Seven thousand years prior, the arrival of the 'Wandering Star of Predation' from beyond the stars had grievously wounded the foundation of the gods' existence within the mortal plane, initiating the slow, inexorable decline of the Age of Gods. By this era, while the deities still resided in their lofty celestial realms, their ability to descend to the mortal world in their true, overwhelming forms had been severely curtailed.
However, a decline is not an end. The Age of Gods still persisted; its twilight had not yet given way to full night. Just as Ishtar could still manifest through a possessed vessel, other gods, even if they could not find suitable hosts or were limited to temporary inhabitations like Aruru, still possessed numerous methods to interfere with the affairs of mortals, drawing upon the power and resources they had accumulated over their long existences. The lingering 'eyes' they had left in the firmament were one such method. Now, the simultaneous unleashing of their ultimate divine beast and most terrifying demonic beast upon humanity was another, far more direct and devastating, tactic.
"A bunch of lowly cowards who only know how to scheme from the shadows!" Gilgamesh sneered coldly after processing Ishtar's clumsy 'tip-off.' "If you have any semblance of divine courage, descend and face this King in a fair duel!"
Ishtar: "..."
If we could do that, we would have already done so, you golden-haired fool! she thought, but wisely kept the retort to herself.
"So, as I was saying," she reiterated, her voice strained, "I'm merely here to deliver a warning... So why are you holding me captive!?"
Her gaze shifted from the smug Gilgamesh to Rowe and Enkidu, who were both dressed in simple, matching linen robes. Her attention settled primarily on Rowe.
The goddess tried to shift her position, but succeeded only in making the chains binding her jingle sharply. She was well and truly captured. Her entire body, from neck to toe, was cocooned in the shimmering, silver links of the Chains of Heaven, leaving not an inch of skin visible. Only her head was free, her long black hair disheveled from the struggle. She had come to deliver a warning—or, in her own official phrasing, to 'declare war'—but the moment she finished her grand proclamation, Enkidu had instantly ensnared her with the Chains and unceremoniously dragged her inside like a sack of grain.
If this had been Ishtar's true, divine main body, Enkidu, who had not yet fully mastered the power of the Chains of Heaven, would never have been able to restrain her so easily. But unfortunately, she was merely inhabiting a vessel, her power significantly diminished. She could only submit to the indignity of being hauled indoors. It was utterly humiliating.
Ah ah ah ah—if I'd known this would happen, I never would have come! she wailed internally. No good deed goes unpunished!
"En-chan, let her go," Rowe said, glancing at the Divine Construct beside him. "She doesn't mean us any real harm." He then turned his attention back to the bound goddess. "You agree, don't you, Ishtar Rin?"
"Speaking of which, this King found it peculiar before," Gilgamesh interjected simultaneously, his serpent-like crimson eyes scanning the captured goddess from head to toe before breaking into a wide, mocking grin. "So you, this vessel, are being dominated by the humanity of the one you possessed! Hmph hahaha... Is this what a goddess has been reduced to? Truly a laughable sight for this King!"
Ishtar's face flushed a brilliant crimson, but she found she had no ground from which to retort.
"However," Gilgamesh added, his tone shifting slightly as he paused, "you do look far more pleasing to the eye in this conflicted state than that insufferably arrogant goddess you usually are!"
Clatter...
On the other side, having heard Rowe's instruction, Enkidu obediently retracted the Chains of Heaven. The silver links dissolved into motes of light, freeing the Venus Goddess. Ishtar stumbled forward, the hem of her modest crimson coat pooling around her on the floor as her bent legs stretched out, wriggling slightly to restore circulation.
She took a deep, steadying breath and raised her head, her crimson eyes meeting a pair of calm, emerald-green ones before she could even fully sigh in relief.
"There is a disagreeable scent about you," Enkidu stated flatly, a faint, unnerving smile gracing her lips as she sat primly beside Rowe.
Ishtar instinctively flinched. She's a bit scary...
"But there is also another scent, one that is not so disagreeable," Enkidu continued, her gaze unwavering. "If that scent were to always dominate... I would not lay a hand on you."
The words were likely intended as a form of reassurance, but they somehow made Ishtar feel even more uneasy. To openly state one's assessments and intimidate what one dislikes was the straightforward, unfiltered way of the divine clay doll known as Enkidu.
"Now then," Rowe said, breaking the tense atmosphere that had put Ishtar on edge, "perhaps you can explain clearly, Mistress of Heaven. What, precisely, did you mean by your declaration?"
"Literally what I said!" Ishtar snapped, finally finding her voice again. She looked at Rowe, then at En-chan, then at Gilgamesh, and as if suddenly remembering her original purpose, she shook her head vigorously. "No—wait! I was clearly just here to declare war! Why should I be telling you all of this?!"
As she spoke, she shot a particularly venomous glare at Rowe. I even changed into clothes similar to Ereshkigal's to seem more dignified and appealing, and not only was this guy unmoved, he let the Chains of Heaven tie me up! It's utterly infuriating!
Clang, clang, clang...
The next moment, the distinct sound of clinking metal filled the room. Gold coins, freshly summoned from a shimmering golden ripple, scattered across the floor around the seated goddess. Rowe retracted his hand from the Gate of Babylon and looked calmly at the scattered treasure. "How about now?" he asked. "Can you speak more clearly?"
