3333 years ago - Somewhere in Irak.

"Gilgamesh, don't make it harder for all your brothers and sisters of Uruk."

"Kill him!"

"Gilgamesh! For all your crimes, I, Ur-Uruk sentence you to death!"

...

'Ah... That feeling... All of you came to see me finishing my requiem...' Gilgamesh thought, with a smile on his face.

Dozens of warriors armed and equipped with shining armor, swords, spears and shields faced Gilgamesh. They were in the hundreds from the start of the battle, but, not all of them could resist the might of this villain. They were all mages, what the Babylonian people liked to call Awakened. These were the forces of Babylon, all of them entitled themselfs as Warriors of Uruk.

Gilgamesh standed there, unfazed. His robes were all in shreds, he was covered in blood, most of it wasn't even his, but even his left eye was taken. This battlefield has cost him a lot. But it has cost even worse for those who fought him now.

Gilgamesh gave in to the feeling of death. It was near, an inevitable death. The bloody robe waved at the cold winds of the winter as he raised his arms and closed his eyes to receive death. This quick moment of feeling the breeze was so good for Gilgamesh that he used a part of his precious Quintecense, not that precious if he was going to die anyway, to make that moment endure.

"Tsk, what are you smirking on, you fiend!" Saying that, one of the Warriors of Uruk made a move and a fireball were throwed at Gilgamesh that then opened his eyes with anger.

Without a sign, or even a word, the fireball vanished, as if it was never conjured at all. All the warriors around were surprised, they started to being even more cautious at these final moments of the villain. Gilgamesh started laughing.

"Yes... Excellent! I haven't had this much fun in ages!" Gilgamesh screamed of extasy. The warriors of Uruk were furious at him. It was if he was making fun of their effort even in death. 

"Come at me, Warriors of Uruk! Make your pathetic king proud! Defeat the villain! Honor the dead!" Gilgamesh screamed while snapping up his fingers, making an explosion happen in the face of the warrior that threw that fireball at him, killing him immediatly.

He jumped back to the battle but was intercepted by four warriors that pierced several swords at his back midair, making him fall to the ground.

Gilgamesh coughed up blood, but there was no place to stain anymore. All the battlefield was filled with bodies and red snow of blood.

At his final moment, he laughed. He laughed until he coudn't. He laughed until he could traumatize all the Warriors of Uruk, making them remember all the people that they have lost because of this crazy dog. He laughed until they could realized that even with such a tremendous force of almost two hundred awakened warriors... They lost more then half that number by a single awakened. He laughed because he destroyed all the ideals of Babylon and their precious city of Uruk was burned to the ground.

Until his last breath... He laughed.

His entire life flashed before his eyes in his final moments. He remembered looking up from the Tower of Babel when he was still a child, awakening, and then recalled his slow evolution in understanding his Magical-Self. They said he was untalented, yet he still evolved quickly in his understanding of the Outer-Magical, the Spheres of Reality.

For every hundred thousand people, only one had the capacity to Awaken to magic. And from that meager number, one hundred eighty warriors gathered to kill him. That truly disappointed him. His journey ended here.

Or that was what he thoughted

Ancient Age...

Middle Age...

Modern Age...

He was viewed as the outmost demon throughout the ages. As such, he was hunted down by other awakened... He coudn't live enough to evolve.

...

"Hey! Get the fuck out, all of you!"

The young Gilgamesh, now without a name, was tired, drooling, his infant body coudn't handle so much physical trauma. 'This is the fourth... No, fifth time already...' he thought as he got up and keep on walking

In this modern world, people no longer call themselves warriors, nor do they wear shining armor or wield swords and shields. Well, at least Gilgamesh hadn't met any swordsmen in his last six years of life. So why was he dreaming all of this. He didn't went to school to learn about these things, he could never do it in his current situation.

Every single night, he would dream of this man called Gilgamesh, as if it was his own memories, as if he was Gilgamesh, but he was just a child, a victim. The problem is: His child's brain coudn't sustain his last personality, nor his knowledge, not when he did not Awakened yet. He never lived for so long after he was Gilgamesh. He coudn't know the full effects of reincarnation, but... He was not that last Gilgamesh.

Not until he awake to reality!

Everytime he slept, since he was a baby, small pieces of memories came into his mind. Memories of an infant life as a commoner in the medieval France, or as a british in the Industrial Revolution...

All these memories were short. The only memory that was long enough to make him dream so many times of one single person was the dream where he was a Mesopotamian man named Gilgamesh. Alongside this dreams, there were dreams that he was other persons at different time periods, but, everytime he passed through an event these dreams called 'Awaken', soon enough he would be dead.

