A silent, triumphant roar echoed within the deepest chambers of Rowe's soul, a culmination of his singular, lifelong desire. To live a life of glorious defiance and to die a hero's death—spectacular, meaningful, and etched into legend. To be remembered as a hero, not a pitiful clown.
"Damn it... you reckless mongrel... you fool!" Gilgamesh gritted his teeth, the veins on his forehead bulging from the strain of trying to divert a force that had already gained its own catastrophic momentum.
"Rowe...!" A flush of desperate exertion colored Enkidu's delicate features, her own power rebelling against her will to protect him.
In unison, they pulled back with all their might, their divine and heroic spirits clashing against the physics of destruction they had set into motion. But it was futile. They could only watch, their hearts sinking, as the earth-shattering energies—the golden rain from heaven and the verdant surge from the earth—continued their deadly convergence, inching closer and closer to Rowe, who stood resolute at the epicenter.
The gods, peering down from their celestial perch with detached curiosity, still could not comprehend it. Was this mortal truly unafraid of death? What manner of man could face oblivion with such unwavering resolve?
And then, in that infinitely compressed moment before impact, an invisible tremor resonated through the space.
Buzz...
A violent hum emanated from Rowe's very core. A stream of brilliant, golden light erupted from his body, not as an attack, but as a release. It was like a sealed kettle exploding under immense internal pressure, the light seeping out thread by thread from every pore beneath his black uniform. This radiance coalesced in the air before him, solidifying into the shimmering, intricate form of a 'key'—the Key of the Heavens.
The divine artifact bestowed upon him by the gods, which he had kept concealed within his spiritual core, was now forcibly projected outwards by the overwhelming pressure.
Rowe froze, his plan momentarily derailed by this unforeseen variable. Simultaneously, the observing gods stiffened in their distant realms.
This thing… it has a function like this?
Over the past seven days, Rowe had meticulously studied this divine artifact capable of bypassing the boundary between the human and celestial realms. He had probed its functions, seeking any advantage. But he had never discovered… that it possessed any kind of defensive capability!
However, realization dawned on him quickly.
The Key of the Heavens indeed had no defensive function in the conventional sense. The manifestation of the flowing light did not create a shield. Instead, it caused a profound shift within Rowe himself.
His entire body suddenly relaxed; the crushing, soul-rending pressure from the two colliding forces simply ceased to affect him. It was the ultimate adaptation. The Key allowed its wielder to exist without suppression in any environment, to move freely where others would be crushed. It was the ultimate passkey, not the ultimate shield.
It allowed him to adapt to the pressure, but it could not nullify the raw, physical damage of the impact. The distinction was critical. What was meant to kill him would still kill him.
He subconsciously breathed a sigh of relief. His plan was still on track.
But then he noticed it: a black mark, like a flaw in perfect jade, appearing on the projected form of the Key of Heaven.
Dirty?
No, that wasn't it.
A divine artifact of this caliber, jointly crafted by the pantheon, was flawless and could not be sullied by mere filth.
That was… a crack.
The Key of the Heavens was shattering.
A single, hairline fracture appeared at its center, and from that point, countless dark, spider-web-like fissures branched out, crisscrossing in a frantic, terrifying network. In the span of a heartbeat, the golden projection of the Key shuddered and then dissolved entirely, dissipating into a flurry of shimmering, ethereal sand.
Before Rowe could even process this development, a mysterious, torrential power suddenly surged within him. It was like highly concentrated, raw magical energy being forced directly into his circuits, an overwhelming flood that threatened to tear him apart from the inside. Acting on pure instinct, he reached out his hands and pressed his feet down, yielding to this inexplicable, violent sensation.
BOOM!
His hands met the descending golden power of the King, holding it back a mere inch from his palms. His feet pressed down upon the ascending verdant sharpness of the earth, halting its rise. With his own body, his own newfound strength, he physically separated the heavens and the earth on this ultimate battlefield. His posture was mythic, like a primordial deity from the age of creation, holding up the sky with one hand and steadying the earth with the other.
"Within this barking mongrel… there is such immense power?" Gilgamesh narrowed his eyes, a slow, intrigued smile unconsciously gracing his lips, his anger momentarily forgotten in sheer astonishment.
"Rowe. I knew it… you are definitely the strongest!" Enkidu exclaimed, her emerald eyes shining with excitement and pride.
Then, the subtle, telepathic exchanges of the gods reached Rowe's heightened senses.
'So that's how it is?!'
'He used the collision of the Chains of Heaven and the Wedge of Heaven as a forge, to shatter the [Key of the Heavens] within his body, and then…'
'He absorbed and assimilated the power contained within it, making it his own!'
'The Key of the Heavens is a divine construct of the same origin as the Chains of Heaven and the Wedge of Heaven. Only a catalyst of equivalent destructive force could achieve this transmutation!'
'No wonder he was so fearless in the face of death. This was his grand design all along!'
'This wisdom, this courage, this sheer audacity…!'
'We, the gods, were not mistaken… this is indeed a perfect 'pawn'!'
'A pawn that can now perfectly restrain the Wedge of Heaven!'
No, Rowe's thought cut through the divine chatter, his face an impassive mask. You are all profoundly and utterly mistaken.
He truly hadn't anticipated this outcome. His plan had been simple, elegant suicide-by-proxy, not… this.
Whatever 'this' was.