His reasoning was sound. If his memory of the 'Type-Moon' lore served him correctly, the base personality of Ishtar's vessel, 'Tohsaka Rin,' was notoriously and endearingly avaricious. It appeared that influence had firmly imprinted itself upon the goddess's current consciousness.
The reaction was instantaneous. Ishtar's eyes widened, her pupils dilating slightly, and her hands twitched, moving almost of their own volition to scoop the glittering gold coins into the protective circle of her arms.
However, upon noticing Rowe's utterly predictable 'just as I thought' expression, the Venus Goddess's vessel flushed with a mixture of embarrassment and indignation. She forced herself into a more dignified sitting position, clutching a few of the closer coins defensively.
"Ahem... Don't misunderstand!" she declared, her voice attempting haughtiness but landing closer to a flustered squeak. "This goddess would never be swayed by your paltry, mortal material offerings! This... this is merely the goddess's boundless mercy at work! I simply do not wish to see you all perish in ignorance, without understanding the divine reason for your imminent demise!"
Finally, having somewhat salvaged her pride, Ishtar looked at the three formidable beings in front of her—the King, the Key, and the Chains—and continued with a more serious tone.
"You have, on multiple occasions now, committed acts of blatant defiance against the gods, haven't you? Your collective insolence has reached a tipping point. Now, the pantheon, at the strong suggestion of my main self in the heavens, has decided to enact punishment... No, to be precise, they intend to punish all of Uruk for harboring you."
"So," Rowe interjected, his eyes lighting up with a spark she couldn't quite decipher, "they dispatched the ultimate Divine Beast and the ultimate Demonic Beast to attack simultaneously?"
"Yes." Ishtar looked at Rowe, who had cut her off, and nodded, a flicker of surprise crossing her features. Why did this guy seem... excited? There was a distinct lack of fear in his eyes, replaced by something that looked suspiciously like anticipation.
How could Rowe not be excited! In the original Epic of Gilgamesh, both Humbaba, the Guardian of the Cedar Forest, and Gugalanna, the Bull of Heaven, were cataclysmic enemies that Gilgamesh and Enkidu only managed to defeat through a combination of supreme effort, clever strategy, and no small amount of luck. The Bull of Heaven alone had brought devastating drought and storms upon Uruk. Furthermore, before being given form by Aruru, the raw clay of Enkidu had resided with Humbaba, and many of the Divine Construct's primal combat instincts were honed against the demonic beast. They were existential threats.
Now, due to the massive 'butterfly effect' he had caused, these two legendary calamities were appearing together. For any sane person, this was an absolute, unprecedented crisis that threatened to wipe Uruk from the map.
But for Rowe—this was the perfect storm he had been waiting for! In the face of such overwhelming force, even giving his all in battle would almost certainly result in a glorious, epic death, right!?
Of course, he couldn't reveal the true reason for his excitement. He quickly schooled his features, taking a deep breath and deliberately feigning a mask of grave concern. "It seems the gods are truly determined to eliminate us..." he murmured, his voice laced with well-practiced worry.
No matter one's perspective, the simultaneous assault of Mesopotamia's two most powerful mythical beasts heralded a catastrophe. They were forces of nature; in terms of pure, raw combat power, few among the gods themselves could rival them. Let alone now, in their not-yet-fully-realized states. Even later, at the peak of their power, Gilgamesh and Enkidu could only hope to contend with one such foe at a time.
"Anu's decree is thus," Ishtar continued, now fully embracing her role as an inadvertent double agent. "Of the three—the Chains of Heaven, the Wedge of Heaven, and the Key of Heaven—only two may remain."
The previous incident, where their united power had shaken the boundaries of the Three Realms, had been a terrifying wake-up call for the pantheon. The combined potential of the trio posed too great a threat. The divine calculus was simple: reduce their number.
"Then I shall go to meet the gods..." Rowe began, seizing the opportunity.
Rather than endless discussion, I should actively seek my end. To sacrifice myself, to preserve the legends of Gilgamesh and Enkidu—to be written into the epic as a tragic, self-sacrificing hero... This was the narrative he eagerly desired.
But before he could finish his noble, self-sacrificial statement, Gilgamesh cut him off with a derisive snort. "...A bunch of cowardly scoundrels, do they even deserve to point fingers and dictate terms in this King's own courtyard?!" the King roared, slamming a fist on the table. "Go back and tell those so-called gods to wash their necks and wait patiently for this King's judgment!"
Gilgamesh waved a large, dismissive hand, as if swatting away the entire pantheon. "We three, sooner or later, will drag every last one of those arrogant deities down from their gilded thrones and into the mud of the mortal realm!"
Although... that's a very inspiring sentiment...
Can you let me finish my heroic death speech?!
Seeing Gilgamesh cut him off with a single, boisterous declaration, Rowe felt a profound wave of helplessness wash over him. However, as he looked at Ishtar's utterly astonished face, and then met Enkidu's fiercely resolute gaze from beside him—a look that promised unwavering solidarity—his frustration melted away. He paused, and then a genuine, accepting smile touched his lips.
Never mind. This is fine too.
Anyway, when a full-scale war breaks out, finding a way to die gloriously definitely won't be difficult!
And so—
Let it be!
Rowe lifted his head, his gaze seeming to pass through Ishtar and the ceiling of the house, aiming directly at the distant, observing gods in the heavens.
"Those who wish for death, come forth!" His voice, clear and resonant, echoed through the room, a defiant challenge that seemed to pierce the very sky, carrying with it a final, silent whisper that only he could hear...
Please, don't you dare go easy on me.