Fate: Enuma/Elish

(This story is being written together with my friend Damian_Magnus.)

Raphael adjusted the coat he was wearing. He had never worn such a heavy coat in his life, but considering he was heading to Japan as winter approached, it was better to be safe than sorry.

"Art, I thought you were going to invite someone to come with us, like Gabriela," the blond said, running his hands through his hair before adjusting it again.

"Ugh, her family wouldn't allow it, and if I brought her along, it would practically be considered kidnapping," replied a young man with extremely dark brown hair. His skin was pale, and he wore high-quality glasses. He was dressed in casual black clothes—neither too fine nor too heavy, just enough to keep him from overheating while also providing protection from the wind.

His brown eyes scanned the people at the airport as he walked slowly. He wasn't carrying a suitcase, as he didn't feel the need to bring one, though it would usually be useful. Instead, he carried only a small backpack with essentials, including the necessary documents for boarding.

"What a disgusting family, treating her like an animal, keeping her locked up like that," Raphael said, his voice dripping with disdain. Each word came out as if he were ridding himself of something filthy. He adjusted the collar of his sweatshirt, which covered his neck, with a nonchalant gesture, seemingly to emphasize the tattoo hidden there. It was an intricate design of a blue rose that stretched from the nape of his neck down to the base of his arm. The tattoo seemed almost alive, pulsating with its own power, reflecting the contempt he felt for the situation.

That tattoo was his mark of freedom.

The dark blue sweatshirt he wore beneath a thick cotton coat was not a casual choice. The coat, with its straight, rugged cut, mirrored the attitude of the man wearing it. His black jeans, slim-fit, paired with black-and-white high-top sneakers, completed the look.

"Don't even get me started. If it were up to me, I'd have killed all of them a long time ago. But she just needs to endure another year with that trash," Art said, his words laced with scorn and contempt, as if he were referring to the worst filth and scum in the world. He adjusted his glasses with a simple push of his right hand, his gaze then falling to the backs of his hands. One bore the symbol of the sun and moon—a tattoo he had long desired but only recently managed to get.

He turned his gaze back to Raphael and spoke. "Did I ever tell you that someone once called child services and the police, and those bastards didn't do anything…?" His voice carried a restrained anger, like a balloon about to burst but never quite doing so. In simpler terms, he was holding himself back from exploding.

"Yeah, no need to remind me," Raphael replied, gripping his neck where the tattoo was. He pressed down on that area, as if drawing strength from it. His tattoo was a representation of his freedom, a reminder of when he broke away from his family about a year ago.

His family had been deeply Christian, and every aspect of his life had been dictated by their interpretation of God's commandments. But it had reached the point where he couldn't even live his own life properly.

"You know how much I hate this world full of idiotic prejudices, right, Art?" Raphael asked, staring at the runway through the window.

"Yeah, we've spent over an hour on calls just ranting about how this world is a complete mistake," Arthur replied with a sigh, trying to ease his stress. He glanced briefly at his friend, then pulled a book out of his backpack titled 黒白のアヴェスター.

The cover depicted a young woman with short golden hair and red eyes, holding a sword. In the upper-left corner, the number "1" was printed.

This was Avesta, available only in Japanese. Arthur was a fanatic and a devoted admirer of Shinza Banshō. In his opinion, it was a masterpiece, and he had already translated all the volumes of *Avesta* that year. He opened the book slowly, flipping through pages until he reached the beginning of the story.

Even while reading, he continued to chat with his friend.

"Rapha, am I the only one getting a bad feeling?" he asked, glancing at the plane they were about to board as it landed on the runway.

"Eh… maybe it's just your instincts hoping *Avesta* will finally release on Steam. It hasn't dropped yet, right?" Raphael said, turning to his friend and closing his eyes slightly. "They'll call for boarding soon. What do you want to eat?"

