What's The Point?

"You have no idea how many lives She has written. How many Stories she's massacred all for the sake of entertainment."

"There are more ideas floating around in my memory than there are actual beings in the Beginningless Library. She creates and destroys in an endless search for satisfaction, excitement-- entertainment."

Gilgamesh had mostly calmed down by now. His emotions had been riled up quite a lot just now, but as The Scripture continued explaining, he slowly returned to normal.

Sitting opposite The Scripture, he listened attentively. His disinterest lingered in the back of his mind, but he knew better than to give in to it.

Even if there turned out to be no hope for him to ever find purpose again, he needed to know these things.

If not for himself, at least for Dorian's sake.

"She is a disease. A tyrant. But no one can blame her for it."

"Why? Cause she's God?" Gilgamesh said with a cold snort.

"Nope," The Scripture sighed, "cause she's on a level no one else is supposed to be able to reach. It's easier to blame yourself than blame someone that you can't even hope to reach."

"Isn't that right?"

Seeing the way The Scripture was looking at him, Gilgamesh shook his head and averted his gaze. "In my case, I AM the only one to blame. There's no excuse."

The Scripture frowned. "Perhaps."

"Anyway, there's more you need to know."

"Like I said before, I filtered the many ideas floating around in my memory before writing them into one specific character. That character came to be when God got bored one time and decided to see what would happen if a being that could challenge her was born."

"When she wrote that being into an isolated reality, much like she did to you, she saw their potential."

"Just as you were only as perfect as that isolated Bookspace could allow, that being was only as powerful as their isolated reality could allow."

"However, God saw the potential in them. She saw the Writing change before Her eyes, and saw a future that I was not privy to."

"But aren't you The Scripture? Isn't that future a part of your memory?"

The Scripture gave a wry smile and a shake of the head, "It isn't. I may be The Scripture, but I cannot write nor read myself. I am only privy to the knowledge of ideas that come to be or are erased from me."

"I can nurture the natures and characters I am used to create, but I can do little more. Without her input, I am just a glorified dictionary."

"Luckily, I am free to use any idea that she has abandoned- and I can do so while remaining completely undetected."

The Scripture raised a hand and touched Dorian's face.

"In case you didn't guess, Dorian is the embodiment of God's idea. He is her short-lived desire for a challenger made physical."

"On top of that, I granted him a boon while he was still just a formless concept. I held him within The Womb of The Scripture, and took great care in crafting him."

"He is my cure-all. My chosen son. My greatest story."

Gilgamesh nodded, "His desire to reach to her level... it's his nature, isn't it?"

The Scripture nodded with a smile.

"Indeed it is. He will desire to challenge her regardless of any outside input. I assumed it would go unchanged, but I sensed the change a short while ago."

"I had to know whether it was you that caused it, so I rushed our meeting just a bit."

Gilgamesh furrowed his brows and gave The Scripture a questioning look.

"In case you forgot, you are similar to Dorian in a sense. He is the embodiment of her idea for a challenge; you are the embodiment of her idea of perfection."

"You could not be your true self within that isolated reality, but here your nature will begin to shine through. Thankfully, you changed after what She put through."

"If you hadn't, Dorian would never have trusted you. I made sure of that."

Realizing what The Scripture meant, Gilgamesh's eyes widened a bit. "So it was you that appeared to him in his dreams. You took my form."

"I did. The moment you were written into my memory, I was interested in your perfect potential. I took great care to ensure you and Dorian would meet. It was no easy feat to manipulate events without actually altering the course of the many stories being written."

"I almost can't believe it worked."

Gilgamesh soon came to understand more and more of The Scripture's plan.

For a time, he felt happy to have come to know all that he knew now, but there was a bitterness that lingered in the back of his mind regardless.

It poked at him, questioning.

'Why do you even care? Are you even going to do anything about it? Do you even want to?'

He sighed. He did care, because even if he feared God with every fiber of his being, he could not forget Her.

Would he do something about it if he was able to? He did not know for sure, but he knew that he would never stand aside and let it all happen to him again.

But he could not decide what he wanted to do. He did not know if he wanted anything at all anymore.

'What's the point in trying to fight God? Think about it. Even if there's hope, it won't matter. This is God's world. She made the rules, and she can easily change them.'

'This is pointless. You are nothing in her eyes.'

Gilgamesh sighed suddenly, and The Scripture stopped its rambling to look him in the eyes.

It saw the brightness fade from them, and it paused for a moment before smiling.

"You are the 11th Draft of the Idea of Gilgamesh. Her taint on you was strong. It had to be."

"She knew that if she wrote a character whose entire character was based on perfection, she had to find a way to impose a flaw."

"She did that when She wrote your identity, and for all your life it was the only thing holding you back."

"What do you think God would do when your perfection eventually allowed you to discard the very character She gave you?"

"She had to find a way to taint you. To make you flawed once again."

Gilgamesh's pupils quivered; he covered his face with his hands as shivers slowly gripped him.

"You know how she did it. You know that these dark thoughts and feelings aren't really your own."

Gilgamesh's teeth chattered. For some reason, the thoughts that The Scripture was inspiring him to think were making him feel weak and debilitated.

He felt sick, like he was on the verge of death.

"She implanted in you the most powerful kind of poison, because She knew that you were beginning to come into your own as a perfect being."

"She made you immortal, so that you would overlook your own uniqueness, and instead wallow further in self-pity and depression."

Gilgamesh nestled his face in between his knees and covered his ears. He couldn't stand hearing The Scripture's words.

"Sigh. Why do you cling so tightly to those feelings? Has Ateah's death left such a deep scar on your heart that you do not even wish to forgive yourself?"

At the mention of that name, Gilgamesh winced before a flaming rage welled up inside him. He raised his head to glare at The Scripture, but faltered when he saw its expectant and amused gaze.

"You're angry because you are unwilling to let go. You cling to the past because it forces you to remember what you did. You think it's a better alternative than ever forgiving yourself for it."

"But you're wrong."

"I bet you're asking yourself what's the point of even going against someone like God. I bet you don't even know what it is you want to do."

"You don't even realize that you've already begun building an indentity for that stainless soul of yours."

"You don't even realizen that you're letting Her win, yet again."

Gilgamesh shivered, as if freezing. Dazed, he listened to The Scripture as he felt himself losing his grip.

He was slowly fading away from the Dreamscape.

"I cannot influence you like She did, else I'd take every action to strike that depression from your soul."

"All I can do is make you think, and hope that you make the write choice this time."

"This time...?" Gilgamesh managed, in a weak voice.

"This time, you can prevent yourself from playing the part of a simple creation. You can take charge of your story, and make a decision untainted by Her influence."

You want to know what the point is? Then I'll tell you."

"I'll tell you why even God's inherent nature desires to go against her."

"She may be God, but the stories she writes do not belong to her. She can do what she wishes to do with her characters, but the story is still theirs."

Gilgamesh's vision blurred as cracks began to form in his perception. Before he departed for the real world, he heard The Scripture's parting words.

"She does not belong. She never will. No story will ever be free as long as she remains."

...

Gilgamesh woke on the grassy hillside, gasping for air as if he had been deep underwater.

When he came to, Dorian was excitedly smiling at his side.

"You're finally awake? What happened? Is it an immortal thing?"

Gilgamesh's felt the melancholy carrying over from his dream, so he fought as hard as he could to keep his emotions in check, holding his tears at bay.

Dorian noticed something was off, but Gilgamesh was on his feet before the boy could ascertain anything else from his expressions.

Those words echoed in the depths of his soul, where they would likely continue to echo forever.

'...no story will ever be free as long as she remains...'