Gilgamesh's smile broadened, the faintest glimmer of amusement flickering behind his sharp, golden eyes. He stood there, tall and regal, the very image of a king who had conquered not just lands but the essence of time itself. His presence still radiated power, but there was something more behind that smile—an understanding, a reality beyond my immediate grasp.
"You're right," he said, his voice carrying that familiar tone of superiority. "But my time in this world is not long." He glanced at the pen still clutched in my hand, his eyes narrowing slightly as if weighing the artifact's significance once more. "Only under certain conditions can I manifest in your world, just like this."
I frowned, my mind already racing. His words weren't just casual observations; they were the key to something far deeper. "What conditions?"
Gilgamesh would be the greatest ally I could rely on.
