Gilgamesh, who had been hidden from sight, finally revealed himself. He glanced at the still-beating heart in his hand, then at the Ancient One lying on the ground, her yellow robe torn open to expose a gaping, bloody wound. With a flick of his wrist, he tossed the heart aside like worthless refuse.
Odin was completely stunned by the scene before him. So this was what "going with the flow" meant?
What would I do if you died?
"My dear father," Gilgamesh said as he wiped the blood from his fingers, his crimson pupils gleaming with killing intent, "could you please hand over the Time Stone?"
"You… you intend to kill me as well?" The All-Father's voice trembled with fury. Despite everything, despite his actions, he had believed—no, convinced himself—that everything he did was for Gilgamesh's sake.
If Gilgamesh could hear that thought, he would have burst into laughter.
For my own good? Nonsense. Everything you've done has always been for the sake of the Nine Realms. So why act so high and mighty?
Thor and Loki stood frozen, horrified by what had just occurred. But no matter what had happened, they could not allow anyone to raise a hand against their father. The two princes immediately stepped in front of Odin, forming a defensive flank.
Seeing them, Gilgamesh's eyelid twitched. He had half a mind to pummel these two fools on the spot. "Rest assured, Father. Even I have no desire to carry the titles of patricide and fratricide. But…"
He paused, his voice dropping into a cold, absolute finality.
"From this moment onward, Asgard will no longer have a God of Light."
"No more… God of Light?" Thor and Loki exchanged shocked glances. Even Odin was taken aback, unable to grasp how events had spiraled this far.
But Gilgamesh gave no further explanation. In a single step, he closed the distance, snatched the bronze plaque from Odin's hands, crushed it effortlessly, and extracted the Time Stone from within.
He cast one last look at the three of them—eyes filled with bottomless disappointment—before his form dissolved into drifting golden fragments of light.
Asgard Palace — Temple of Light
The golden shards gathered in the grand hall, slowly knitting themselves back into Gilgamesh's form. Gazing at the place he had lived for thousands of years, he let out a long, bitter sigh.
A golden nest, a silver nest—none compare to my own doghouse. And now even my doghouse is gone…
He scanned the hall, committing every corner to memory, before disappearing into Frigga's temple. He looked upon his mother with unspoken reluctance.
"Just the Nine Realms, yet they've driven father and son to turn against one another, to plot and scheme.
Just wait. When we meet again… I will be the Lord of All Things, the King of the Stars."
Returning silently to his own temple, Gilgamesh sent a telepathic command to the twelve Gold Saints, ordering them to gather immediately at the Temple of Light.
Despite not knowing when he had returned, none dared defy his summons, and they assembled at once.
Sitting high upon his divine throne, Gilgamesh gazed down at the twelve Saints kneeling in solemn formation. His expression was grave.
"I have decided to sever all ties with the Asgard pantheon. From this day forward, the God of Light will cease to exist in this world."
The Saints looked up instinctively, startled, but the weight of Gilgamesh's gaze forced their heads down again.
He knew their questions, but he offered no answers. Family matters were not theirs to know. How could he explain that Odin now sought to treat him the same way he had once treated Hela?
"I summoned you for one question," he declared, his divine voice echoing through the hall. "Who among you is willing to follow me?"
The answer came almost instantly:
"We are willing, my lord!"
Gilgamesh nodded as though he had expected nothing less. "Gather what you need. We are not returning."
The Saints exchanged uncertain glances. As Gold Saints, they already possessed all they required; aside from their sacred armors, they had little desire for worldly possessions. Whether poor or wealthy meant nothing to them.
Gilgamesh couldn't help but shake his head helplessly. Just as he prepared to depart with them, Gemini Saga spoke up with rare caution:
"My lord… should we bring the souls in Valhalla with us?"
"Valhalla?" Gilgamesh was momentarily taken aback. He almost agreed—then he remembered. Asgard was destined for Ragnarok. With him present, the prophecy held no power; he could prevent it effortlessly.
But if he left… could Ragnarok erupt in his absence?
He did not fear for Odin.
But Frigga… something might happen to her while he was gone.
After all, losing his father was one thing—but losing his mother was something else entirely.
And knowing Frigga's gentle nature, she would never wish to see Asgard suffer such torment.
"In that case, there's no need to take them. The spirits of the Nine Realms belong to the Nine Realms. I want Odin to witness with his own eyes that even without them, I can carve out my own destiny."
His cold voice sent a tremor through the crowd; not a single person dared to speak.
But to everyone present, it was obvious: something must have gone terribly wrong during the King's Trial. Otherwise, it would never have escalated to the point of fracturing the family.
Had they… failed the trial?
Sagittarius Aiolos and Leo Aiolia exchanged puzzled looks.
Their master's strength was unquestionable, and with his pride, he would never act like a sore loser.
What in the world had happened?
Everyone silently speculated, but no one had the courage to ask—not with his usual overwhelming presence pressing down on them.
Sensing the heavy atmosphere, and seeing that Gilgamesh had no intention of explaining, Saga forced a smile and asked, "Since you plan to leave the Asgard pantheon… have you decided where to settle?"
The question struck Gilgamesh like lightning. He had rushed over with only one thought in mind: to carve out a territory before Odin's eyes. He didn't care about the scraps Odin owned.
But… he hadn't actually thought about where to start.
"What major forces exist in the universe right now?"
Upon hearing this, the Saints' expressions collectively darkened.
So you came all this way… with zero plans? You're literally just running away from home?!
Faced with their burning, accusatory stares, Gilgamesh felt his cheeks grow warm. Embarrassment turning into irritation, he snapped, "What are you all staring at? Isn't gathering intel supposed to be your job?"
Gold Saints: (…) How is this our fault?!
"My lord," Saga explained patiently, "aside from the nearly annihilated Skrulls, the only relatively powerful forces in the universe at present are the Kree Empire, Xandar's Nova Corps, the Council of Elders, and the Celestials. The rest are minor factions."
"Of course," he continued, "Thanos and the Marauders have recently risen in prominence as well. If you must pick one to start with, I recommend Thanos."
"Oh? And why is that?"
Gilgamesh looked at him suspiciously. Was this brat trying to set him up? Even if he didn't pay attention to current affairs, he still knew that Thanos was supposed to be the Avengers' big boss. And now Saga was calling him a small fry and even suggesting he deal with him first?
Saga, sharp as ever, immediately understood the doubt on his master's face. But from his perspective, Thanos truly was insignificant, and he honestly couldn't grasp why Gilgamesh reacted as if Thanos were some great threat.
"Compared to Thanos's forces, the Marauders are much more scattered. They're space pirates hidden across countless dark galaxies—so even if you find some, it'll only be fragments, not worth your time."
"But Thanos is different. Compared to empires like the Kree, he's ultimately isolated and weak. For you, my lord, he'd make an ideal stepping stone."
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