It was a set of constant nightmare for six years until he could dream of this man named Gilgamesh. He was one of the first mages of humankind, awoken by the Babel Tower. He used his power in a constant driven to go beyond the Awaken, but was surrounded by the forces of Uruk and killed at the spot.

In this life, Gilgamesh was a victim of human trafficking. He was in a dark and dirty conteiner full of other childrens. As the man screamed for all of the scared childrens to get out of the conteiner, he opened it and the sun light hit hard at their eyes.

There were three mans, a big fat white man with a cigar on his mouth, a black man so thin you could almost see his bones and a latino with a mustache.

The kids screamed at fear and tried to avoid those mans, getting near to the wall of the conteiner, effort made in vain.

"I liked this one." The big and fat man blow a lot of smoke while laughing, grabbing a boy's arm, smiling viciously while looking at him.

"No! No! My brother!" One of the girls screamed when one of the criminals push her brother's arm, but then, the latino just kicked the girl's head back in the conteiner.

"Aquieta! Shut the fuck up! Be quiet!"

'So... What year am I now? Things must have changed again.' This thought surged into the child's mind. It was not his... It was something else.

The men sneer, dragging them forward like cattle. Gilgamesh's thin frame stumbles, his knees weak from malnutrition and countless nights of fear. But something in the daylight ignites a long-forgotten spark within him; a power buried and forgotten, now surging uncontrollably to the surface.

'Oh... Now I can see...'

In the past six years, this boy have dreamed of this man called Gilgamesh. A villain that destroyed the City of Uruk of the Great Babylon. A man that killed hundreds of thousands of mans, womans and childrens for centuries just to get stronger, so much so, that every mage in the known world at that time united to fight him alltogether. After his death, he reincarnated several times, but, he was always killed by other mages that tracked his spirit and killed him at the spot, even when he was a kid at those times. They never let him evolve again.

His pulse quickens, a sensation of boundless energy swelling inside him. In an instant, his vision blurs with memories: ancient rituals in dark temples, spells of pure, destructive force, and battles where his will alone obliterated entire armies... It was all he dreamed about Gilgamesh. The power floods him with a primal rage, not directed at the men before him, nor at the children surrounding him. It's simply a hunger, a relentless, consuming drive to destroy.

One of the men laughs and reaches out, pointing his gun at the kids. But as his fingers tighten on the trigger, Gilgamesh's eyes became sharp. The man gasps, his arm dissolving into a fine mist, blood splattering onto the childrens nearby.

"What the- What the fuck!" The fat men back away, confusion and terror replacing their amusement.

In that split second, Gilgamesh becomes something unstoppable.

'In this short period of time of awakening... Hehheheheeheheh... I can kill them all!"

Power roars from him like a storm, ripping through everything and everyone around him. One man is flung backward as his chest implodes, ribs shattering with a sickening crack. The others try to run, but an invisible force drags them forward, one by one, twisting their limbs into grotesque shapes as their bones snap under the strain.

A scream echoes as a child nearby is ripped apart by the sheer force of Gilgamesh's awakening, their small body torn in two by the pressure. Others cry out, trying to shield themselves, but there is no escape. The cargo hold becomes a chamber of horrors, metal bending and twisting around them, the air heavy with the stench of blood and charred flesh.

Limbs are severed, bodies explode into showers of gore, the children's cries merging into a cacophony of terror. Gilgamesh's lips curl into a smirk, though his mind is nearly lost in the surge of power, a dark ecstasy flooding him as blood splatters his face. He's not just reborn; he's unchained, free from all restraint, a storm of vengeance and violence.

As the final scream fades, Gilgamesh stands alone amid the carnage, the silence punctuated by the dripping of blood from the walls and ceiling. The ground is littered with fragments of bone, limbs twisted at unnatural angles, bodies lying in heaps, their eyes wide open in lifeless horror. Drenched in blood and surrounded by the ruins of his awakening, Gilgamesh breathes in the metallic scent with satisfaction. For the first time in millennia, he feels alive.

He laughed.

"In chaos, life shatters,

Blood stains the ground,

Screams and laughter echo,

In horror, I'm crowned." He laughed as he finished his poem.

He could see now the big scenario he was in. A huge harbor full of conteiner, but now, stained with blood.

"A massacre... I'm still pretty damn powerf-..." He gasp

Then, everything was black. He simply fell to the ground, unconscious.