and at this rate, it would be a safer bet to simply wait to relieve one from a corpse than to risk another stich job. The cap fell away to reveal a head of unkempt red hair that cascaded down to her shoulders once free of the helmet’s oppressive grip.

Shaking the hair loose, the woman peeled off the visors, noting that the right lens had a series of hairline fractures that could split apart and bury glass in her eyes in the event of an ill-placed blow to the head. “Garbage,” she murmured as she threw the visor into the darkness.

With a frown, she turned her focus to the heavy cloak she wore over the mismatched ‘armor’ that shielded her from the worst of Inverxe. The cloak had been torn over the right breast, and to make matters worse, the protective layering had also been compromised by the xenomorph. A lingering look revealed the old clothes that she had been clothed in during her first ‘landing’ on this infernal planet.

Further down her body, one of her boots was starting to lose a sole, and the other had been compromised to the extent where she would have to lash it around her calf with rope to keep it secure.

The damage she had sustained over just the last few hours would take a countless number of intact corpses to repair. That thought alone caused the slightest twinges of panic to creep into the stem of her brain. Was her battle with Inverxe coming to an end? Was this her version of the end times?

Lifting her green eyes up to the source of light further down the tunnel, the woman realized that – at least for the interim – her fate was linked to the king and his retinue of scavengers and castaways.

***​

The formerly gold-plated monarch was perched on a stone above the fire. The flames, still burning strong off their remaining firewood, cast dire shadows across his stony visage as he held his hands out wide for all to see. “And then I bitch slapped that robo-rodent straight to hell!”

At that point, the woman had returned to the scene around the fire, and her entrance tore the king away from his ‘storytelling’.

Gilgamesh scowled. “So, there was an actual woman beneath all that refuse?”

“Keep your dick in your pants,” the woman replied bluntly.

After a pregnant pause, the surviving members of Gilgamesh’s ‘retinue’ all burst out into drunken laughter, and while it was clear that the man with the gilded hair was fuming, he allowed the comment to slide and even pasted a serpentine smirk on his face.

“Har har,” he shot back beneath the laughter as he returned to his seat. “Come, Woman, what is your story? Or would you like to mask this with more crude jokes?”

She smiled at the realization that she had gotten under the man’s skin. For some reason, it had been amusing to see him so rankled—it provided the slimmest veneer of humanity beneath all of his bombast. “I was a soldier,” she replied as Gilgamesh walked around the fire and stopped a few paces away from her. The man’s eyes fell to her chest, but she quickly realized he wasn’t attempting to oogle her. He had noticed the broken nametag that still clung to the ‘army greens’ she still wore beneath the scavenged armor and the heavy cloak.

“You name tag is broken,” he scowled. “June… junena… What type of fucking name is that supposed to be?”

“My name hasn’t been important since I fell to this hellscape. But if you’re that thirsty, you can just call me PJ,” she interrupted.

“That is sleepwear.”

“Then what the fuck is a Gilgamesh? Sounds like a reptile.”

Gilgamesh, realizing that the crew around them was once again lost to fits of drink-fueled laughter, simply sneered at the woman. Much like she had realized earlier, he understood that she was the most competent person around, and he very much wanted to find the means to leave this frozen wasteland before he became food for some undead monster or over-evolved alien predator.

“Drink?” The golden-haired monarch said with another partially forced smile.

“I’ll pass,” the woman replied. “It dulls the senses too much, and I’m not a fan of being impregnated by an alien while I’m sleeping.”

At that, the surviving members of Gilgamesh’s crew all stopped laughing abruptly. Their eyes fell to the cups in their hands, but after a short moment, they all downed their glasses and started to once again murmur and chat amongst themselves.

“Cheerful as always, Pajamas,” Gilgamesh remarked.

“I do try, Gigasaurus.”

 

[Gilgamesh]

The rest of the night was haunted by the awkward conversation held previously. While ‘PJ’ was still on high alert, the rest of Gilgamesh’s crew eventually sombered off to bed. Gilgamesh and Pj were the only ones sober enough to keep watch. The roaring flames eventually died off to embers, coating the room in dim light. With a wave of his hand, the golden glassware and spilled wine evaporated into a cloud of golden dust. Though normally this was a good party trick, PJ didn’t seem very impressed other than her cursory glance. Her hands unconsciously fiddled with her broken armor pieces as she intently stared off into the bleeding darkness.

