Digimon Sha Nagba Imuru

Aarik

Well-Known Member
#51
ôYou too are bound by the Tablet and you would share the same fate as any of use would.ö

use should be us
 

Ryuugi

Well-Known Member
#53
Gilgamesh attacks immediately, for it is as if the weight of the world has laid itself upon his shoulders and the only way to ease its burden was to obey.

He is all but feral in those first moments of battle. He abandons thought and strategy and reason and throws himself into the madness of rage.

He does not know his own power, only that it must come. It must find him, in his moment of need. There is no alternative but death and defeat.

GilgameshÆs thoughts are a chaos of animalistic desires and hatred and he only has one thought; to kill Enlil.

But then Enlil reaches out to him with a hand and the world inverts.

Gilgamesh returns to reason only to find himself pinned to the floor, an arm twisted behind his back. Enlil has grabbed a hold of his hair and forced his face to the floor.

The God chuckles as he leans his weight upon him.

Gilgamesh gives forth a strangled cry as he kicks at the floor trying to shunt his opponent from his back to no avail.

He calls out to his power.

He has none.

Enlil mad chuckles wind slowly to an end.

ôThat wasnÆt a fair fight,ö He said in blatant mockery. ôYou werenÆt ready. Come on; letÆs try this again.ö

He pushes roughly down on Gilgamesh as he rises to his feet. The King of Heroes follows him, lifting himself to his feet a moment later.

He meets EnlilÆs eyes and tries to move.

Enlil becomes truth and ideal once more.

Gilgamesh came back to himself on the floor once more.

ItÆs still there when he does.

ItÆs waiting for him, a truth carved into the fabric of the world.

Enlil wins.

He revisits the knowledge at his disposal. He attempts to plan strategy. He acts with randomness, attempting to surprise.

It is futile.

Each time, he is defeated the same way. He does not know how. All he remembers is falling over and blood leaking from his flesh.

If he rises again, it will only be to fall.

Even so, the King tries to stand.

He manages to get a hand to twitch.

It continues once, twice, three times, but then EnlilÆs truth reveals the wrongness of it, the disgusting nature of the act, that pointlessness of it, and GilgameshÆs hand stops twitching in defiance or even potential defiance.

He releases a mumbling, unintelligible sound, but then his mouth closes.

He tries to scream in rage and fear and defiance.

He canÆt.

Under the weight of the truth of Enlil, the web of lies that was GilgameshÆs existence, defiance, and independent being in the world was crushed and smeared and quickly began to dissolve into nothing.

And he is crushed and made nothing with it.

His body is hot and he is sweating and gasping and in pain on the floor, but it seems so very far away.

Something in his mind fight, to save himself, to save those that rely on him, to save all those that will suffer under the reign of this mad God.

But it does not reach the surface.

It is a feeble, shriveled, pathetic little thing, burnt so badly by the light of true power.

He is a piece of paper caught in a fire.

Everything he is has started to burn and crumble to ash.

A part of him searches for something that will allow him to fightùJustice, perhaps. Or Righteousness. The Goodness of the World.

But he cannot find those things.

Only Defeat.

He is completely and utterly defeated.

And now he is nothing.

Not even Gilgamesh.

EnlilÆs hand in his hair, pulling his head back painfully.

ôItÆs alright,ö He says.

It shouldnÆt have made things even close to being alright, but Enlil made it so.

ôIt was Ninlil who sent you too me, wasnÆt it?ö Enlil asked, though he didnÆt seem to expect an answer.

I have lost.

Gilgamesh wanted to deny it, but he had to admit that heÆd thoroughly lost.

Even so, for the sake of Ninlil and her children, he tried againù

ôYou mustnÆt do that.ö

His will broke again.

ôYou are a pathetic, foolish little boy, Gilgamesh of Uruk. But do not worry; I will make you into something better and you will serve me for all time.ö

That wasnÆt right, a part of him cried.

ôServe you?ö He asked, distantly surprised that he could talk. ôBut arenÆt I supposed to be your enemy?ö

He wasnÆt sure anymore.

Enlil looked amused.

ôYouÆre too useful to be an enemy.ö

He pushed his face harshly to the floor and Gilgamesh felt something both hot and cold sink into his mind.
 

Ryuugi

Well-Known Member
#54
It was over.

The King could no longer deny or resist that fact.

He tried to rage against it, just within his heart; to hold on to the pain of defeat, if nothing elseùone silent declaration of rebellion, but he could not hide such a thing from Enlil, king of the Gods.

ôItÆs okay.ö Enlil said. ôBe at peace; to serve me is an honor the likes of which you have never seen.ö

At his words, the hate and the pain almost died. The rebellion almost withered away.

Almost.

A miracle sweeps across him like a storm, and he falls to his knees. For a moment, he can see nothing else; apprehend nothing else; think of nothing else. He can only feel the winds of change wash through his soul.

He didnÆt understandùcouldnÆt understand what had just happened to him or what sort of mark it had left upon him.

But in the wake of that moment, the details didnÆt matter to him.

If heÆd been deaf before, now he could hear.

And what he heard was a simple thingùand yet, glorious in its simplicity.

It was a song.

From the skies rained down the song of Heaven.

The angels sang a song of beauty, justice, and respect.

Their song has no answer to a Mad God, but it desired none.

æYou must be strong enough to overcome this and find your own path,Æ It said. æFor if you cannot find an answer to evil, what worth have you, OÆ King of Heroes?ö

ôYou cannot resist my power, King of Uruk. No one can.ö Said Enlil, who heard nothing.

And before, Gilgamesh would have believed him.

But a thought came to him, in that moment, and for an instant, he almost mistook it for his own.

Lies. It told him, in the voice of one King speaking to another.

And that, Gilgamesh thought, rang with truth.

GilgameshÆs eyes hardened along with his regained resolve.

The voice continued speaking.

The power of an enemy has no bearing on whether he can be resisted.

ôI can make you anything I want you to be.ö

No; he can force you to do what he wants, but he canÆt make you want to do it. Not anymore.

Enlil let go off his head, apparently satisfied that his work was complete.

ôKneel, King of Uruk.ö

Stand, King of Heroes.

The King lifted his eyes and met the GodÆs again.

ôYou are a hero, arenÆt you? Thenàyour God has a mission for you. In this land, there is a foul, evil woman, who wishes to overthrow God. Go then, Gilgamesh; drag her children before her and slay them one by one! Let her see the fate of those who wish to harm God!ö

This time, the voice had nothing to say.

It had no need to.

A righteous fury filled the heart of the King.

He placed a hand on the ground to lift himself up, but it came down upon something smooth and cold and not at all like the stone of the throne roomÆs floor.

There was a length of chain as wide as a grown manÆs arm beneath his hand.

ôLet Enkidu die, but spare Gilgamesh his life.ö Said Enlil.

His fingers slowly curled around all that was left of his friends.

It still hurt. It would always hurt. The way Enkidu had died.

But, he could not help but think as he rose to his feet, that perhaps, it had not been so very long at all, this time they had been apart.

ôW-what are you doing!?ö Enlil demanded.

Gilgamesh looked at him and didnÆt say a word.

The chain in his hands began to writhe, like a snake, growing longer and longer. The sound of metal hitting stone filled the room as dozens, hundreds, and then even thousands of chain links hit and slithered along the ground.

ôStop!ö Enlil ordered, with all the authority of the owner of the Tablet of Destinies.

Gilgamesh ignored him.
 
Top