I am goddess slayer trained by Shiva: I have killed too many minor gods in other galaxies… no one really knows about me… in the future, I will kill all gods. This is not the main thing that I could do. It seemed that the main way to make a living was by presenting the heads of these gods to shiva. In the beginning of this jobs, I was chased by Ishtar. My name is Gilgamesh, the one who had devoured the heaven, for Fill your belly with good things; day and night, night and day, dance and be merry, feast and rejoice... For this too is the lot of man.
Gilgamesh positioned himself outside the huge tree of life that was the base for the reunion of Karl's girls and then he got to attack. But….. it was futile: it needed more than attack to be brought down by normal means. This turned out to be useless: lady justice had put a guard outside. This was not normal at all. In his life he only had one objective: to become powerful enough to bring back his friend to life. Initially, nothing could have been further from the truth. It was the best that he could do.
Gilgamesh: How can I keep silent? How can I stay quiet?
My friend, whom I loved, has turned to clay,
my friend Enkidu, whom I loved has turned to clay.
Shall I not be like him, and also lie down,
never to rise again, through all eternity?
Hah!" Gilgamesh roars, sword raised toward the sky where he looks at them "Do these puppets dare stand before a god among men? You are just what your minor goddess tells you to do. You are not that ancient. HAHA! All your fake gods will fall beneath my ability. I shall crush them all—and you—with one hand!"
But from the shadows beyond the arena, a cold wind rises.
A lone sentinel steps forth of 78 kilometres in height—tall, cloaked in silver and white, bearing a shield marked with scales of perfect balance. The Guard of Iustitia places one boot on the sands after being connected to what it seemed to be the longest distance of faith for the goddess of justice.
"You fight not for glory," their voice echoes like judgment itself. "**You fight for survival. And justice should be done by those who can justify everything through the right interpretations.
Gilgamesh charges first as if he were the whole universe, roaring like a storm unleashed on those who want to live. His blade like Excalibur, forged by gods and tempered in legend, cuts through the air with blinding speed. But the Guard of Iustitia does not flinch for no reason.
With a movement so precise it seems predestined, they raise their shield—the Scales of Equity glowing white-hot—and deflects Gilgamesh's strike into the sand so they could actually take a whole bow before what seemed to be the momentum of their battle, sending up a plume of sparks. That said, the force cracks the ground beneath their feet.
"You fight for pride," Iustitia's guard says calmly. "I fight for consequence and grace "
Backflipping from a follow-up slash, they spin mid-air and land behind Gilgamesh—shield slamming into his spine like divine judgment. The King stumbles but laughs wildly.
"FOOL! You think balance can stand before might? Look at these cursed warriors! They are bound to kill or be killed—a perfect arena! Where is justice in that?! HAHAHA! Only strength decides fate here!"
Guilgamesh smiled at him, looking down on him before slicing him into two.
Gilgamesh: I will set up my name in the place where the names of famous men are written, and where no man's name is written yet I will raise a monument to the gods. We can't accept things as they are, so long as we think that things should be different. Tell us how not to believe what we think, and then maybe we'll be able to hear