As his men slept peacefully, Gilgamesh broke the silence between the two. “How difficult is it actually to leave Inverxe,” he sighed. Now that it was just between the two, Gilgamesh had let himself take off his facade. His eyes were cast on the ground, staring at his men. They were potentially the beginning. Hopefully his last beginning.

Seemingly unfazed by this sudden transition, she replied calmly, “Quite difficult.” She let out a pained sigh before continuing, “We would need to cross this icy wasteland and reach one of the mining towns. There we would have to get a ship back to The Hub”

“Tch,” Gilgamesh scoffed. “I’m guessing it is more difficult than it sounds.”

“Even if you get past the Necromorphs and Xenomorphs, the towns aren’t exactly hospitable” She turned her head to the side, averting Gilgamesh’s gaze. “There’s a reason why people would rather be out here.”

Gilgamesh chuckled to himself, “Then it must be bad.” PJ nodded in affirmation. “Especially if it turned a competent soldier like you into a deserter.” PJ turned to shoot a death glare at Gilgamesh.

“Don’t act like you know me,” she hissed. Her eyes burrowed themselves into Gilgamesh’s skull.

“I know most deserters are too ashamed to wear their dog tags,” Gilgamesh snidely remarked. “Considering how effectively you dispatched that insect, I would assess that you were quite the soldier. It makes me wonder where the rest of your squad is,” the King prodded.

“The planet took them. That’s what happened,” she growled. Her hand rested on the hilt of her faulty lightsaber, her finger gingerly above the button. Realizing that he had irritated the one person who had any idea on how to escape this hellhole, Gilgamesh cast down his eyes. Hopefully, his corpse would not be the one to help repair PJ’s armor.

“I think I’ve had enough conversation for the night, your highness,” she mocked. “Hopefully your loud mouth won’t attract the aliens while you’re on watch,” she sneered. Before Gilgamesh could speak, she had laid on the floor and turned from him. Eventually, the drunken snores of his men echoed in the cavern and his eyelids felt heavy. While Gilgamesh occasionally poked a random member of his retinue to see if they would take over his shift, the booze had left them all in hibernation. He continued to fight to stay awake for the rest of the night, on alert so that he wouldn’t lose any more of his men. His head kept nodding off before jolting back up into consciousness. After what felt like days, a few of his men began to awake. Trying his best to maintain that superior and smooth aura, whilst exhausted, he straightened his posture.

“Perfect, you all are beginning to awaken,” he rasped. He let out a restrained cough to clear his throat before continuing. “Do you happen to know where the closest Hub mining town is?”

The rest of his men eventually rose from their drunken stupor, along with PJ, who was no longer looking in Gilgamesh’s direction. Gilgamesh walked to the front of the group. “It seems we are still days, maybe even weeks from the closest station. We should carry on carefully, collecting wood and meat whenever possible. Once you all have collected yourselves, we shall press on,” he commanded. After a brief silence, the group broke into conversation and Gilgamesh walked to the mouth of the cave. The grey sky and eternal twilight might almost seem beautiful if the harsh winds weren’t blistering the King’s lips. Gilgamesh felt someone else’s presence nearby. He turned his head to see PJ staring straight forward into the field of snow. A moment of silence lingered in the air for an uncomfortable period of time.

Gilgamesh broke it, “I apologize for any missteps I may have made last night. Your past is yours alone.” He crossed his arms over his chest. His hot breath steaming the air in front of him. And without a word, PJ turned around and traversed back into the cave. Taking that as his cue, Gilgamesh let out a sigh before following shortly after. Finding that most of his men had collected their belongings and the valuable parts of the Xenomorph, Gilgamesh nodded. “Let’s depart.”

The extreme cold bit at all of their extremities. The snow, knee-deep. After almost a full day of travel, or what felt like it since there is no sun to rise or fall, the group eventually sprung themselves on a cave. One with a nearby thermal vent, as the snow had begun to thin near the entrance. The area around was almost an ice-Oasis, a blessing from the Gods. The thermal pocket allowed for arboreal life to take root and there seemed to be aquatic life underneath a thick block of ice. Gilgamesh turned around and held up his fist.

