"e-nu-ma e-liš la na-bu-ú šá-ma-mu
The heavens above had no name.
šap-liš am-ma-tum šu-ma la zak-rat
The earth below had no name.
ZU.AB-ma reš-tu-ú za-ru-šu-un
In the beginning there was the deep, the place of their birth.
mu-um-mu ti-amat mu-al-li-da-at gim-ri-šú-un
Tiamat, Mother of All, bore them all.
A. MEŠ-šú-nu iš-te-niš i-ḫi-qu-ú-šú-un
The great waters were as one, mingled together.
gi-pa-ra la ki-is-su-ru su-sa-a la she-'u-ú
No reeds were plaited into shelter, no marshes could be seen.
e-nu-ma Dingir.Dingir la šu-pu-u ma-na-ma
At that time, the gods were not yet revealed."
...
In the central cabin, seven replica tablets of the Mesopotamian creation epic Enuma Elish were stacked into a towering altar.
The surviving priestesses and clerics knelt in turn, crossing their hands over their chests as they solemnly chanted the divine verses, reverently recounting the great deeds of the two Creator Deities.
On all sides of the altar, thousands of golden whirlpools hung open—gateways leading directly to the Babylonian Treasury, from which countless treasures spilled like flowing water.
Gilgamesh, seated amidst this flood of riches, remained impassive. To him, wealth existed to be spent; so long as it achieved the desired outcome, he cared nothing for the amount.
The Great Offering was the highest ritual linking mortals to the Divine. In Sumerian custom, even the guardians of the Underworld could be bribed by the dead—and if the price was high enough, even gods would bow their heads.
When he had once offered such a sacrifice to bring Enkidu back, it had been no less lavish. Yet those lofty Divine Spirits had been utterly unyielding, leaving not a shred of room for negotiation.
For that reason, he harbored a quiet aversion toward the Great Offering.
Still… perhaps this time, things would be different.
The King of Heroes cast a glance at the blank Tablet of Destinies in his hand—the one upon which he had sealed his pact with Samael—and his expression grew thoughtful.
As the ritual neared its end, Gilgamesh rose, stepped into the altar, and unfurled the scroll-like Royal Seal, his face solemn.
"Mother of Genesis, our Mother Goddess Tiamat—holy in form, yet burdened with the name of a beast. You never betrayed the world, yet the world abandoned you...
By my royal authority, I pass judgment: you are not a beast of calamity, but a goddess of compassion!
The foundation of the gods has been reshaped. Mother Goddess, by the law of return, I bid you come forth again!
May glory, majesty, power, and dominion be restored to you—from before time began, to this moment, and forevermore!"
Buzz!
With the Royal Seal, the earthly king tore away Tiamat's ill repute, imploring her to grant the miracle of salvation.
From the altar, a golden pillar of light surged skyward. The jewels, gold, silver, and Mysteries spilling from the Babylonian Treasury dissolved into glittering motes thick with Ether.
Amid the rhythmic tremor in the air, a straight path of light formed, rising from below to above.
Samael immediately felt a chord within his mind resonate, and from the Sea of Imaginary Numbers, a vast and towering presence began to surface.
But the chant-like response that followed carried an undercurrent of unease.
The offering is insufficient! And the offerings themselves are wrong!
As the child of a god, the ancient serpent understood the Mother Goddess's unspoken will at once.
Turning sharply, he suddenly recalled the threads that had streamed forth from the humans earlier. Realization struck him, and he seized the statue of the Goddess Tiamat from his arms, charging toward the aft cabin with a thunderous shout.
"The king is performing the Great Offering, but gold and silver are not what the Mother Goddess Tiamat desires. What she cherishes are the lives of those on this earth!"
"Only through your invitation can the Mother of Origin be awakened from her loneliness and pain!"
"Pray! Pray to the Mother Goddess!"
The fervent, almost crazed look on the Shepherd Priest's face froze the air in the cabin.
A priestess who had fled from a Babylonian temple recalled the teachings of the Age of Gods, her expression clouded with doubt.
"But… Tiamat was once the enemy of the gods. They say she was merciless beyond compare. Will she… truly protect us?"
Samael drew in a deep breath. Bat-like wings spread behind him, and his voice was cold.
"Look around you. How many here have lost husbands, fathers, brothers? How many wives and children have been torn apart from their families? And you still cling to hopes of divine mercy?"
"The gods will not be moved by ants. They care only for the turning of the Mandate of Heaven!"
"And it was the Mandate of Heaven that first chose the Mother Goddess Tiamat as the great calamity to wipe out humanity."
"But she resisted that instinct—she chose instead to seal the Hole in the Sky for you!"
"She has always loved you. Always…"
"I am Tiamat's divine child. By her will, I defy this so-called Mandate of Heaven, guiding humanity through the Three Storms!"
As his words fell, those around him glanced at each other, sorrow etched on their faces. Yet like frightened lambs, they remained silent, their suppressed stillness chilling Samael's heart.
"And I too—follow my mother's will and fight for humanity!"
Suddenly, a pale-faced Kukulkan appeared at the doorway, steadying herself against the frame as she staggered in. She smiled and winked at Samael.
"Me too!"
"Me too!"
"Me, me… and me!"
Ereshkigal, Ishtar, and finally Anna—newly awakened—stepped into the cabin, each bearing witness to the Mother Goddess's compassion.
A silent understanding passed among the goddesses.
They had been moved by Tiamat's divine child; that alone meant they had been touched by the inspiration of the Mother of Origin. By her will, they would protect the life that dwelled on this earth.
They did not need to weigh the true intentions of the so-called Mother of Evil Dragons—believing in their comrade was enough.
One by one, the onlookers were stirred. Though they held different idols, came from different city-states, and bore different histories, they chanted the same divine name with the purest reverence.
The Mother of Origin—Tiamat!
Gradually, the voices from all three Noah's Arks merged into one, growing clearer and more powerful, like a torrent tearing through darkness and washing away the world's filth.
"Aaaa…"
A joy-filled resonance, like the echo of a song, burst within Samael's mind.
Through his cross-shaped pupils, he saw threads of light solidifying on each person, rising and vanishing into the Sea of Imaginary Numbers beyond the World Egg.
Bang!
Within the thunderclouds, the Jaguar Warrior intercepting Apsu flickered with unsteady light, her movements and destructive power rapidly waning. Caught off guard, she was swatted away by the Great Dragon of Ether.
The three Noah's Arks, having only narrowly avoided several beams of Mana, lurched violently. The outer Magecraft barriers shuddered, moments from collapse.
And in the Sea of Imaginary Numbers, the Ark of Life—only just risen—was still far from the barrier of the world.
Too slow. Too slow!
With the apocalyptic dragon looming so close, Samael's impatience spiked.
Then, as he turned, he saw them—two invisible anchors, bright as searchlights, streaming from the divine cores of Ereshkigal and Ishtar.
These two anchors were a hundred times stronger, a hundred times clearer than the bond in his own god-born mind.
Ishtar—the Mistress of Heaven…
Ereshkigal—the Mistress of the Earth…
Heaven and Earth? Could it be…
Realization struck Samael. Joy lit his eyes. In an instant, he seized the white wrists of Ereshkigal and Ishtar and pulled them toward the altar.
...
(50 Chapters Ahead)
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