Study
"Doctor, you prepared the book I requested?" I ask, collecting an item from Roman one day.
During Fuyuki, I asked for compiled materials on Gilgamesh.
"All set. The Epic of Gilgamesh, safely stored in the library," Roman confirms.
"Well done, Doctor. Your name's no mere flair," I praise.
"Got a candy for me?" Roman grins.
"No, how about a live-action Magi☆Mari bromide?" I tease.
"I don't want that! Stop hiding deadly blades in rewards!" he protests.
"Haha, indulge in your subculture if you must, but public displays narrow your standing. Know how the world sees you," I chide.
"Leave me alone! I don't need AUO jokes from you!" Roman retorts.
"I mind others' gazes—unpermitted stares meet judgment," I say.
"Quit scattering death flags! It's a nuisance to civilians!" he snaps.
"Haha. Farewell, and my thanks," I say, leaving with the book, my steps light.
This vessel's oddly at ease with Roman, who's equally casual, like workplace buddies. No pretense.
Roman's kind, his gentle, fluffy demeanor disarming at first glance. Yet, something whispers, "He's trouble, though I don't know why." What's off? I can't tell.
No matter. I'll address it later. Denying Roman's efforts since returning to Chaldea would be rude.
The priority is this: the vessel—the King of Heroes, Gilgamesh—and his saga, the Epic of Gilgamesh, the oldest heroic tale, the archetype of all epics.
Is this king the origin? His claim to own all things is astounding—and factual, not exaggerated.
Yet, I, lodged within, know little of him beyond his extraordinary Servant nature and combat style (hurling treasures was unthinkable).
Ignorance isn't a sin. Wallowing in it is. Following the vessel's guidance, I'll learn about this hero.
We're bound together. Sullying his legacy with my failings is unbearable. Though, this king losing is nearly unthinkable—what could even delay him?
Proclaiming respect yet knowing no tales would be hollow. Reverence needs substance.
And simply, I'm curious about the vibrant life this hero led.
I head to the library's spacious hall, the vessel naturally choosing the central table. Legs propped up, one hand flipping the thick epic—dexterous, but terrible posture. Sorry, Chaldea.
Let's dive in. What was the King of Heroes' life like…?
…
…
…
Sleepy.
No, incredibly sleepy. Insanely so. Eyelids like lead, fingers sluggish, yawns unstoppable. I'd turn this book into an eye mask or pillow and nap.
What's wrong, King of Heroes!? Didn't you scold Roman for sloth? Isn't this your story? Shouldn't you revel in it?
Honestly, I want to keep reading. Pages turn effortlessly; there's no dull moment. A king born of god and man, nearly divine, invincible. Cherished by his people, loving them in return. Yet, as an adult, he became a tyrant—oppressive, merciless, claiming every maiden in Uruk.
Desperate gods molded clay into Enkidu, their masterpiece. A wild beast tamed by a sacred courtesan over six days and seven nights, gaining wisdom and power to rival Gilgamesh. Their clash shook Uruk, a storm of days and nights, ending as supreme friends.
Vivid scenes, thrilling adventures, battles with the forest fiend Humbaba—I want to read more.
But my body feels crushing boredom, overwhelming lethargy. My eyelids droop; a moment's lapse could knock me out.
"If only a better writer penned this…" the king yawns, on the verge of sleep.
Wait, King of Heroes! I want to read your story! Let's nap later—just hold on!
"Let's sleep. I'm out. Wake me if needed…" he murmurs.
Could it be… this boredom, this annoyance…
Is he bored of his own story?
The realization hits as his crimson eyes close.
I wanted to read more…!
"The gods didn't create me to favor humans. They wanted a ruler to join their side, a wedge between man and god, crafted to ultimately serve them."
A voice speaks, as if to no one.
"Gods are mere phenomena, natural forces deified. Humans, though lacking supreme beings, are numerous, with countless personalities shaping their world. God or mortal, responses are similar—eliminate threats, revel in joy. The gods feared human potential, that they'd render gods obsolete. So they made me. But they only shaped my body. My soul is mine alone."
"I defied their will, living as I chose, sparking the divide between god and man. I respect them but demand their end. By creating me, they lost their place in the world."
"This king was their wedge, but my soul's will was too strong. I became the spearhead that ended the age of gods."
Is this… the King of Heroes' origin?
Who was he speaking to…?
"King of Heroes? King of Heroes?" a voice calls.
I open my eyes. A dream?
"Mash? How long was I out?" I ask.
"About an hour. The Director's developed a Mystic Code, and Master's called you to the simulation room to test it," Mash replies.
"Ugh… no more unfamiliar reading," I groan.
"Reading your own epic?" Mash asks.
"Yes. Mash, read it with Master," I say, handing her the book.
"The Epic of Gilgamesh… this?" she confirms.
"It won't bore you—unlike me. I skimmed it on a whim, but it's dull for the one who lived it…" I yawn, leaving the library.
"…The King of Heroes… reads books…" Mash muses, feeling a touch closer.
The Epic of Gilgamesh omitting AUO Cast-Off? Utter drivel. Burn it, fools.