Forget it… he resigned himself with an internal sigh. It seems I can only accept my spectacularly bad luck this time.
With a pragmatism honed by countless failed attempts at martyrdom, Rowe quickly accepted the new, bewildering reality.
The unleashed power of the shattered Key of Heaven now circulated within him, a roaring torrent of celestial authority.
He instinctively knew that even if he stood completely passive, the combined forces of the Chains and the Wedge could no longer harm him, let alone achieve his original goal of a glorious death. He had become, for all intents and purposes, untouchable by them.
Just as Gilgamesh was the Wedge and Enkidu was the Chains, Rowe, having fully merged with its essence, could now be called the 'Key of Heaven' itself. He was no longer merely its wielder; he was its embodiment. The gods themselves could no longer reclaim what was now an intrinsic part of his being.
The ability it granted him had evolved. It was no longer mere 'adaptation.' It had become 'Opening' and 'Closing'—the fundamental concepts of access and denial.
He could treat all things, all phenomena, as doors. When 'Closed,' it could form an immensely powerful barrier, blocking most attacks of a caliber below or even equivalent to the Key itself.
Currently, the 'door' of his existence was wide open, the state into which the catastrophic collision had forced it. He was not yet skilled enough to control its use, much less consciously 'Close' it.
Then, a new resolve, born of frustration and a deep-seated annoyance at the gods' condescension, began to crystallize within him.
"Worry is useless, and regret is even more so," Rowe murmured to himself, his voice barely a whisper yet carrying a newfound weight.
He knew he couldn't die now. And anyway, death would eventually come for him, one way or another. Since he couldn't settle the score with the heavens through his planned demise, perhaps he could make a different kind of statement right now.
Why not try to… 'die a big death' in a metaphorical sense? To make an impact so loud it would shake the very foundations of the divine realm.
He stopped resisting the surging power within him. Instead, he fully embraced it, channeling it outward. Brilliant, shimmering ripples erupted from his form, their golden hue gradually shifting and refining into a purer, silvery-white luminescence. And then, he reached out. He drew upon the powers adjacent to his own—the stabilizing force of the Wedge of Heaven and the binding essence of the Chains of Heaven, calling for their aid.
Seeing Rowe's previous, self-sacrificial attempt to stop their fight, both Enkidu and Gilgamesh had realized it was a tragic misunderstanding; they were not destined enemies. And now, feeling his sincere call resonate within their very cores, they naturally did not refuse.
"Rowe," Enkidu said, her voice soft yet filled with unwavering conviction as she lowered her gaze. "No matter what you wish to do, I will follow closely behind you."
In sync with that pull, she unleashed the full, unbridled might of the Chains of Heaven. She didn't know his precise intention, but the initial, instinctual familiarity had long since transformed, over seven days of companionship, into absolute trust.
"Rowe? Interesting!" Gilgamesh was momentarily taken aback.
The King, standing tall upon his Vimana, looked down at the faint, silvery glow enveloping Rowe's body. From it, he sensed a profound and mysterious resonance—a connection of the same origin, the same essence.
The bond between the Wedge of Heaven and the Key of Heaven. Though he could not deduce the exact chain of events, Gilgamesh, possessing the highest level of clairvoyance, Sha Naqba Imuru, vaguely glimpsed the intent behind Rowe's action. It was not a plan, but a declaration.
And it made him burst into booming laughter.
"Hmph hahaha…! Can a barking mongrel also harbor such magnificent resolve? Interesting! Too interesting!" he roared, his earlier fury replaced by exhilaration. "Then, this King shall, for the sake of this unparalleled ambition, respond to your plea—!"
Like Rowe, he spread his hands, a gesture of release and contribution.
"Look up to the sky, and break through the boundaries!" Gilgamesh commanded.
"That is only natural," Rowe responded, his voice calm yet firm.
He closed his eyes, centering himself, and then opened them again. His pupils had transformed, taking on the distinct, intricate shape of a key. His entire body became a conduit for a terrifying torrent of power.
The distinct energies of the Wedge of Heaven and the Chains of Heaven converged upon him, the Key, swirling together into a brilliant, three-stage spiral of incandescent light before erupting outwards in a unified, world-shaking blast.
'What is he doing now?' a divine thought-voice whispered, laced with sudden uncertainty.
'…The three pawns, uniting? Their power resonates…'
'This collective energy is indeed immense, worthy of being the tools we created… If we can further harness and direct this, our rule over humanity's faith could be secured for another millennium!'
The gods continued to observe, their calculations still rooted in cold utility. But in this moment, they failed to comprehend what Gilgamesh had already perceived. Rowe's goal was, in fact, stunningly simple.
He was using the Wedge of Heaven as the path, the Chains of Heaven as the guiding thread, and his own body, the 'Key of Heaven,' as the catalyst. He was uniting all three to achieve a power that transcended their individual boundaries.
With this unified force, he would roar at the firmament. He would shake the very foundations of the high heavens where the observing, manipulative gods resided.
This time, it wasn't because he wanted to die.
It was because those distant, arrogant deities in the heavens regarded them as nothing more than tools to control humanity. They called them pawns, one after another, with cold, condescending malice.
And now, he would deliver their collective response. He would tell them, with a voice woven from the very powers they had created to control destiny…
To hell with your pawns!
We are people!
Living, breathing, and defiantly free people!