"Who is the Goddess of the Underworld? And who is this Venus Goddess you speak of?"
Inside the simple yet comfortable courtyard house adjacent to Uruk's royal palace, the morning sun streamed through the window, illuminating the dust motes dancing in the air like tiny, floating embers. Enkidu, seated beside Rowe, fixed her luminous emerald eyes on him. "Rowe, have you been keeping secrets from me? Have you gone off to fight with a god without me?"
The clear, bell-like voice of the girl-shaped Divine Construct echoed in the quiet room. Her exquisitely delicate face was tilted up towards his, her cheeks puffed out in an expression of pure, unadulterated dissatisfaction.
Although, wait a moment...
Why can you, a weapon created by the gods, say something like 'fighting with a god' with such righteous indignation? Rowe felt a momentary mental choke.
Of course, he understood the reason. Because the first person Enkidu had encountered upon gaining consciousness wasn't a god-fearing temple maiden but him, Rowe, she had developed no inherent reverence for her creators. To her, the gods were merely entities that existed, no different from passersby on the street. And since Rowe had already openly declared his opposition to them, in Enkidu's straightforward worldview, the gods were simply enemies. It was a binary, uncomplicated logic—the thought process of a being not yet mired in the complexities of the world.
"It's nothing major," Rowe replied, choosing his words with care. "I just met some… new… acquaintances." The pause was slight, but telling.
There was no real reason to hide it. No matter what, En-chan was his charge, 'raised' by his own hand, and their bond was more akin to siblings. Her questioning stemmed from concern for his safety, nothing more.
Unfortunately, upon hearing Rowe's carefully phrased response, Gilgamesh, lounging on the other side of the room, immediately seized the opportunity to sabotage him. "Hmph hahaha…! New acquaintances? Then your relationship with these 'acquaintances' must be exceptionally intimate!"
He leaned forward, his crimson eyes glinting with malicious amusement. "So intimate that your faces were pressed together!" Although his Sha Naqba Imuru could only provide hazy glimpses of the past through the lens of 'future' possibilities, the vision of two blurry figures in close proximity was clear enough for his purposes.
"Since when does a King resort to being a peeping tom?" A faint vein throbbed on Rowe's forehead, his irritation rising.
"Peeping? Hmph!" Gilgamesh retorted, waving a dismissive hand. "This King is the Lord of All Phenomena upon this earth! The entire world is merely this King's personal courtyard! Does a king require permission from the mice in his walls to inspect his own property?"
Rowe, however, had a ready counter that instantly wiped the smug look from the King's face. "Is that the same logic you used when you, without any discernment, declared you would claim the right of the first night for every marriage in Uruk?"
This was not a fabrication, but a historical fact. In the turbulent period just after Gilgamesh had come of age, as he transitioned from a god-fearing youth to a rebellious prince who realized the deities were manipulating him, he had rapidly degenerated from a wise heir into a notorious tyrant. One of his first edicts had been to proclaim this very 'right of the first night.'
In reality, he was stopped before he could enact it, not by external force, but by his own sudden and horrifying realization. Uruk was a vast city-state with countless surrounding towns and villages, boasting a population of hundreds of thousands. Even considering only the young men and women of marrying age, the number reached the tens of thousands. Gilgamesh, for all his demi-god vitality, was still a being of flesh and blood. The sheer, logistical impossibility of the task—the catastrophic toll it would take on even his divinely-enhanced constitution—dawned on him with terrifying clarity. Within less than two days, the edict was quietly and unceremoniously retracted, buried by the King as one of his most profound embarrassments.
And now, Rowe was digging up this ancient, cringe-worthy history.
"Mongrel!" Gilgamesh finally snapped, his composure shattered, a flush of anger and shame rising to his cheeks.
"And who, precisely, is the mongrel here?" Rowe inquired innocently.
"The mongrel is you!"
"Ah, I see. Well then, hello there, Mr. Mongrel!" Seeing Gilgamesh instantly flustered and enraged, Rowe had to admit that while it was an old trick, it was eternally effective. Some tactics never failed to hit their mark.
"Hmph hahaha—!" Rowe laughed aloud, a genuine sound of triumph.
This mongrel… he even dares to imitate this King's triumphant laugh?! Gilgamesh's eyes widened in outrage.
Through all of this, En-chan, who had transitioned from interrogator to silent observer, watched Rowe, then Gilgamesh, and tilted her head in contemplation. A thoughtful expression settled on her exquisite face. This atmosphere, so full of bickering and noisy energy, was completely different from the quiet, solitary life she had known in the forest. It was a bit chaotic, a bit loud…
But perhaps… this wasn't so bad after all?
