Forged by the Mesopotamian gods, Gilgamesh possessed an intellect far beyond mortals to begin with. Over the thousand years he had reigned over the Netherworld—judging and passing sentence at the boundary of death—his experience had only swelled into something vast.
Talent and lived knowledge fused into one. It let him see through many things. And after ages of turning the past over and over in his mind, he finally understood what Rovi's many unusual actions had been pointing to.
Rovi might be seeking death on purpose.
Embracing total annihilation.
"Not bad, Gil. Turns out you've got a brain, not just a foul mouth." Rovi didn't stint on the "praise," nor did he deny Gilgamesh's guess.
He climbed the steps and paced to the seat that had once been his, settling down.
"Hmph. Save the extra words. I'm not interested," Gilgamesh said coldly. He knew Rovi had his reasons for keeping that secret, so he wouldn't pry.
Then he added, "If you're hoping to use the Netherworld's miasma to finish the job, I advise you to give up."
"Unless you plan to squat in the Netherworld for several hundred years—with nothing going wrong during that time."
In the grand hall of Uruk's palace, drifting light and towering pillars carried the Hero-King's voice.
With Rovi's current vitality, to strip away the last living shell of his soul, enter a complete death-state, and reach the Throne of Heroes on nothing but a core of essence would indeed take centuries in the Netherworld.
"I won't stop you from dying," Gilgamesh continued. "You're a wild dog who does as he pleases, but I trust my own eye. Whatever you're doing, you've got your plans."
"But dying like this—don't you find it unbearably dull?"
"You're looking to stir trouble again?" Rovi raised a brow.
"Bwahahaha! I'm only seeking amusement in my own courtyard!" Gilgamesh waved a hand, then his expression sharpened. "And besides—Uruk, the Uruk I rule, ought to return to the path it was meant to walk. It shouldn't rot forever in this barren, shattered underworld."
"I've decided Greece will do nicely."
Gilgamesh wanted the people of Uruk to return to the surface.
But Uruk was gone.
So it would have to change its face—emerge before the world as a brand-new civilization.
"So that's the plan." Understanding dawned on Rovi, and there was no mistaking it—his heart stirred.
If Uruk were moved back to the living world, its sheer mass would overturn Greece—perhaps even replace it outright, a swap so brazen it bordered on stealing heaven itself.
To do that, they'd have to either fight the gods… or pull the Greek gods to their side with everything they had.
For Gilgamesh, either was fine. Struggling against gods had always been his kind of fun. And more than that—it was what a king should do.
He had led Uruk into the Netherworld, but at the proper time, he should also lead his people back.
That was the world a king bore. The judgment a king delivered.
"The gods of the Netherworld are mine to handle," Gilgamesh said, face solemn. "But this time, I entrust the burdens of heaven and the world of men to you, my friend!"
"Just say you can't go up there." Rovi glanced aside. "Relax. I won't laugh."
"Mongr—how dare you!" Gilgamesh flared. "It's not that I can't—it's that I disdain to set foot in the living world with a dead man's body! If I return, it will be in perfect form, that my radiance may—"
"So you can't go up there."
"…"
Watching Gilgamesh choke on his own words, Rovi cracked up. "Don't worry. I'll help you out, kid."
"Fuck—" Gilgamesh snapped, for once letting the profanity slip.
But he was reassured.
Only by "handling" the Greek gods could such a sleight-of-hand be pulled off.
And only Rovi—his friend—could be entrusted with something this enormous.
Rovi agreed readily, because it meant he might be able to clash with the omnipotent god-machine Zeus directly and step straight into absolute death—without waiting centuries.
Centuries always carried too many chances for something to go wrong.
Gilgamesh's plan had risks too, but at least… the odds were better. And it would be spectacular.
This trip into the Netherworld—maybe this was the greatest harvest of all.
If it failed, he could always crawl back down here.
"Still... not yet. Let me rest for a bit first," Rovi said suddenly.
He needed time to acclimate to the higher scale of power he'd just gained, and more importantly, to master operating the second-generation machine gods. If they were going to pull something that big, he needed to sharpen himself as much as possible.
Maybe he could even cripple Zeus.
Forge an even greater feat.
And before all that—this was a long-awaited reunion. He needed to actually spend time with his friend.
"Come on. Let's see if your vocabulary's gotten any bigger."
It was night, in a familiar old courtyard.
