For the ancient hermit of the Underworld, Ziusudra—the sole survivor of the world-ending flood from the previous celestial catastrophe, who had been granted immortality—meeting the man without a destiny, Rowe, was a matter of profound importance.
His motivation was not merely gratitude for Rowe having torn open the rift to the Underworld, allowing him a temporary return to the world of the living. It was born from a deeper, more urgent knowledge: a disaster of similar, cataclysmic scale to the great flood of antiquity was gathering to sweep across this land once more. And within that coming storm, Rowe was destined to be a pivotal figure.
Ziusudra had a compelling reason to seek him out. Those who have already witnessed one annihilation have no desire to see the land rendered barren and civilization shattered a second time when the waters of divine wrath finally recede.
...
And so, time flowed onward.
For Rowe, the period that followed became one of unexpected peace. Within that sunlit room, a now fully-serious Gilgamesh had finalized their grand strategy to delay the gods' 'punishment.' The King had commanded the priests of the great temple to send prayers heavenward, formally declaring that he was 'considering' the demands of the pantheon.
Regardless of his recent rebellions, Gilgamesh remained the 'Wedge of Heaven,' a piece personally cultivated by the gods. Unless left with no other choice, they were reluctant to simply discard such a uniquely powerful and useful pawn.
Therefore, they clung to a sliver of hope that he might be brought to heel. This hesitation also stemmed from their own divine arrogance; they did not fear any tricks Rowe and his companions might attempt, and thus they naturally slowed their assault, patiently awaiting Gilgamesh's formal 'reply.'
No unexpected complications arose during this delicate diplomatic dance. The interlude remained calm and uneventful, granting Rowe a rare stretch of tranquility. Although his ultimate goal was fundamentally at odds with a peaceful life, he recognized that occasional periods of relaxation were necessary for maintaining perspective.
Moreover, he felt it was crucial to use this free time to delve into the deeper applications of the 'Key of Heaven' authority he now embodied, ensuring he would not be caught off-guard or 'tricked' by his own powers again as he had been before.
During this time, he did indeed master several nuanced aspects of the Key's abilities. Most notably, he learned to exert a degree of influence over the blessings that had been imposed upon him.
He couldn't completely toggle Ereshkigal's protection on and off at will, but he could significantly weaken its effect, turning a state of absolute 'non-erosion' into a conditional form of resilience. It was a critical step toward reclaiming control over his own fate—or lack thereof.
Also during this period, he took a moment to return to the Pantheon Temple to visit the elderly priests. At this juncture, with Uruk and the gods on the verge of a formal schism, the priests' position was uniquely awkward. Rowe could perceive their discomfort, their deep-seated hesitation.
While they had agreed to Gilgamesh's plan to buy time with false prayers, they had not yet resolved within their own hearts whether they could abandon their lifelong faith and fully break with the deities they had served since childhood. It was a torturous question.
Rowe did not press them. He always respected the choices of others. Whether they would be allies or obstacles later, the priests had shown him kindness in the past. This visit was merely a small, personal interlude.
The rest of the days passed smoothly. The only persistent 'problem' was a certain goddess who had taken to frequently 'harassing' him...
In the tranquil courtyard adjacent to the Uruk Royal Palace, the warm morning sun bathed the grounds in a clear, golden light, illuminating the lush greenery that climbed the walls. Rowe picked up the simple earthenware bowl from the table, taking a slow, appreciative sip of the rich, honeyed mead within.
As he lowered the bowl, his gaze immediately met that of the figure seated across from him, whose predatory crimson eyes were fixed with naked, unadulterated greed upon his drink.
The arms she rested on the table, revealed by her attire, were fair and almost translucent in the sunlight. Her graceful form was somewhat obscured by the formal, high-collared crimson jacket she had taken to wearing, a stark contrast to her previous, more revealing divine garb. Above it, her long black hair was now meticulously tied into two familiar sidetails that cascaded over her shoulders, framing a delicate face dominated by that intense, covetous stare.
This was Ishtar Rin, and for the past several days, this had been the unshakable routine. She would materialize at his residence shortly after dawn, planting herself across from him and staring with an unnerving intensity...
Unfortunately, it was always Ishtar who came. The gentler, more reserved presence of Ereshkigal had been conspicuously absent.
"Cough, cough. Rowe, what would you like to eat today?" Enkidu's soft voice broke the silence as she glided over, her steps light. Her vibrant emerald green hair flowed behind her, and her exquisitely beautiful face showed a hint of playful contemplation. "I have heard it said that the closer one is to a divine being, the more exquisite their flavor becomes. How about we try..." She let the sentence hang, her emerald eyes shifting meaningfully toward Ishtar.