The slight resentment she had held towards Gilgamesh for his earlier aggression seemed to melt away in the face of this comical squabble. A gentle, almost imperceptible smile touched En-chan's lips. Her slender figure swayed slightly as she leaned more comfortably against Rowe's side, content to simply watch.
Outside the window, the sunlight seemed to grow brighter, filling the entire view. The weather was, by all accounts, perfect.
It was on that day the King and the Sage quarreled.
The Divine Construct listened quietly to the music of humanity.
The three Originals held their first true meeting on that radiant, sun-drenched morning.
Yet, the crisis followed closely on its heels.
—The Epic of Gilgamesh
BANG!
"What was that sound?"
The concussive thud from outside the door instantly severed the bickering inside. Both Rowe and Gilgamesh fell silent, their heads turning in unison toward the entrance. Enkidu, who had been leaning peacefully against Rowe, shot upright, her flowing green hair seeming to stir with a silent, defensive energy.
Their collective gaze fixed on the source of the commotion outside the door. A figure, having apparently taken a rather ungraceful landing from the sky, was quickly dusting herself off and getting to her feet.
Her fair, bare arms reflected the morning sun, but she was now clad in a long, formal red coat that covered most of her previously exposed form. The hem extended past her thighs, lending her an air of unexpected dignity and conservatism. Compared to her usual provocative attire, this style was far closer to the modest dress of her sister, the Goddess of the Underworld—a clear, if clumsy, attempt to appear more appealing to a certain someone's perceived tastes.
"Ishtar?"
Both Rowe and Gilgamesh uttered the name in simultaneous recognition. Beside them, Enkidu's gaze cooled noticeably, her body shifting into a subtly protective stance in front of Rowe.
The person who had made such a dramatic entrance was, without a doubt, the Venus Goddess, Ishtar, from whom Rowe had parted ways just hours before.
"Ahem, ahem, ahem…!" Ignoring the varied reactions of the trio inside the house, Ishtar quickly straightened her new coat and smoothed her hair. She strode purposefully to the doorway, crossed her arms, and stood with her back to the bright sun, casting a long shadow into the room.
"Hmph, hmph, hmph! Gilgamesh! Rowe! And you, the Divine Construct!" she declared, her voice a forced boom of authority. "I, in the name of the Mistress of Heaven, Ishtar, hereby declare war upon you all!"
She paused for dramatic effect. "My true self in the heavens has petitioned the Sky God, Anu himself! He will unleash the ultimate Divine Beast, the Bull of Heaven, and the most fearsome Demonic Beast, Humbaba, to bring divine punishment down upon you—sinners who dare to defy the gods!"
She pointed a dramatic finger at them. "Tremble in fear! Despair! This is but a warning, a formal declaration of war—it is absolutely, under no circumstances, a reminder!"
She finished with a huff, her cheeks slightly flushed. "Don't you dare misunderstand my intentions!"
Alright… so it was a reminder. Rowe understood perfectly. The Mistress of Heaven, thoroughly infected by the humanity of her vessel, had come to give them a heads-up. The method was awkward, tsundere to its core, but it fit the newly emergent 'Ishtar Rin' personality perfectly. If the pantheon was truly planning to unleash such cataclysmic forces upon Uruk, this part of her, influenced by Tohsaka Rin's essential morality, would find it impossible to stand by idly. Humans and gods were, after all, fundamentally different in their concerns.
...
Simultaneously, in the Heavens.
In a dimension layered above the human world, within a resplendent hall bathed in eternal, shining light, the gods convened.
"I believe everyone has heard the proposal from Goddess Ishtar!" The King of Gods, Anu, crowned and holding the scepter of celestial authority, sat at the head of the grand hall. His hawk-like eyes scanned the assembled deities on their respective thrones. "Since she is willing to cede control of the Bull of Heaven for this endeavor, then—"
He raised his scepter, his voice resonating with divine power that shook the very fabric of the chamber.
"I, Anu, the Sky God, hereby decree: We shall inflict the gravest punishment upon those who defy our will! I shall simultaneously unleash the ultimate Divine Beast, the Bull of Heaven, and the most terrifying Demonic Beast, Humbaba!"
His chant began to weave the edict into reality. "Gugalanna, the Bull of Heaven! Embodiment of the storm's vortex, symbol of devastating drought! You shall trample every inch of their land, leaving naught but ruin in your wake!"
"Humbaba, Guardian of the Cedar Forest! You are the coalesced resentment of the earth's countless silent souls, the very embodiment of death! You shall bring an eternal, chilling end to the mortals who have forgotten their place!"
As Anu's words echoed, two immense beams of light—one a blinding, furious white and the other a deep, consuming black—shot down from the heavenly realm, piercing the veil into the world of men. They landed with world-shaking force to the east and west of Uruk, simultaneously flanking the proud city-state with twin, apocalyptic threats.