"A miniature civilized world. Sentient beings the size of ants."
Xu Zhi bowed his head, a quiet sense of satisfaction washing over him as he surveyed the delicate world before him. It was a world he had carefully sculpted, evolving its sentient inhabitants from nothing into beings capable of thought, emotion, and ambition. He gazed at the white-haired old man before him, whose tear-streaked face stirred something deep within Xu Zhi's chest.
This old man—Gilgamesh—had once been the young Bugape Xu Zhi had cradled in his palm all those years ago. He had been a fiery, passionate youth standing atop the Divine Tree, making grand vows, sword raised high against the heavens. Now, he was nothing but an aging king, preparing for his inevitable end.
Xu Zhi could still remember that youthful fire as if it had been just yesterday. In truth, it had been a mere two days ago in his world, but to the Bugapes, it felt like an eternity.
"Gilgamesh," Xu Zhi murmured, his voice cutting through the heavy clouds, carrying across the holy city of Uruk. "How have you been all these years?"
Gilgamesh trembled, his hand tightening around the hilt of his divine sword.
"I... I've been well."
His voice was thick, as dry as the desert air, but it held a sense of awe as he looked up at the towering figure above. It wasn't the first time he'd encountered Xu Zhi, but the sight of the great titan still stole his breath away. The giant's massive form pierced the clouds, his body seeming to support both heaven and earth. Holy light radiated from him, his face as brilliant and blinding as the sun itself.
His eyes—eyes as deep and eternal as the void—swept over the city of Uruk. Majestic. Magnificent. Divine. Words, mere mortal words, failed to capture the sheer grandeur of the being before them.
"Oh God…"
"He truly exists!"
The streets of Uruk had emptied. Merchants in fine leather, slaves in rags, noblewomen in opulent gowns, and commoners alike stood in stunned silence, their gazes locked on the giant in the sky.
"The legendary Great Beast of Wisdom... the being who gifted us civilization..."
"A colossus over ten thousand feet tall!"
"An existence that rivals the sun, the moon, the very stars!"
Their emotions were a swirl of reverence, longing, and awe—transformed into a worshipful fervor that filled the air like a tangible presence.
The royal court too was paralyzed by disbelief. Gilgamesh, looking up at the giant, was reminded of the awe he had felt during their first meeting. He steadied himself and, after a long pause, spoke, his voice full of longing and hunger, "Great Beast of Wisdom, I have accomplished the mission you set for me long ago."
Xu Zhi stood as a titan, his voice booming across the city. "Gilgamesh, your deeds will be immortalized in the Epic of Genesis. You will be remembered as the first and greatest king in the history of Sumerian civilization. The King of Heroes. Future generations will sing your praises."
Gilgamesh's eyes hardened. "No. I don't want eternal glory after death. I don't want to be nothing more than a legend."
Xu Zhi's gaze softened, though his words remained firm. "Then what is it that you desire?"
"I want to be like you," Gilgamesh cried, his voice trembling with fervor. "I want eternal life. I will give up everything. I will do anything—please, grant me the Three Treasures of Immortality!"
Xu Zhi fell silent, his gaze lingering on the king's weary, aging form.
Gilgamesh had achieved everything—glory, wealth, power, women. The world had bowed at his feet. And yet, it wasn't enough. Even he, the once-great king, craved something more. Something Xu Zhi himself longed for—eternal life.
But Xu Zhi shook his head. "You are too greedy, Gilgamesh. I do not have the Three Treasures of Immortality. Even I cannot change the cycle of life and death."
Gilgamesh's face twisted in disbelief. "No... no, you're lying! You can do it! You must be able to do it!"
The fire in his eyes burned hotter, his voice rising in fury. "You are a god. You are eternal. How can you not grant me this? You who possess such power, such strength—how can you leave me to die like this?"
Xu Zhi's expression grew somber, the weight of time pressing on him. "I have come to see you off. I cannot extend your life, Gilgamesh. I have come to watch the passing of a civilization... and to deliver a warning."
Gilgamesh's anger flared, his hands gripping his sword. "A warning? What is there left to say, but this?" He spat, his voice cutting through the silence, "You've come to watch a dying man wither away, helpless in his own decay?"
Xu Zhi's voice softened, yet still rang with undeniable power. "Your civilization is brutal, Gilgamesh. You trample over the land, consume everything in your path—forests, beasts, life itself. You claim dominion over the earth, but no civilization built on such violence will endure. Stop this mindless destruction."
"Stop killing?" Gilgamesh's laugh was bitter, his voice hoarse. He took a step forward, trembling with emotion as his snow-white hair billowed in an unseen wind. "No. Killing is the essence of my reign. The sword you gave me, the Sword of Damocles, has hung over my head for centuries. But it has granted me power—and now, I will pull it down, with my own hands."
He turned to the historian, Akkad, who stood waiting.
"Akkad," Gilgamesh said, his voice steadying, "Record this moment, as I dictate it, for the history of our civilization."
Akkad nodded silently, unrolling a grey leather scroll and lifting his quill.
"Let it be known," Gilgamesh began, his voice resonating with the weight of generations. "The struggle of man against nature is a story of passion, of defiance. The Epic of Genesis has been written so that future generations may learn from us, to know the courage we displayed in the face of adversity. And now, let the courage I show today be recorded, for it will be my legacy."
Gilgamesh paused, breathing deeply, leaning on the Sword of Damocles as though it were a physical weight bearing down on him.
"Era of Genesis. Year 175 of the Sumerian Dynasty. One hundred years after slaying the legendary behemoth Fenba, the Hero King—having sealed his sword—now prepares for battle once again. Calling upon the strength of his nation, he lures out the Great Beast of Wisdom and prepares to strike him down."
The echoes of his voice reverberated, carried by the winds of time, marking the final chapter in the story of Gilgamesh.