“We stop here for the time being. Might as well gather some resources. You lot, fetch some wood. The rest of you hunt for fish. Do not stray too far, so that I may arrive in the event you need protection,” he commanded. It took every ounce of effort to stay on his feet. As soon as most of the men had turned their backs, Gilgamesh collapsed into the thin, wet snow. PJ stood over Gilgamesh, with a shit-eating grin and an extended hand. The King waved away the assistant and tried to get back onto his feet. However, his legs shook beneath his weight and forced him back on his knees.

“Aren’t I the one who is supposed to be kneeling?” PJ mocked, offering her hand once again. Reluctantly, Gilgamesh firmly grasped her hand for support, allowing her to assist him over to the nearest trunk. “At least we found someplace where we won’t freeze to death,” she joked. Gilgamesh gave a polite chuckle.

“Do you have any clue where we are?” Gilgamesh inquired, exasperated.

“Closer than where we were earlier,” she stated matter of factly. Gilgamesh could use a lieutenant like her here in his new world, though it seems that it was unlikely. He corrected his posture, clutching his still-fresh wound on his side, and began to discuss with her the next leg of their trip.

An hour passed by. The fishing crew had brought back their meager catches, the allure of the warm cave discouraged them from staying out much longer. However, it took much longer for the wood crew to arrive. After a few more hours, the other crew returned out of breath. They bent over panting and with confusion drawn all over their face. They were silent.

“Speak,” Gilgamesh commanded with a hint of concern. “Now.” His eyes passed over everyone, making sure that they were intact. “Wait...one is missing.”

 

[Android XVII]

“It was horrible,” the man whispered as Gilgamesh paced up and down the row that compromised the remainder of the wood crew. “You wouldn’t believe it unless you saw it with your own eyes, boss man!” The speaker was a husky man who could likely carry a tree or two upon his broad shoulders, but in this situation, he seemed like he was on the edge of a panic attack.

Gilgamesh, who had heard the story already, wasn’t nonplussed by the tale itself. “You would be surprised what would rattle me, Billy Rae,” he replied.

“Damn trees, though!”

“Certainly not an exciting concept,” the would-be monarch muttered as he stared out into the haze through which the men had shambled and lurched like drunken frat boys just a few minutes earlier.

“We need to leave!” Billy Rae declared as he stepped forward and dragged his hands down his chubby face. “I don’t want to be raped by a tree like Jeremiah was, boss man! I don’t want any bit of that in my life. I’d rather wrestle with a xenomorph than get an enema with a fucking tree branch.”

“Enough!” Gilgamesh barked as he clenched a fist and stared at the scant wood rations the crew had salvaged before their operation had turned sour. “We have enough tinder to keep us warm enough through the night.”

“But the trees!”

“Did this tree have legs?” The golden-haired man shouted as he turned sharply to face the new speaker. When no immediate response came, Gilgamesh relaxed his posture and pointed out through the storm. “Tomorrow we will move out at the crack of dawn, when the temperature starts to climb.” His eyes narrowed, and for a moment, the woman who stood silently in the shadows behind him thought he was trailing movement out there. She found herself leaning forward to pose that question when the man shook his head and turned to Billy Rae. “If it will please you, you can sleep in the chamber further into this cavern, but I would advise you not to go any further. It would be difficult to track down any screams in those labyrinthine passages.”

As the crowd dispersed, the woman emerged from the shadows and cleared her throat in the loudest manner possible.

“You should get that check out,” Gilgamesh grumbled as he spotted some spatters of blood on the ground and tried to grind them into the soil with the heel of his boot. “At the rate this is going, I will lose them all by the time we cover a few miles of this alien-infested snowscape.”

“The monsters are only the immediate concern.”

“I understand that, Pajamas.”

The woman crinkled her nose as she gestured out into the nearly subzero snowstorm just yards removed from their ‘shelter’. “So, Gilgzilla, what if this storm isn’t gone by first light? You said it yourself, we don’t have firewood to last a second night, and none of them—or myself, for that matter—are going to turn around and wade back through those dank tunnels once again.”

“I… I don’t know,” Gilgamesh muttered as he started to eye around the room. Before that, he had spent a couple seconds once again staring into the grayish haze of the surface. “Can you assist me with this?” He asked as he pointed to a large rock that had mostly broken away from the wall of the cave. “I believe we can use this to shield the majority of this entrance.”