Ishtar instantly flinched, yanking her gaze away from Rowe's mead as if scalded. Enkidu simply smiled, a silent, knowing expression. This, too, was part of the daily ritual—Ishtar, even in her divine vessel, possessed a deep-seated wariness of Enkidu.
After all, the Chains of Heaven were a conceptual weapon designed to bind the power of 'Heaven' itself, and 'Heaven' was synonymous with the gods. Ishtar naturally had no effective defense and certainly didn't wish to provoke the Divine Construct... though, due to the strange, compulsive attributes inherited from her host body, avoiding such friction was often difficult.
After all...
"So delicious—!" Ishtar was now devouring the platter of fruits and fresh bread Enkidu had brought to the table. After polishing off the meal, she let out a contented sigh. "How wonderful! To think the gods' clay doll possesses such magnificent culinary skills as well!"
Over these past few days, since Rowe's own cooking was notoriously Spartan and utilitarian—barely sufficient for sustenance—all culinary duties had been delegated to Enkidu. The Divine Construct possessed an immensely powerful and adaptable practical intelligence; such a domestic task was effortless for her.
But then, the Venus Goddess let out another sigh, this one more melancholic. "Hmm... To have such a capable clay doll taking care of you, and yet you still covet my sister, the Goddess of the Underworld... You truly are a greedy man... By the way," she mused, her tone shifting to idle curiosity, "is this clay doll male or female? Divine constructs shouldn't have a gender, right? So then how do you two... uh..."
The Venus Goddess seemed to be thinking aloud, her voice growing softer and more hesitant as she trailed off into dangerous territory.
Because a shadow had fallen over her. Enkidu now stood directly behind her, smiling that same, gentle, terrifying smile as she began to 'gently' manipulate the air around the goddess.
—It's over.
Ishtar's face instantly stiffened, all color draining from her features.
"Wuwuwu... Let me down!" A moment later, the roof beams inside the house groaned in protest amidst sounds of frightened clamor and the sharp jingle of chains.
Rowe glanced up at the goddess now dangling from the Chains of Heaven, suspended in the middle of the room, and could only rub his temples in a mixture of pity and exasperation. When it came to courting death through sheer, unadulterated verbal recklessness, this fellow was far more naturally gifted than he was. Rowe fell into deep, philosophical thought on the matter.
"Rowe, what are you thinking about?" Enkidu's clear voice chimed in his ear. Rowe snapped out of his reverie just in time to see En-chan's face close to his, her emerald green eyes sparkling, her moist lips reflecting tiny glimmers of light. "Do you want me to let that noisy fellow down now?"
"Hmm..." Rowe glanced up again at Ishtar, who was still wriggling vigorously in her silvery bonds.
Ishtar caught his look and immediately tried to project a desperate, pleading expression with her eyes.
Let! Me! Down!—
Rowe saw the silent plea and opened his mouth, about to suggest a release.
Bang.
With a soft, final sound, Enkidu, still smiling, reached out and calmly closed the thick wooden door to the inner room, completely isolating Ishtar's struggling figure and muffled protests from view. She had no intention of actually waiting for Rowe's reply.
Ishtar: "..." (Muffled indignation from behind the door)
Rowe: "..." (A long, silent sip of mead)
"Hmph hahaha, what a lively and welcoming sound!" A very distinctive, booming voice suddenly rang out from the courtyard entrance. "Is this a special welcome ceremony prepared in advance, knowing of this King's glorious arrival?"
Under Enkidu's ever-present, serene smile, Rowe, now resolutely ignoring the thumps coming from behind the door, took another calm sip of his mead. He looked at Gilgamesh, who strode into the courtyard with his characteristic swagger, and the ever-dutiful Adjutant Siduri, who followed a respectful step behind him.
"It's one thing for you, Kin Pika, to show up unannounced," Rowe said, using the nickname he'd coined for the flashy king, "but even the ever-busy Miss Siduri is here... It seems there's something important to discuss?"
"They are merely insignificant small fry, daring to challenge this King's authority..." Gilgamesh declared, dropping into the seat opposite Rowe and crossing his arms, utterly unconcerned with the ongoing situation in the next room. "This King will soon make those rabble-rousers know that in all of heaven and earth, only one person is qualified to bark irreverently at the one who controls all creation!"
"That line still makes my skin crawl every time," Rowe deadpanned, rolling his eyes.
But he had a fairly good idea what Gilgamesh was referring to. The 'small fry' were likely the neighboring city-states, stirred into a panic by the merchants' rumors and now making foolish, desperate moves.
****
"Kin Pika" = "Gold Sparkles" or "Mr. Shiny Gold"
"Kin Pika" = A nickname for Gilgamesh from Fate, meaning "Shiny Gold" or "Gold Sparkle Guy".
It pokes fun at his golden armor, wealth, and ego.