"Bwahahaha! A mere wild dog thinks I haven't improved? I am the radiant and sacred sovereign of all things—how could you possibly measure me?"
"Tch. Anyone can talk big. If you're so radiant and sacred, why're you hiding in the Netherworld? If you've got guts? Go up there."
...
The same layout, the same buildings. Near the Uruk palace in the underworld, even the courtyard where Rovi had once lived still existed.
Or rather, it wasn't "similar."
It was the same one.
Gilgamesh had brought all of Uruk into the Netherworld.
So now, Siduri stood off to the side, forcing down the helpless expression on her face as she watched the two of them trade insults like children.
The Netherworld was eternally dark and deep, but above Uruk there was a suspended light.
The King's treasury hung overhead, its rippling radiance brilliant as sun and moon.
Rovi swirled his cup. "Looks like you really did learn some new words…"
"My progress is beyond your comprehension!" Gilgamesh cackled.
Then, as if remembering something, his voice cooled. "But you—when you set out again, if you dare defy my command one more time, I will not be merciful. Even if you flee to the edge of the sea of stars, I will find you and deliver the greatest judgment upon you!"
Rovi spread his hands. "This time I'm going to Greece. Don't interfere with anything. I'll be fine—"
Just like back then.
Back then…
"Hmph. I hope you don't disappoint me again."
Gilgamesh didn't refuse. A friend was someone you trusted completely. No matter how long they'd been apart, time could not erode Gilgamesh's will.
"…Honestly. Sending a sharp-nosed wild dog to sniff this kind of thing out really is perfect."
"Bwahahaha!"
His laughter rang bright with satisfaction.
The King would hold the city. The Sage would roam the world.
The three would meet again.
Just like before.
But this time, the King had decided: he would not lose them again.
...
The Sage stepped into death's realm and met the King of old. Ghostlight stretched far, illuminating the shadow of a once-magnificent civilization—an ancient nation that had unified the four corners of the world, with all eight directions bowing in submission, now sleeping here.
The King said: I will make our radiance shine upon the human world once more.
The Sage said: I can help you carve open the world between heaven and man.
The King said again: you and I will be as we once were.
The Sage said again: all things ultimately return to the cycle.
Dim light flickered. King and Sage set their plan in stone.
They would lift up the glory of an ancient civilization—and they would bring Greece a brand-new fire and light.
—Greek Mythology: The Sage in the Netherworld
...
In the days that followed, aside from daily planning and plotting with Gilgamesh, Rovi sank wholly into familiarizing himself with his newly acquired power.
A vast, cool machine to pilot—every man's dream. Rovi was no exception.
When he manifested that colossal Machine-God form, the sheer sense of strength welling up from within left him deeply satisfied.
Cronus's body wasn't on Zeus's newer, upgraded level—but at its peak, it had been classified as a "planetary-extermination mobile fortress," an interstellar flagship. After being devoured by Rovi, its power had fallen, but its essence had not changed, and its massive firepower remained.
And even in the Machine-God state, Rovi could still wield the authority of the primal stellar rotation of the Ia god. The two didn't conflict—they stacked.
So under Gilgamesh's rule, the Netherworld often saw a colossal machine god soaring over the underworld, metal-woven wings beating a scarlet storm. Gears turned; a steel fist drove forward—each punch tearing the air, shaking the space around the very stars.
Power that could rival a God-King made the deep underworld tremble.
Gilgamesh stood high atop the palace, watching Rovi from afar, snake-like eyes narrowing.
"Lord Rovi… got stronger," Siduri breathed in awe.
"That is only natural," Gilgamesh said with arms folded, utterly unconcerned. "My friend should be this strong."
As lord of the underworld, his own progress over nearly a thousand years is slightly less, if not match Rovi's.
...
Time flowed. Half a month in the Netherworld vanished in a blink.
Rovi grew proficient at switching between Machine-God and human form.
During this time, Hades visited several times. Each time Rovi left him speechless, and each time the God-King of the Netherworld wore a look of sudden enlightenment.
He invited Rovi to visit the Greek Netherworld.
Rovi accepted.
No matter what, if he intended to return to the living world, he would need to go up through the Greek underworld under Hades's control.
So, half a month later…
Hades sent an escort to fetch Rovi.
Rovi didn't actually need an escort, but it was a matter of ceremony.
Ceremony between two "Netherworlds."
And what arrived was a name renowned in Greek lands.
Cerberus, the hound of hell.
Along with a pack of underworld Phantasmal Beasts that served under the three-headed dog.
