'It is dark.'

'I have known the darkness of nether-earth, but it was nothing like this. This darkness is... warm. It cradles me so gently, as if I belong to it and it to me.'

'I cannot shake the feeling, also, that I have felt this before. Long, long ago. So long ago, in fact, that I do not think I had even been confined to nether-earth at the time. Perhaps I had experienced this darkness before, in my freedom, when I roamed the earth.'

Gilgamesh's Thoughts From Within the Womb|

"Push! Push- that's it! Angelica, push!"

Shouts and screams echoed throughout the room and spilled into the nearby chambers, having all those within the mansion on high alert. At the first sign of any complication, dozens of maidservants and manservants- even kitchen staff- would come bursting through the door into the bedchamber of the Master and Mistress.

At this time, Mistress Angelica was in the presence of physicians, their aides and, of course, her husband Master Logan.

The ailing woman was bathed in sweat and poorly covered, exposing herself as she spasmodically thrashed. The position of her legs did not help her, of course, but she was in far too much pain to care. Ivory strands stuck to her skin's adhesive despite her heaving with each heavy breath. With her eyes shut, she cried out and squeezed even tighter on her husband's hand.

Logan looked to his wife with unending sympathy, worry in his golden eyes, but more than enough strength in them to weather the storm for both him and his wife. This was what they had chosen, despite all the warnings.

It did not matter how hard having this child- and raising it- would be. Neither of them cared. This child was the fruit of their love, the manifestation of something pure.

After almost sixteen hours, their baby boy was delivered, healthy and strong, though smaller than most. Even so, his cries were loud enough for all those listening attentively outside to hear. Their celebrations began almost instantly.

"Congratulations," the physician, a young man, smiled warmly at the couple.

"4 pounds, 10 ounces," one of his aides said, a worried look on her face.

Angelica, despite how tired she was, was preparing to raise from the bed at that. Logan held her, then asked, "Is that bad, Cassius?"

The physician shook his head, "It is lower than average, but nothing worth worrying over yet. I will continue the Mistress' checkups for a few more weeks, and check on the Young Master as well. Please, be at ease now."

Taking the child from his helper, the physician, Cassius, wrapped him in cloth and brought him over to his parents. Angelica's fear vanished once she laid eyes on her son, reaching to take him even though she was fighting fatigue. The child had already stopped crying, and was instead making all manner of garbled sounds.

They delighted in him regardless, and once the nurses told those outside that they could come in, a large number of people rushed in to delight in him as well. It did not take long before sleep took Angelica, and so they cleared the room once again. Logan remained at her side, in bed, with the baby in between.

His senseless mutterings never ceased, and Logan's smile never faded. Their child was born healthy. That was the most important thing. Yet still, a trace of worry remained hidden behind his eyes. Some nagging thing remained on his mind.

____________

So it was in adoration that He was welcomed into this world, just as it was in adoration that He left the other.

Gilgamesh had spent many millennia in nether-earth, decreed by the Gods of his world to never rise again. Yet, through the incomprehensible windings of fate, he had slipped through the crevice and entered a new world.

Stranded within the almost lifeless subconscious of a newborn boy, Gilgamesh revels in the warmth of this new darkness. As for what comes next, time alone can reveal such things. All he and any of us can do, is wait.