In this place, there exist many strange things.
Some speak of places where conventional understanding is flipped on its head, and common sense leaves you clueless to understand how things work.
When concepts that we have grown used to cease to exist within a given space, our way of life begins to change as we do our best to adapt. Even so, there are times when adapting is far too difficult- impossible even.
In situations such as those, our options go from limited to non-existent, and we are forced to suffer as our habits and norms continue to do more harm than good.
In a place where water can only exist in a solid form, and it becomes impossible to create liquid drinking water, the mortal man dies of thirst.
In a world where creation is limited to a single stage, and evolution is impossible, the growth of knowledge and power is impossible, and a mortal is reverted to its basest level.
In worlds where the concept of time is as distant as the edges of the universe, madness sets in before we even realize it. The instant a mortal from such a place were to feel the passage of time once again, its mind would break and it would fall further and further into insanity.
Sometimes, the mind cannot cope with certain changes. Adaptation becomes impossible, and so the mind begins to sacrifice pieces of itself, so as to make the suffering more bearable.
In harsh environments like these, the only way to survive is by accomplishing the impossible. But, the impossible remains impossible.
It can never be done.
...
Unimaginably distant white stars fill a galaxy of color, but life thrives on but a single planet. Alone in the cosmic halls of space, where not even the echo of history continues to reverberate, it exists in solace.
Upon the face of that same planet, something impossible arrived.
Hurtling through space and time, an unconscious young man, fully naked, landed within a huge corn field, destroying a large area of crops.
His arrival would have gone unnoticed, if not for someone who happened to be walking the fields that morning, arriving not too far from where Gilgamesh landed.
"KYAA!!!"
Mariam shrieked, clutching her chest and tripping over her own foot, falling backwards onto the dirt path in between the patches of corn. She watched as pieces of plants, strips of corn and large masses of earth were scattered in every direction wide wide eyes.
"It's the end of the world, just like the Gramps said! Oh no!!!"
Steeling herself, Mariam grabbed onto her head, pressing down on the puffy curls of her afro, and shut her green eyes as she got up and started running away.
However, before she could even get more than ten feet away, she tripped on her own foot again and fell on her face. "Oof!"
Laying there on the dirt, Mariam realized that the usual calm of the corn field had already returned. Sure there was a scattered mess and some mental damage, but the place seemed to return to normal already.
Spitting some dirt and leafy bits from her mouth, Mariam sat up and looked back at where the disturbance started. "Was it a dud? An 'End of the World' free trial?"
Dusting herself off, Mariam straightened her denim overalls and slowly made her way back where she came from. Pushing through the stalks of corn, she gulped before making the final move, officially stepping onto the site of the crash.
That was when she saw the devastating effects of Gilgamesh's arrival firsthand. The way the earth cratered, and how the corn was blown back. Some of the stalks were even pressed flatly into the ground.
Covering her mouth, Mariam looked around in disbelief. "What in the flying f-"
"Uugh..."
Hearing the sound of someone groaning, Mariam's eyes widened again. She scurried over to the crater, seeing Gilgamesh laying in the epicenter, covered in dirt.
Gasping, Mariam dove straightaway into the hole. "Are you okay!?"
She slid down the side of the crater, dirtying herself once again but not caring this time. She did not spare a moment to think about why there was a person laying in the crater, all she cared about was that there was someone who very likely needed help.
When she got to Gilgamesh, she knelt at his side, raising him onto her lap as she assessed his situation. That was when she realized that there was an area on his chest that the dirt seemed to cling to.
Almost as if his chest was wet.
"Oh my ...goodness..."
Mariam finally noticed the huge gash on Gilgamesh's chest after scarping off some of the caked up dirt. The insides of his chest were almost all exposed, and his rib cage was mercilessly destroyed.
"I don't know if you can hear me, mister, but hold on. I'm gonna get you some help."
Tucking both arms under Gilgamesh, one under his neck and the other under his legs, she lifted him up and looked up out of the crater. Taking a deep breath, a floral aura encapsulated her body, and she leapt out of the deep hole in a single bound.
Dashing through the corn with Gilgamesh in tow, Mariam focused only on what was in front of her- where she was going.
In her determined haste, she did not notice the brief moment where Gilgamesh's eyes opened weakly, like he was stirring in his sleep.
His eyes took in a single image of a sky of pure silver, in which there were white clouds that looked more like mist. At random points in the sky, there were empty spaces filled with nothing but raw white light, like miniature white suns in place of a singular, large one.
This was the only thing he saw before he blacked out again.
...
Above the silver sky, through a portal of similar composition as the one that Gilgamesh came through, the armored Phantasm appeared, resting its massive sword on its shoulder.
It stood upon silver light, looking down at the world below. Above it, the very quintessence of the cosmos swirled above it, creating the spiritual form of a hurricane. At the center of this swirling storm cloud, the colorless light of heaven came down again.
There was a thunderous, but soft sound, that only the Phantasm could understand-- the sound was only intended for the Phantasm. To anyone else, it would sound like mighty thunder, impossible to derive any meaning from.
This was the same sound that came to Gilgamesh.
The Phantasm, standing relaxed, looked into the eye of the cosmic storm and lifted its palm upward. "This is it. His spiritual signature."
A formless, shapeless, colorless and lifeless mass of pure aura escaped from the Phantasm's hand and flew up into storm, where it was received. The sound thundered again, and the Phantasm shook its head.
"He managed to survive, even though he does not seem to understand anything."
There was silence, before a brief sound.
"I must ask," the Phantasm shifted its stance, somewhat hesitant, "what kind of Thematic Being does not understand their own way? Even artificial ones tend to have more than perfect understanding of their individual ways. How is it that this one does not?"
The sound came, powerful and concise, like a direct jab.
The Phantasm hurried to answer, "What I mean to ask is... how can this one exist? Thematic Beings are ideas, and they exist as those ideas incarnate. If this one is unaware of the idea it lives as, then it shouldn't be alive, should it?"
"As far as Thematic Beings are concerned, he is an enigma. There must be something else to him that I cannot see."
Finally, the Phantasm turned around and looked down to the world again, this time resting its sword on the silver light floor.
It sighed, before posing its final question. "Can you see that which I cannot?"
Above, the cosmic storm cloud swirled unendingly, but there was silence for about a full minute before it responded.
This time, the Phantasm gasped loudly, and let go of its sword, leaving it embedded in the silver light. "You cannot mean-"
The sound crashed again, like heavenly thunder that shook the foundations of the world.
The Phantasm shook, and took a knee, "Forgive me, Lord. I shan't ask any more of you regarding this one. I shall do as you command, and keep an eye on him."
There was no more of that sound, and the Phantasm soon stood again at the same time that the cosmic hurricane was dispersing.
It turned around again and focused wholeheartedly on the world beneath, not making a sound. Whatever the Phantasm was thinking or feeling was a mystery.
However, there could be no doubt that whatever Heaven had said to it regarding Gilgamesh was replaying over and over again in its head, likely tormenting it with thoughts and theories that it could not prove or disprove.
It had no choice but to wait patiently, and see what would become of this Gilgamesh.