"Tiamat… has arrived!"
The scene remained that Imaginary Space above Mesopotamia—an interlayer between worlds.
The Heavenly Realm once woven from the gods' Authorities had long since vanished, yet a faint glimmer still lingered there, shining like sunlight.
Upon his golden chariot, the sun god Shamash stood tall.
Thanks to Rovi's aid, this god, who now embodied the future's judicial authority, possessed the power to carve out a foothold even within Imaginary Space. Not because his strength had truly grown, but because he now wielded the Authority of Legislation.
To legislate was to define a domain—to make existence itself real.
Thus, even as the other gods fell, Shamash remained steadfast.
Of course, not all the Mesopotamian gods had perished. Shamash's father, the old Moon God Nanna, and the all-knowing goddess Rimat-Ninsun had willingly accepted the fading of their divinity, choosing not to oppose Rovi.
They, too, had kept watch at this boundary, waiting for the true crisis to come.
And now—
That crisis had arrived.
From a time unimaginably ancient, from the dawn of the star's formation, Tiamat—the Primordial Sea of Chaos, exiled by the gods to the deepest depths of Imaginary Number Space—was returning to reality.
"We can't hold back the Primordial Goddess…" Shamash murmured, lowering his gaze. Even from afar, her vastness and terror pressed against his senses.
He decided at once:
Delay her as long as possible.
If she couldn't be held, then retreat—immediately.
Or, as that Sage would put it, make a "tactical withdrawal."
Still, after a brief pause, Shamash sent a message to Rovi first.
"At this point, the only one who can truly face the Primordial Godess—Tiamat is the Sage Rovi himself—the bearer of the Sword of Rupture—Ea, an Authority older even than the Primordial."
...
Meanwhile, in reality, on the plains of Mesopotamia, in the city-state of Uruk.
Rovi stared intently at the curse left behind by the vanished gods.
The once-azure sky was now darkened by a tide of chaotic black mud, thick with malice. It dripped downward like stalactites—already close, almost upon him.
Everyone held their breath.
Enkidu, Ishtar—even Ereshkigal, hidden deep within the Netherworld—lifted their heads, sensing it.
"Rovi."
Gilgamesh had just dragged himself up after falling from the sky. His scarlet eyes flashed coldly. "You understand the price of deceiving this king, don't you?"
You promised you'd survive.
"Hmph—hahaha…"
Rovi laughed softly. "You golden prick, since when did you start worrying so much?"
"A stray dog truly never stops barking—"
"And you never stop stinking up the place, Goldie!"
Rovi snorted. "Relax. I wouldn't lie about something like this."
He reached out toward the swirling black mud, fingers spread.
He felt… moved.
He felt… excited.
Moved, because after all his struggle, this was the end he had worked toward. Excited, because—finally—his goal was within reach.
His palm extended. The rolling malice, as if recognizing its destined master, suddenly—
Slurp.
—vanished.
Gone.
Yanked abruptly back into the sky like a taut string of nylon.
Then it writhed, trying desperately to crawl back into Imaginary Space through the closing rift.
Rovi: "?"
Was it the curse that was weird, or him?
Before he could even think, a voice echoed from beyond the world.
"Sage Rovi, it is I, the Sun God Shamash. There is something you must know—"
You might as well introduce yourself as 'Saflin', Rovi thought dryly, but he stayed silent and listened.
He already knew this strange reaction from the gods' curse had to be connected to what Shamash was about to say.
"You know well what we gods have always feared.
"The Primordial Goddess we betrayed and exiled—she returns. Her goal is to unmake this world, restoring it to its original form.
"And now, Tiamat—"
"Has arrived."
The voice faded. Shamash's presence vanished.
Rovi blinked, stunned.
Above, the curse of the gods shrank back even further—clearly terrified.
Since it was born from the gods' lingering resentment, it still carried their consciousness. Naturally, it feared what they had once feared.
Tiamat—the dread that haunted even the divine.
Rovi turned his gaze to the horizon.
The sky was still blue.
Mountains and seas still shone with calm clarity.
Tiamat was near, but according to Shamash, she could still be delayed, if only for a while.
After all, Shamash, who now carried the Authorities of the future, ranked among the chief gods.
A broad category, yes—but enough to stand against the Primordial, if only for a moment.
Rovi sneered up at the shrinking cluster of black mud fading from sight. "Pathetic. Even dead, you still know fear?"
Pure disdain.
Even the dead were cowards?
Ridiculous.
He drew in a long breath and looked around.
Gilgamesh, Enkidu, and the others wore the same puzzled expressions, but said nothing.
Because they had already decided to trust him.
Because they had already entrusted the weight of the world to him.
If the mountain wouldn't come to him, he'd go to the mountain. If the curse wouldn't descend, he'd claim it himself.
Rovi lifted his hand.
Soft glimmers floated into his palm.
The shadow of the Key of Heaven flickered.
A gate opened—straight to the retreating curse. Black mud surged forth—and poured over him.
Someone had to bear this curse.
Rovi wouldn't let anyone else take that burden.
As for what came next…
He'd handle it later.
He closed his eyes as the black mud engulfed him, seeping into his body—
Thump, thump, thump!
His heart convulsed violently.
An indescribable rush swept through him.
For a moment, it felt as if mountains and seas bloomed within his chest.
For a moment, the entire world seemed to unfold inside his consciousness.
He drifted toward the Primordial—
A death purer than even the Netherworld's passage brushed against him.
Rovi opened his eyes again.
"Cough, cough…" He coughed lightly, glancing at Gilgamesh, Enkidu, and Ishtar-Rin, who were staring in alarm. A faint smile touched his lips. "Managed to suppress it—barely."
He hadn't died.
Just as expected.
The gods' curse was powerful—but not enough to destroy the Sword of Rupture outright.
Still, Rovi knew the truth.
At this moment, his life had begun its countdown.
Ea's power came from the Creator God—but it wasn't the god Ia itself. It couldn't protect him completely.
He stood at the edge of death—alive for now, but fated to die.
As Ziusudra once said—
Rovi had written his own "Heavenly Fate."
---
T/N: hmmm trying no highlights
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