A quick glance told the woman that the golden-haired man would be correct so long as the rock didn’t shatter apart during movement. Fortunately for the twosome, they were able to move the stone without having to break it apart into smaller pieces, and while it didn’t cover the top sixteen inches of the cave’s mouth, it seemed to give Gilgamesh some piece of mind.

“Are you seeing shapes out there in the storm?” The former soldier asked as she wiped her gloves clean of the dust and grime.

“Yes,” Gilgamesh stated plainly as he turned to cast a quick gaze at the fire burning down inside the cave. “I can’t tell if it’s real or simply the ill effects of this place.”

“You’ll know soon enough,” she replied. “I think we have other problems, though.”

“What?”

“The fishing crew.”

The man furrowed his brow as he sagged against the wall of the cave. “They did an admirable job and not a single one of them was sexually assaulted and murdered by a sentient forest… what do you mean they are a problem?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “Something just seems off about … I think their names are Lincoln and Bellows? The two, uh…” She struggled for the term that she thought would best make sense to a man who had seemingly crashed onto this planet wearing plate armor. “The Eastern ones.”

Gilgamesh once more cast a glimpse at the fire, but at this distance, he could only spot vague shapes of his retinue members. “They seemed fine to me. Neither of them talks much anyway.”

“They smell wrong,” she whispered. “And I don’t mean because they smell like they were butchering sea creatures or that they had to lather themselves in blubber to protect against the elements. They just.” She paused, as she could see that the man with the golden hair wasn’t following her train of thought. “Just keep an eye on them.”

“Should I keep an eye on you when your deodorant wears off?” He sneered.

The woman snickered. “Fuck you too, Goldar.”

“I don’t wallow in the gutters, Pajamas,” Gilgamesh shot back.

The woman flashed a particular finger in the direction of her traveling companion. “I’m going back to sleep. Try not to wake me up with night terrors, and if you’re stabbed in your sleep, I don’t want to hear about it.”

 

[Gilgamesh]

With their brief encounter over, Gilgamesh shot PJ a dirty look before sombering over to the small fire that his crew had assembled. He took a seat, the crackling of the fish’s skin made his stomach gurgle in anticipation. Everyone was pleasantly chatting, likely to help the ‘wood team’ forget the traumatic events that had just occurred. A scene like this, of his people getting along and feasting would ordinarily fill Gilgamesh with joy. And yet, he felt uneasy. While his stomach was focused on the upcoming meal, his gut told him something was off. PJ’s words echoed through his mind, ‘They smell wrong’. What on earth did she mean by that? The King wanted to dismiss her, but she was the expert of this planet. If she thinks something is wrong...Gilgamesh looked over towards Lincoln and Bellows, sitting quietly by the fire and smiling whenever someone delivered a clever joke. They...seemed fine.

He shifted uncomfortably as the second fish was put over the fire. He had to know. Gilgamesh grunted as he got up from his seat and he motioned to Mac and Blair. “Come. We need to talk,” he commanded. Mac chuckled uncomfortably and raised an eyebrow towards the group to which he received a few shrugs. “You will not keep me waiting,” Gilgamesh decreed as he continued into the cavernous maze. He eventually stopped at a corner at which the fire was just visible, but the others were out of sight. Mac and Blair strolled up, confused and nervous about why the King was in a foul mood.

“What’s up, Gil?” Mac spoke, burying his hands into his pockets and swaying his weight back and forth.

Gilgamesh narrowed his eyes, leaned forward, and spoke in a forced whisper, “Did you notice anything strange with Lincoln and Bellows? Did something happen when you were fishing?”

Mac and Blair exchanged looks before answering. Blair spoke up, “No, they seemed normal as far as I know. They didn’t bring back too much to eat, but shitty fishing is hardly weird.”

Mac interjected, “Well they thought we were too crowded and that we wouldn’t get many fish so they went further ahead. The blizzard got bad so we lost track of them but they came back after about an hour with their catch.”

Gilgamesh put his hand to his chin, thinking. “Might something have happened to them? You two know this planet more than I.”

Mac shook his head, “The only surface threats I know of are the Xenomorphs and Necromorphs. They would have told us if they had ran into one of those.”

Blair’s eyes went wide, “What if one of those face huggers got to them or something like a parasite?”

