"A civilization so minuscule—a world of ant-sized, intelligent beings."
Xu Zhi lowered his gaze, watching the tiny, limited creatures he had nurtured into wisdom. Observing this frail, white-haired elder kneeling below filled him with a sense of melancholy. He vividly recalled the day when this same tiny insect ape—then green and youthful—stood proudly atop the sacred tree, brandishing the Sword of Damocles and shouting fiercely toward the heavens. Now, the spirited youth had become an old man, his life nearing its inevitable conclusion. His former, fiery ambitions seemed as though they had occurred just yesterday—indeed, from Xu Zhi's perspective, it truly had been mere days.
For Xu Zhi, those seemingly endless years were nothing but a fleeting moment.
"Gilgamesh, how have you fared these many years?" Xu Zhi asked gently, his voice passing through the clouds and echoing softly above the central palace in the bustling city of Uruk.
Gilgamesh, leaning heavily on his sacred sword, began to tremble.
"I…I've done well enough," he rasped, his throat parched, gazing upward at the towering giant beyond the clouds.
Even having met this immense being once before, he still felt awed by its presence—an immense figure whose colossal form pierced the heavens, its body seemingly holding up the sky itself. The giant's visage was concealed by radiant brilliance, yet through the swirling clouds, a sacred glow emanated clearly, revealing eyes filled with an unfathomable depth.
As the giant surveyed all of Uruk, it embodied majesty, solemnity, and divinity, a presence so overwhelming that mortal language failed to capture its splendor.
"By the heavens!"
"It truly exists!"
Millions within the city—rich merchants in fine leather, slaves in ragged clothes, noblewomen in elegant gowns, craftsmen and commoners alike—stopped their tasks and poured onto the streets, gazing upward in awe at the colossal figure piercing through the clouds.
"They say it is the wise giant—our civilization's beacon—ten thousand feet tall."
"This is the legendary giant who once gave us the treasures of wisdom…"
"A being whose lifespan rivals the sun, moon, and stars!"
Speechless, the people stared in awe. Longing, fear, and reverence swirled together, finally merging into profound veneration.
Even palace ministers, witnessing this spectacle for the first time, visibly trembled. Gilgamesh couldn't help but smile bitterly; he vividly recalled his own youthful reaction—a similar blend of astonishment and terror.
After a lengthy silence, Gilgamesh raised his head, eyes brimming with longing, and declared loudly, "O wise giant, the civilization you entrusted to me over a century ago has come to fruition."
Xu Zhi's voice, resonating through the clouds like the sound of a mighty bell, descended upon Uruk: "Your great deeds shall be recorded in the Sumerian epic—the 'Genesis.' Future generations will forever remember you as the greatest first king of Sumerian civilization—the Hero King Gilgamesh. Songs will honor your glory through the ages."
"No!" Gilgamesh suddenly shouted fiercely, his voice filled with passionate urgency. "Fame that lives on merely as legends whispered after death—that is not what I desire!"
"Then what is it you desire?" Xu Zhi asked calmly.
"I want eternal life—like yours!" Gilgamesh cried fervently, gazing intently at the towering giant above him, desperate and yearning. "I would sacrifice everything I possess, give up all my treasures—grant me the three treasures of immortality!"
Xu Zhi fell into silent contemplation.
Gilgamesh—a king who had possessed nearly all the world's riches, honors, power, and wealth—was still unsatisfied.
Eternal life… Xu Zhi himself craved it desperately!
Struggling against terminal illness and facing death's imminent arrival, Xu Zhi deeply envied Gilgamesh's magnificent and epic existence, a life seemingly plucked straight from legend.
"Gilgamesh, you are too greedy. I have no treasures of eternal life to offer," Xu Zhi replied calmly, looking down at the aging king. "Life and death are natural laws; I cannot defy them."
When approaching the end, everyone yearns desperately for survival.
At this very moment, Xu Zhi felt as though all distinctions of rank, wealth, or civilization had vanished. Amid the infinite vastness of existence, he and Gilgamesh were simply two pitiable souls, silently awaiting their deaths with heavy, fearful hearts.
Whether an emperor or an ant, all eventually returned to dust.
Xu Zhi nearly uttered, "I, too, will soon face death."
But he held back those words, simply gazing downward at the city with profound sorrow.
"No—no…" Gilgamesh rasped, his throat dry and voice hoarse. He stared up at the giant shrouded by swirling clouds, unwilling to accept defeat. "You deceive me—you can grant eternal life! You clearly possess it!"
His eyes burned intensely as he gazed upon Xu Zhi's immense, youthful form—towering like eternal mountains, never yielding or aging. For two hundred years Gilgamesh had aged, yet not a single mark of time touched the face of this wise giant. To the giant, time seemed no more than a single day.
To Gilgamesh, this mysterious being symbolized immortality itself.
"What unimaginable power…what an irresistible promise of everlasting life!"
Gilgamesh's lips trembled, his voice dropping to a whisper before suddenly erupting into defiance. He roared furiously, "Then why have you appeared now? Is it to watch me die—a miserable, trembling wretch, resigned to my fate?"
"I came to see you off—not to prolong your life—but to mark this second passing of your civilization and offer a final warning," Xu Zhi replied with a sigh. "Your civilization is becoming too ruthless, destroying the forests, slaughtering creatures, ravaging ecosystems. True civilization is neither savage nor destructive. I demand you cease your endless killing."
"Cease… killing?"
Though Gilgamesh's once-mighty frame was now weathered with age, his spirit remained fierce. Suddenly, he began trembling violently, his gaze igniting with fiery determination, burning brightly once again.
The white-haired elder took a resolute step forward, his voice thunderous: "No! The killing cannot stop, and my steps will never falter! Have you forgotten the Sword of Damocles you once granted me? It's hovered over my head for years, granting me immense power yet filling me with endless dread. Today, I will finally wield the sword that hangs above me!"
"Akad!"
"Your humble servant is here."
The court chronicler, responsible for recording the 'Genesis,' stepped forward cautiously.
"Record this very moment—this turning point in our civilization's history!" Gilgamesh's command rang with fierce strength.
At a scarlet writing desk, Akad silently unrolled a scroll made from grey beast hide, raised a quill, and responded solemnly, "Your Majesty, speak."
"Humanity's struggle against nature is a tale of courage, a testament of defiance worthy of remembrance. I commissioned the writing of 'Genesis' precisely to preserve our ancestors' bravery against the power of nature."
"Now, record clearly our courage at this moment."
Gilgamesh drew a deep breath, firmly gripping the Sword of Damocles. He laughed with aged yet indomitable strength and declared:
"Genesis—In the 175th year of the Sumerian dynasty, after I slew the mightiest legendary beast Fenba, I, Hero King Gilgamesh—who has borne the sword for over a century—once again lifted my blade, rallied the nation, summoned the wise giant from heaven…and swung my sword to challenge the wise giant himself!"