"Ha, maybe you're right," Art chuckled, his gaze shifting calmly around the terminal as he searched for something good to eat. "How about a sausage roll? There's also a little shop over there selling coffee." He gestured in the direction with his free hand, the one not holding the light novel.

"Sounds good. Let's go?" Raphael said, and the two headed off to eat.

While eating, they caught up on life. Raphael talked about his current situation, where he took on various jobs to earn money after cutting ties with his family. The pay was decent—$1,000 per job—and having done this work for three consecutive years, he had saved up quite a bit. However, he admitted to some regrets, particularly never having landed a job that involved "cleaning up" certain problematic people in the country.

Arthur, on the other hand, spoke about maintaining his relationship with his family, though it frustrated him that he couldn't help his girlfriend, Gabriela, as much as he wanted. He nearly slammed his fist on the table but held back, recalling the times he'd seen her with bruises. Despite the anger it stirred in him, he always managed to keep his composure to avoid doing something reckless.

He also shared some of his own struggles but expressed happiness about inheriting wealth from distant relatives.

Time Skip

Hours had passed since they boarded the plane. Raphael gazed out the window, noticing the dark, heavy sky. It had been like this for the past hour, the sky covered in dense clouds and rain.

'I don't remember hearing about rain today,' Raphael thought, before turning his attention elsewhere. His eyes landed on the figure of a woman with white hair, elegant clothing, and reddish-brown eyes staring at him. Raphael blinked, and she vanished. 'Why does she remind me of someone?'

"Rapha, are you seeing that?" came a whisper from beside him. It was Art, staring in the same direction where the woman had been. The reddish-brown eyes sent a chill down his spine. His instincts screamed in alarm, but with nerves of steel, he managed to keep his composure, though his body trembled slightly.

Art's cautious gaze lingered for only a moment before something more pressing occurred. A sudden, violent jolt shook the plane, forcing all passengers downward for a second. The entire cabin seemed to warp, trembling violently under a fierce turbulence.

A sound, like metal being ripped apart, echoed outside. One of the wings had likely been destroyed.

Raphael was thrown across the cabin, dazed and confused. How did it come to this? He glanced out the window again and saw the woman reappear—this time with a man clad in golden armor, surrounded by floating weapons.

Is that even pos—

Boom!

The plane spun violently in the air. Raphael struck his head and fell unconscious, his body slamming against various parts of the cabin as explosions erupted throughout the aircraft. Something outside seemed to be attacking it relentlessly, tearing through its structure.

For both Raphael and Arthur, the world dissolved into pure darkness—a complete void. They found themselves "floating" in a space where their senses had been stripped away. Yet, an inexplicable awareness lingered, as if their subconscious assured them they were somewhere in physical existence, though where exactly was beyond comprehension.

The woman reappeared between the two, her presence commanding and silent. Simultaneously, the armored man materialized, grabbing hold of Raphael, while another entity—formless and abstract—seized Arthur. These beings defied definition: the man had neither a face nor hair, existing only as a suit of armor.

[Identity: ???]

Their spiritual essence was hollow—there was something present, yet it lacked form or vessel. It was as if liquid existed but no container could hold it.

The substance surrounding them resembled a quantum ocean, if such a thing could be described. The void stretched endlessly, an abyss of black that cradled both their origins. The laws of physics, space, and time were fractured, disordered. In this place, such constructs lost all meaning, their coherence unraveled.

Gradually, a figure began to take shape from the depths of the void. It was androgynous, with long green hair and pale skin. Its eyes remained closed, yet it appeared serene, unaffected by the suffocating "liquid" around it.

"Initiating information overwrite. Merging origins," the woman said in a cold, emotionless tone, her voice as mechanical as a machine's.

The Origin within the armor was Gold, embodying Glory, Sovereignty, and Divinity. Through the overwrite process, it merged with the Origin of Raphael, who had once possessed Negation, Freedom, Separation, and Disgrace. The GoldOrigin supplanted and overwrote his Bronze Origin, erasing Raphael's identity.

