The scent of incense, exotic plants, delicious foods and beverages clung to the heavy air of the ziggurat, it was a level of extravagance and richness like no others surrounded by treasures, women and power, but it could not mask the rot in the king's heart.
The times had changed along with his heart. The king who once ruled as the young, kind and wise ruler abruptly came to an end. He drowned himself in any sort of pleasure even at the cost of oppressing the people that stood below him.
But they endured without complaint, they believed the old king would return.
In turn he crushed them even more. He took their daughters on their wedding nights before their husbands, made them work like slaves, made a spectacle out of some people for his own amusement by tying them to a tree and throwing stones until they nearly died and stripped them of their riches so they wouldn't have anything left to buy their food after they made their offerings to the gods.
The people suffered from the pain and fatigue.
The husbands despaired out of grief.
The old were crushed under the pressure on their old bodies.
The young were the only ones spared from this disaster but they cried before going to sleep fearing the day when it would be their turn.
But they still waited and endured while hoping that the boy who once walked among them, the one who ruled with a smile, the one who shared his immense wisdom with everyone, was still there and would come back for them.
'How disgusting.' The king only saw the people's last hope as a filth that revolted him to his core.
Their attitude only sickened him further.
They praised him back then, when he was kind and just.
And they praised him now, when he was cruel and tyrannical.
It didn't matter what face he wore, because as long as they had a king, they would lie to themselves. They wanted gods to believe in, and when the gods turned monstrous, they bowed anyway while hoping for salvation.
Truly, they are nothing more than Mongrels.
No other words could better fit them other than that.
Because they were incapable of truth, not to him, not to themselves. All they could manage was living a life mixed in submission and their delusions.
Humans already have to struggle every single moment to survive and live on but they readily let themselves be trampled by the beliefs derived from gods uncaring of them, who only saw them as worms, or maybe, livestock would be a more appropriate term now.
After all, like humans raised cows and pigs with the intent to one day feed on the, the gods raised humans with the intent to feed on their faith.
And now he simply reflected the gods they so desperately clung to.
He became the god they expected from him.
So he let them suffer
'After all, If it's a god they wish from me…'
So he turned them in his instrument of pleasure
'...I'll become their god, their last god.'
So he no longer cared about being heard.
'And when I'm done severing any ties men have with the divine, I'll be reborn as the first true man to lead you mongrels to a day where you will no longer bow your heads.'
Years went by as the boy grew into a young man in his teenage years and the atrocities he inflicted on others, the scorn he directed towards the gods and the pleasures he savored grew with each passing day, almost like it would devour everything around him.
Today as well a marriage was held in the city of Uruk and like usual the king was making his way to the wedding chamber to sleep with the wife before her husband.
That is the natural course of events that is bound to happen. It's destined to never change and be the same as every other night.
But tonight something "unusual" happened.
A man, no, not a man, but a thing blocked his way to the wedding chamber.
The thing's appearance was beautiful, it looked somewhat androgynous but the shape was more reminiscent of a female, with green hair and eyes and a perfect face that might charm any person just by looking at it. That thing's resemblance to that whore they called the divine prostitute was striking.
The thing looked like a person and held itself like one…. it could even speak.
"You must be king Gilg–"
"Silence! I do not recall granting you the permission to open your mouth. Now get out of the way."
The thing tried communicating with the king but he was uninterested in what it had to say. He did not care about the voices of his own subjects, why would he ever listen to a doll that was not even human.
The king stepped forward without hesitation looking at the thing in disdain, but the thing didn't move away, it stood still on his way without blinking as its gaze locked on him.
In the end he found himself standing in front of the thing face to face, a mere breath away from each other as they confronted each other silently for a second.
"You dare disobey?" The king snorted in mockery at it, as if laughing at the absurdity of its action.
"I was sent by gods to–"
"Yes, I can see that. So do you dare to disobey me? Do not make me repeat it, mud of clay."
The king interrupted the thing once again and repeated his question. He could already think of why he was here even without thinking, it was obvious why he was here, even more so for him whose perspective surpassed the gods' themselves and that was even without truly opening his eyes.
"..." The thing didn't immediately reply as it seemed to consider the words the king spoke before giving an answer. "Yes, I guess you could say that, I dare to defy your orders, Tyrant of Uruk, and bring upon you the punishment of the gods to make you realise your mistakes."
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" The king burst into laughter, it seemed like tonight he would have to teach it a lesson coming back to his previous plans.
"Then let's see to it, shall we?" Without wasting a second his hand grabbed its throat and threw him to the side of the wall.
The king might have been but a budding youngling but his body was of the highest possible standard imaginable and unimaginable for mortals. Adult human males could crush rocks with their bare hands with moderate efforts, but he could do so with his pinky finger. And not just strength but even speed, dexterity, resistance, endurance and intellect, even as a child he could outclass them in all aspects.
