The body fell to the ground. Gilgamesh could see it, the kid's body didn't handle such a powerful Awakening.
'Shit, I exaggerated.' With his astral form, Gilgamesh could see what is happening. He was getting anxious. Soon enough the Mages would track him again and kill him.
Lots of trucks, police car, ambulances and journalists arrived at the harbor. The police officers closed the entire harbor for this apparent terrorist attack. Seeing it clearly, Gilgamesh saw that some of the kids in the container still survived. He was afraid some of them could even have awoken as well with the overflowing power of his own awakening, but there was no way for him to get sure now. He was just an Avatar without any power what so ever, and his recent semi-onipotence was gone.
The strange thing is... Being in an astral form, he couldn't feel anything, but at the same time, a feeling of nausea overflowed within him. He coudn't be an Avatar. An Avatar is a separated being, so, what was happening.
'Eh... It can't be!'
The truth is often difficult to swallow. Every time he had been reincarnated, this hadn't happened, so why was this any different? Was he an Avatar?
'No... This is too much power for this body, he can't handle an Avatar that powerful, I'm gonna...'
Even as an Avatar, he almost blacked out. Being more correct, he shattered. Every piece of his being broke into pieces, as if it was almost dying. If that happen, if the Avatar of a Mage dies... He would never be a Mage anymore, he could never reincarnate again, he would be mundane.
He could feel his shattered pieces being sucked out by the Paradox of Reality. This world don't want to allow him to exist, so it was gonna regurgitate him to the depths of Reality until it could kill him.
'I can't let it happen!'
With sheer force of will, he forced himself to resist the Paradox and not to get sucked by it, forcing himself to fuse with his new body. But the ammount of strenght he had to pull to make this astonishing feat, defy reality, was no joke. He didn't had the time to calculate and maneuver, there so, he did not just flyed to the boy's body he had lived six years already, but also, trying to controlling his hundreds of thousands of parts, he end up fusing himself with many of the other childrens, workers, police officers, and nurses surrounding him. As he extended his essence, he felt himself intertwine with their lives, drawing strength from them. Yet, as his power surged, he could no longer maintain this connection. The remnants of his being, most of his fragmented magical-self, were cast adrift, scattered across the vastness of the universe, lost among the known and unknown realms of Reality.
'Damn...'
Gilgamesh internally screamed at this. He lost more then 90% of himself, and only 5% stood with his reincarnated body, he had to awaken a lot of people to get out of this situation with less damage. He coudn't even control his direction at that situation. The worst part was, certainly, that he was an Avatar.
He was not reincarnated at this boy. Not even was he to possess this body later, no, he was his guide through all of his path of Mage. He would never be a mage himself!
...
Some days later, at a hospital, a kid awoke.
"Nurse! One of them woke up!" A police officer called a nurse that rush for the kid in his bed.
"Let me check him."
The nurse made sure the kid was fine before asking his name. He was not Gilgamesh, he didn't had a name. He told her that.
The police did not ask the boy for information about the incident. A child who didn't even remember his own name. Maybe it was pointless to ask at the moment.
Meanwhile, all those surviving kids were interviewed, if they at least knew anything, but it seems that they also didn't had a clue on their identity, or even on what happened.
"That's certainly unprecedent. All of them got amnesia?"
"How is that possible?"
"We can't push them into telling us everything. They were being trafficked. Only God knows what I will do with them, and what he has already done."
"That don't help the police."
"We found some of the parents of the kids. They can be back at home, but, some of them will need to go to the orphanage."
"It is what it is."
Lots of discussion around the childrens were being held.
'I'm in a hospital?' The boy thought. The grown ups were not in the room, but still, their discution could be heard.
A man passed through the door dressing a smoking and a hat, his hair was white and he had a very impressive beard. He cast a calm, assessing gaze over the room before his eyes settled on the boy, who sat quietly on his hospital bed. With a polite nod, he walked over, his polished shoes clicking softly against the floor.
"Good evening," he greeted, his voice deep and measured. "My name is Mr. Borba, and I'm here to take you to a new place, a place where you'll be safe and cared for."
The boy looked at him, eyes wide but expression unreadable. He didn't say anything, just watched this mysterious figure with an unblinking stare. Mr. Borba seemed unfazed; he was used to the silence of children who had seen too much, who were wrapped in layers of shock and confusion.
With a gesture, he invited the boy to stand, and the child obliged, slowly rising from the bed. Other children in the ward watched in hushed silence as nurses entered to help gather their few belongings—mostly small bags containing clothes provided by the hospital, some toys, and items of comfort.
One by one, the children lined up, each accompanied by a nurse or caretaker. Mr. Borba addressed them in a calm, reassuring tone.
"I know this may feel strange. But rest assured, you will be taken care of and soon find a new home."
They walked out together, a solemn procession down the sterile corridors of the hospital, illuminated by dim evening lights. Outside, two dark, comfortable-looking vans waited, each marked with the symbol of the St. Gabriel's Orphanage. The children were quietly ushered into the vehicles, the cold night air adding to the eerie stillness that followed them.
Mr. Borba made sure every child was settled, casting a careful glance at each one as if assessing their silent burdens. Finally, he climbed into the front seat of the lead van, nodding to the driver, who started the engine with a low rumble. The convoy pulled away from the hospital.
'This world must really hate me.' The Avatar of Gilgamesh thought. This Mr. Borba was no other then a Mage.
'They already found me, but... Don't seem to have discovered my identity yet. Maybe this has to do with the fact that my consciousness isn't inside the boy's body? What about the other kids that I awakened at the harbor? Too many questions...'
The fact was that Gilgamesh coudn't contact his other pieces. Only one thing could be done. Get them back. But to get them back... It's not on his hands but on the hands of this child. He would have to nurture and educate him carefully, but perhaps that would be impossible around another Mage.
'I'll delay my reveal to him, until I can think of something.'