"Seven days… God made the world in only seven days!"
Gilgamesh stared up at the sky, stunned. Then he laughed—wild, broken laughter—until tears streamed down his face.
Crack.
Something deep inside him fractured.
In the final moments of his life, all his pride—all his delusions of grandeur—crumbled into dust.
"Seven days…"
His laughter quieted. His vision blurred.
And in that fading darkness, he remembered the first time he had stood on that enormous palm, so many years ago, and asked:
"What is civilization?"
—
"Civilization is fire. Civilization is knowledge. Civilization is order.
Civilization is the greatest weapon an intelligent species can possess."
—
"Civilization is a force we can use to protect ourselves?"
—
Hahahaha…!
His dying laugh echoed across the world—across the wind-blown hills, the forests swaying in silence, the rivers rushing by. It passed over fields of grain and rolled across the steppes.
From the distant tribes to the heart of the royal city, people lifted their heads.
They felt it—not the sound, but the weight of it.
The final breath of their king.
And so, across the Sumerian lands, a nameless song began. A slow, mournful melody carried by grieving voices. On that day, the Hero King Gilgamesh passed from the world.
—
Ethan watched in silence.
"I never wanted to fight you," he said softly. "I answered your questions honestly. I never claimed to have the secret to eternal life. Why couldn't you believe me?"
The people of Uruk wept.
"The king is dead!"
"Our king—Gilgamesh, the Hero King—challenged the Creator and fell!"
"We've lost everything!"
Ethan did not pursue the fleeing soldiers. Where would they even go?
To the edge of the world?
—
Up on the wall of Uruk, the court historian Akkad stared in disbelief, cold sweat running down his back.
He had witnessed the truth with his own eyes.
He gripped his pen, trembling, and began to write.
A new chapter in the Epic of Genesis.
> [The Great Beast of Wisdom was not merely a beast, but the Creator.
In his arrogance, Gilgamesh raised his sword against Him.
And so, the Creator saw the wickedness of man and declared that a great flood
would wash away the sins of the world.]
The wailing spread.
People screamed. Prayed. Collapsed in the streets. Women tore their hair, men pounded the ground.
"The Creator says this world is filled with sin!"
"Repent! Repent and beg for mercy!"
"The flood is coming!"
Madness and fear ruled the city.
Then, a young man in a black turban approached Ethan, kneeling at the base of his towering feet. He placed a bloodied package on the ground and opened it.
Inside lay a severed head.
"Great One," he said, bowing low, "this is the head of Enkidu, King of the Forest. He refused to follow Gilgamesh's decree. He chose death rather than raise his sword against the one who gave us civilization. We are not all savages. I beg you—please, show mercy. Let some of our people live."
Ethan paused.
So Enkidu had stayed away. That explained his absence during the battle.
He sighed. "Gilgamesh went too far." His voice was calm but heavy.
"I never planned to destroy your people. But their violence, their arrogance… a price had to be paid."
He looked down at Utnapishtim.
"You may cut down the Divine Tree. Use its wood to build an ark. Fill it with seeds, animals, and your people. When the ark is ready, I will bring the flood."
And with that, he turned and walked away.
—
The survivors bowed low, overwhelmed.
"We were defeated… but we still have a future."
"The Creator has shown us mercy."
"It's thanks to Enkidu! The King of the Forest gave his life to show we are not all lost."
"Praise Enkidu!"
"Praise the King of the Forest!"
Akkad wept, looking up at the giant's departing silhouette. Then he lifted his pen again.
> [The mercy of Enkidu moved the Creator.
Though the flood would come, He spared a remnant.
He commanded Utnapishtim to build an ark
to carry forward the flame of civilization.]
—
Back in his courtyard, Ethan put down the fruit he had been peeling.
He picked up the high-pressure water gun he'd bought with Chen Xi—an ordinary farm tool, now repurposed for divine punishment.
Ten minutes passed.
In that time, 120 days flew by in the sandbox. The Sumerians moved quickly. They felled the Divine Tree, crafted the ark, and loaded it with plants, animals, and scrolls containing the written records of their civilization.
Everything was ready.
"Time to clean up."
Ethan lifted the water gun.
—
Water thundered down.
Forests fell. Cities crumbled like sandcastles. Animals scattered in every direction, only to be caught in the flood. The world vanished under white frothing currents.
Heaven and earth were wiped clean.
Inside the ark, Utnapishtim and the others clung to one another, watching in stunned silence. The clouds had split open. A white cascade poured down in endless sheets.
It was no longer rain. It was judgment.
The world was gone.
Only the ark remained.
A single vessel floating in a sea without end.