Their mission: ensure Rovi reached Hades's temple safely.
However—
"Why is it a husky?" Outside Uruk, Rovi's eyes widened as he stared at the dog panting at him with its tongue out, wearing a dopey expression.
That stark black-and-white coat—wasn't this exactly what later generations called a Siberian husky?
"You're the Sage Rovi that Lord Hades mentioned?" Cerberus yapped.
"You don't look like much. Little arms, little legs. Lord Hades said you've got wisdom beyond the gods, but your head's so small. My head in my true form is bigger than half of you. How do you even fit that much stuff in there?"
"This road's dangerous, but don't worry! With me, Cerberus, around, no underworld beast dares get close. I'm Lord Hades's subordinate, after all—one of the Greek three God-Kings' subordinate gods…"
This dog talked. A lot.
The moment they left Uruk, it chattered without pause.
Rovi cast a sidelong glance at the deep, shadowy scenery of the Netherworld, confirmed they'd already left the territory controlled by Gilgamesh, and only then looked back at the "three-headed hellhound."
"If I go missing, what will Hades do to you?"
"He'll stew me!" Cerberus kept trotting along with its tongue out, bouncing like an idiot. "But don't worry! I'm the three-headed hellhound—no scent can escape my nose, I won't lose you—uh? Where'd you go?"
As it talked, its voice shrank smaller and smaller, because there was no one beside it anymore.
Rovi was gone.
"Woof? Woof-woof? Where is he?" The husky-like hellhound scratched at the ground, claws scoring the hard underworld floor.
"Come out, woof-woof-woof… Sage Rovi, come out! I don't wanna get stewed, woof-woof-woof!"
But in the end, it only dug up a few words:
"Remember to save me a bowl of dog soup." —Rovi
"FUCK!" Cerberus barked, furious.
I might not be human, but you're really something else!
And then the consequences hit it—and the dog started shaking.
A visit from a big shot in the neighboring Netherworld was like a high-ranking official traveling between great powers.
If that official vanished mid-visit… regardless of reason, it would cause an uproar.
"I'm dead, aren't I? I'm really gonna get stewed, aren't I?"
With Hades's "honest" temperament, he might actually do it!
Cerberus clutched its head with its paws and shook hard.
There was no doubt: Rovi had slipped away on purpose.
That had been his plan from the start—to use this "diplomatic visit" to shake the escort and re-enter Greek territory.
There was no way he was going to see Hades. Right now he was terrified the God-King would pull a Poseidon and slap him with some "promise" he couldn't toggle on and off.
As for Cerberus, Rovi didn't feel much of anything.
It was a god of the Netherworld, after all. It wouldn't die.
In the deep, dark land, once Cerberus had gone far enough away, Rovi drew a deep breath and tilted his head up.
He closed his eyes, sensing the "Key" he'd left in the living world.
From here, he would return to the surface through that Key.
In an instant, it felt like plunging into a chaotic current. Rovi's consciousness tore across time and space.
It moved, didn't it?
Rovi opened his eyes blankly. He glanced at the silver-haired, red-eyed goddess clinging to his arm, then swept his gaze over the hazy figures around them.
Divine radiance flared. Gods stood within a magnificent hall, as though fighting over something.
"Rovi—you're back?!" Athena's eyes lit up with joy. "Hurry! Tell these damn goddesses you belong to me! They don't get to covet you!"
"The Sage of wisdom who once scolded Ishtar, Mesopotamia's goddess of beauty, for 'not understanding beauty'—even if he's merely human, if he is a symbol of the world's greatest beauty, I won't give him up," a beautiful red-haired goddess said with a smile, contempt for humans dripping from every word. "And Athena—do you really think this will make me back down?"
"Aphrodite!" Athena snapped.
"Athena, calm down." A black-haired goddess in a white dress—shaped like a young maiden—tugged at Athena's sleeve.
"Hestia, are you trying to stop me from defending my love too?"
"But you're a virgin goddess…"
"I'm not anymore!"
Listening to the utterly incomprehensible argument at his ear, Rovi looked to the heavens. In an instant, he understood where he was.
Mount Olympus.
He—or rather, the Key he'd left behind—had apparently become the target of a goddess free-for-all.
Something that could make goddesses fight like this… in Rovi's memory, there was only one thing.
The "Golden Apple" that sparked the Trojan War.
Which meant…
My Key of Heaven… replaced the Golden Apple?!