CRASH
So it was but a matter of course that he could easily pin this mere doll against a wall. And yet–
"..."
–the thing dared to continue to stare back into his eyes, without breaking eye contact, those eyes truly irritated him.
"How dare you look at me as if you were alive." The king found his stare extremely revolting and more he looked at it the angrier he became.
"I told you… I bring forth the punishment of the gods." The thing even dared to talk back and not only that. "So if you are unwilling to listen to words of reprimand then you shall face your demise."
The thing dared to fight back.
CRACK
And for the first time in his life, the king's strength was outmatched. He was sent flying with a kick to his guts under the astonished gaze of the servants in the building as he crashed through the wall on the other side.
BOOM
The wall gave in as he broke through. Now outside the building the king landed on the soil in the streets clutching his stomach in pain. '...What!?'
"How?..." The king couldn't comprehend it, he was sure the clay doll was weaker than him when he looked at it briefly, how could it do something like this so suddenly?
As he continued interrogating himself for a few seconds out of incredulity the thing walked out of the building, its pace nearly as slow as a turtle but its steps were as heavy as an elephant.
"So, are you willing to listen to me now?" The thing asked with a serious expression on its face. A disgusting imitation made from copying the act.
"What did you just say?"
"I asked if you are willing to listen to me now?"
"..." The king was speechless, he could feel his body burn from the "anger" rising inside of him.
How dare it, how dare it, howdareithowdareithowdareithowdareithowdareithowdareit.
"HOW DARE YOU, YOU DAMNED CLOD OF MUD, HOW DARE YOU!!! I WILL DISMEMBER YOU!!"
The king darted like a beast to the mud doll, it tried to block the attack but it was too slow.
CRACK
The thing's jaw snapped from the punch. Its clay body skidded along soil flying away from the building.
The king, with eyes full of "anger" and "hate", ran to its pursuit without stopping, he wasn't intending to stop until he destroyed this damned doll with his own hands.
He leapt forward, fist raised for a follow up strike but the damned thing caught it while its broken jaw snapped back by itself to its original shape before sprinting forward and tackle him with its shoulder on his belly.
The doll had somehow gotten faster and sturdier, it used his moment of surprise to grab his arm with both hands and throw him on the ground.
The king tried retaliating with a kick but it had no effect on the puppet as it mounted on top of him raining blow after blow on his body, fortunately though they lacked the previous strength that crushed his guts before.
THWAACKK BAAM THWAACKK CRUNCH
However the speed and number of blows was starting to hurt severely either way.
'Ah, I see it now. This thing was indeed weaker than me when I looked at it before but it then sacrificed some of its other physical capabilities to increase its strength.'
The thing readied its fist once again, but it wasn't like before at all. 'It gave up its physical endurance and magical energy for more strength… if it hits me I will… die.'
For the first time in his life the king felt that if he continued to fight like he had before he would end up dead. In this moment where time seemed to stretch infinitely he realized that the thing standing in front of him is something he could not afford to take lightly but what could he do now to stop it?
His right hand is tied by its left hand, his left by its right foot, his right leg is blocked by its left as well and only his left leg is free but he couldn't do anything with it from this position. The strike would arrive in a mere two seconds.
One second had already passed.
The king had no other choice and unconsciously "opened" his eyes for real. The one remaining second before the strike arrived stretched, this time literally, in macrounits as his mind processed the possible futures in the infinitely expanding possibilities.
A quarter of a second passed.
He looked at every possible action he could have accomplished with his body but it was already too late to use his body to escape from him.
A fifth of a second passed.
He looked into every possible action from expelling magical energy to its maximum to try to slow down the blow. But the result is that he will just repeat the attack until he exhausted his energy, which wouldn't take long as the thing actively suppressed his divinity heavily during physical contact.
A sixth of a second passed.
He looked into every possible way to push it away from him using his capabilities but he had none as it already anchored its body to restrain him.
A seventh of a second passed.
He now had less than a quarter of a second left… and realized he lacked the ability to stop the blow with his abilities.
He could only see two possible outcomes.
The first was a forced act of humiliation.
The second was an act of submission and humiliation.
Among the two the choice was obvious.
If the second was imploring for mercy and surrendering, it meant he could never choose such an outcome even at the cost of his life. How could he ever live on after submitting himself and humiliating his persona.
So instead he chose to just humiliate himself.
THUNG
And stopped the thing's blow using one of his precious treasures as a shield.
An unthinkable act for him, that's why it was a forced humiliation.But it would also come to mark the beginning of the great noble phantasm called Gate of Babylon as a weapon.
***
Hello, I hope you enjoyed the chapter.
The fight will continue next week, bye.