A new existence was born—a being without a name or past.

[Identity: ??? (Formerly: Raphael)]

Meanwhile, the process for Arthur was underway. His own Origin and identity were being overwritten and obliterated from existence. It mirrored a transformation akin to that of Ren to Yato after the fusion with the fragment of Lotus.

Their divine auras began to expand, shaking the quantum ocean of void they were submerged in. One's power tore through the fabric of this chaotic space, while the other's reconstructed it, creating a delicate cycle of destruction and renewal.

[Identity: ??? (Formerly: Arthur)]

"Now speak your names!" the woman shouted, her voice echoing through the void.

The existence once known as Raphael opened his eyes. Crimson red burned within them, and now he stood adorned in golden armor.

"My name is Gilgamesh, King of Heroes and the Oldest Hero in the World."

Now reborn as Gilgamesh, the King of Kings revealed himself. His appearance retained echoes of the one who once bore the name of an angel of God, yet profound changes had taken place. His hair shimmered like gold, and his eyes gleamed as red as blood. However, one mark of his former self persisted—the Blue Rose tattoo remained on the left side of his neck.

"The Symbol of Freedom cannot be erased," the woman noted coldly, her eyes on the tattoo. "After all, it is the only origin that cannot be overwritten, holding value even greater than gold."

Gilgamesh's expression darkened as he fixed his gaze on the woman. Her unsolicited observations irked him.

"My apologies, Your Majesty," she quickly amended, bowing slightly before turning her attention to the other newly born existence. Gilgamesh's annoyance subsided, his expression softening.

"My name is Enkidu, the Chain of Heaven and the Weapon Forged by the Gods," the other figure said in a calm and serene voice.

Enkidu's androgynous appearance and voice defied categorization. Their divine aura spread across the void like a soft breeze, causing their long green hair and white mantle to ripple gently. Opening their amber eyes, Enkidu emanated a presence that felt as though the very planet had taken physical form before them. The transformation of Arthur into Enkidu was complete—body, soul, and even mind entirely altered.

"Gil... I never thought I'd see you again," Enkidu said, a gentle smile crossing their face. Memories of their life and their friendship with Gilgamesh, even up to the cursed day of their death, flooded their mind. Despite everything, their bond had never wavered.

"Enkidu... It's been far too long," Gilgamesh replied, returning the smile. Yet his gaze grew contemplative. He looked down at himself, aware that his existence was meant to reside in the Throne of Heroes. And yet, here he was, in flesh and blood. What's more, he realized that all other versions of himself had vanished.

The memories of his vessel—of Raphael, whose existence had been erased—rushed to him. A young man who defied God, who yearned for freedom, wealth, and power. A will strong enough to challenge even the heavens for his own path.

"To refuse to kneel, to reject servitude to any god—you have my respect, boy. Even if your name has been erased to ensure I could never recall it, I remember it still: Raphael." Gilgamesh's smile widened. This vessel, he thought, was perfect for the King of Babylon. A body so worthy it could only house him.

Enkidu, too, reflected on their transformation. Infinite memories of countless iterations of themselves flooded their mind—every battle, every moment of purpose. Their bond with the planet and the counter-force felt stronger than ever. Yet, they noticed something peculiar. They felt flesh and bone—a sensation foreign to one who had been forged from clay.

It became clear: their essence as clay had fused seamlessly with the flesh of their vessel. The transformation did not diminish their divine abilities; instead, it enhanced them, grounding their celestial nature in mortal experience.

"This boy... even while serving God, his loyalty to those he calls companions is unwavering," Enkidu remarked with a smile. They felt an affinity with their vessel's ideals. Though there were aspects they disagreed with, the vessel's unyielding gentleness and resolve to seek humanity's betterment resonated deeply within them.

In the Reverse Side of the World, the King Gilgamesh and the Divine Weapon Enkidu were reborn once more.