Gilgamesh waved his hand, “They would still inform us about this. Besides those ‘face-huggers’ as you call them quickly kill their prey. ”

Mac nodded and agreed, “And besides, if anyone could have been infected by a parasite it would be you, Blair.”

Blair jolted his head and scrunched up his face, “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

Mac shrugged, “All I’m saying is that you left to take a piss and came back half an hour later.”

Blair raised his voice, “So I’m trouble because I take long shits? Fuck you Mac.”

Mac pointed a finger directly at Blairs face, “It would give something ample time. Besides I don’t fucking trust you.” Blair stepped forward and leaned into Mac’s face, shooting him a death glare.

The two were getting heated and Gilgamesh didn’t want to cause a fight. He forced his body between the two, facing Blair. “Enough,” Gilgamesh demanded. “We cannot fight against one another when the planet is trying to kill us.”

Blair’s eyes widened in fear as Gilgamesh could hear the ripping of flesh and breaking of bone. Slowly turning his head, Gilgamesh was met with the bloody abomination that used to be Mac. His face was split in two, with enormous teeth protruding from both ends. The insides were filled to the brim with flailing tentacles, reaching out for any flesh it could grab. It’s hands were long and bony and had grown claws. The creature let out a screech as it charged forward. Gilgamesh grabbed Blair and jumped out of the way. Rolling when he hit the ground, he extended his hand summoning a golden axe into his hand. He put his other hand in front of the prone Blair.

“What the fuck is that thing?” Blair whimpered as he tried to scurry away.

“It seems we found a parasite and it didn’t like being caught,” Gilgamesh seethed. The Mac-Thing charged, its tentacles whipping around. The Golden King rolled out of its reach, slicing across it’s leg. Blood spattered across the cavern wall and the Mac-Thing groaned in pain, but not before sinking it’s skull-jaws into Blair’s face. It unhinged it’s jaw to allow Blair’s corpse to slither in easier, but Gilgamesh lodged his axe into it’s back, with seemingly no effect.

“Pajamas!” Gilgamesh screamed. “Someone! Bring the energy sword!” He took a few steps back before summoning a spear from his arsenal. The Mac-Thing finished consuming it’s meal but didn’t appreciate its position being given and charged towards Gilgamesh, who lodged his feet into the ground and thrusted it into the Thing’s skull. This didn’t stop its pursuit, but merely slowed it down enough to allow Gilgamesh to run. With it close on his tail, Gilgamesh sprang forth, the safety of fire and his crew abating some of his fears. His men, still confused, had turned their heads to see what the commotion was about. From the darkness appeared Gilgamesh, sprinting, with the horrific Mac-Thing close behind. A chorus of ‘What the fuck!’s resonated through the cavern as they scrambled to their feet. Gilgamesh could feel the Mac-Thing’s presence right behind him, so he leaped over the fire, opening a few golden portals and firing blindly behind him. While many of the weaponry hit the rocky walls, the sound of soft flesh giving way to steel was comforting. After he landed, he turned his head, witnessing the Mac-Thing with a sword in its side and its tentacles cocooning around another of his retinue. Mumbling curses under his breath, he extended his arm to summon another weapon, but was pushed out of the way.

PJ pushed past him, slamming the hilt of her blade on her side a few times before the familiar light had burst forth. The Mac-Thing jolted whatever remained of its head towards her and sent the oozing-tentacles towards her. However, PJ elegantly twirled the sword in her hands, searing off any tentacles that was aimed at her. She raised the blade as the Mac-Thing turned fully toward her. As it let out a drawn-out howl, she lowered the saber on its torso cleaving it nearly in twain. It made an effort to bite her, but she sidestepped and kicked it’s back. The force sent it stumbling into the flame, catching the entire creature ablaze. It let out a horrifying yell before trying to escape the fire, taking a few steps before collapsing on the ground as it burned to a crisp.

PJ walked up to Gilgamesh, panting slightly as they both stared in disbelief at the creature. “I thought I told you not to wake me up, Gigasaur.”

He scrunched his nose at the creature, “This creature did not fall to my blades and had perfectly mimicked one of my own. I had hoped that you would know how to deal with it, Pajamas.”

She shook her head, “I have never heard of anything like this.”
“At least it is dead,” Gilgamesh sighed.

A pregnant pause was left between the two until she muttered, “I doubt that this was the only one.”