IBHJ 1000

Gilgamesh dismembered Demonic Bodhisattva into seventy-seven pieces, categorized them, and sealed them in special containers before tossing them into his Gate of Babylon.

As he moved to seal her head, Demonic Bodhisattva made a desperate bid for escape. With her remaining power, she manifested a black hole below her severed neck to engulf her own head, causing it to vanish into thin air.

"Hmph, fleeing to Imaginary Space?" Gilgamesh sneered, but made no move to pursue her.

The truth was, he'd only managed to defeat her so easily due to Demonic Bodhisattva's initial mistake. She had confused him with Chaldea's Gilgamesh, leaving her unprepared for his fighting style. This oversight allowed him to land several fatal blows. Had she known his capabilities, the battle would have been far less one-sided and considerably longer.

With Demonic Bodhisattva's retreat, the young man exhaled in relief. He approached Gilgamesh with a grateful smile. "Thank you, Archer."

Gilgamesh gave him a sidelong glance. "Your gratitude is misplaced."

"What do you mean?"

"The one you should thank is yourself, or rather, your future self."

The young man's eyes widened in surprise. "My future self?"

Gilgamesh retrieved a lump of deep black mud from his Gate of Babylon and tossed it at the young man's feet.

"What's that?"

"It's your future self's Noble Phantasm," Gilgamesh explained. "It somehow ended up on my scabbard earlier. That's how I knew you were in danger. You should have some on you as well."

Alarmed, the young man frantically patted himself down, frowning. "I don't see anything like that on me."

"It's right here—" Gilgamesh's voice carried a hint of exasperation as he plucked the glasses from the young man's face. He pointed to the edge of the frame.

Squinting, the young man leaned closer. There, nestled in the groove of the frame, was a tiny speck of black mud. To the untrained eye, it would have looked like nothing more than ordinary dirt.

"When did he put this on my glasses?" The young man was puzzled and alarmed. He hadn't noticed Shirou planting this mud on his glasses!

"He did it when he helped you retrieve your glasses," Gilgamesh clarified. "And this mud on me was left behind when he was swept away."

"Could it be... that he deliberately let himself be taken by Manaka?" The young man was shocked.

Gilgamesh nodded. "It would seem so."

"But why?" The young man was completely baffled.

Gilgamesh snorted. "Most likely to investigate the truth about this distorted past and to deal with Manaka."

"Facing Manaka alone?" The young man shook his head. "That's reckless. What makes him so confident?"

Gilgamesh glanced at the young man. "Your future self is... different from who you are now."

"I know we're different," the young man frowned. "Our thoughts, our methods... but surely he understands the value of strength in numbers?"

A sneer curled Gilgamesh's lip. "No matter how many ants gather, they're still just ants. Do you think numbers matter to someone who can connect to the Root?"

"Well..." The young man hesitated.

"The point is," Gilgamesh emphasized, "he is different from you."

"I know we're different!" The young man felt a pang of jealousy. Being repeatedly reminded that he wasn't as good as someone else, even if it was his future self, still stung.

Gilgamesh grunted. "However," he added, "I knew about his little mud-hiding trick all along."

The young man gave him a dubious look. Anyone could make that claim after the fact.

"You don't believe me?" Gilgamesh asked, feeling his pride prickle. While he hadn't actually noticed the mud, he couldn't possibly admit that. How else could he maintain his reputation as the strongest?

"Of course I believe you," the young man replied, his face showing exaggerated sincerity.

Gilgamesh saw right through the act. The young man hadn't been fooled for a second, and the realization left him feeling strangely deflated.

Eager to change the subject, the young man said, "I should check on Mordred and the others." He hurried back to where he'd left them, feeling relieved as he found them only unconscious, not seriously injured from Demonic Bodhisattva's attack.

"Speaking of which, where did Tethys disappear to? I tried calling her earlier, but she didn't respond," young Fujimaru grumbled.

Gilgamesh raised a hand and pointed at the young man's right shoulder.

Young Fujimaru glanced down and let out a startled yelp. There, perched on his shoulder, was a tiny Barbie doll no bigger than his palm. Despite being a child's toy, the doll gave off a vague sense of elegance and nobility in its Disney-style princess gown.

"Gah!" He flinched, instinctively brushing the doll off his shoulder. It tumbled to the ground with a soft thud.

The doll sprang to its feet, its plastic limbs moving with surprising fluidity. "Fujimaru Shirou!" it exclaimed, its tiny voice filled with indignation. "What are you doing? Is that any way to treat a lady?"

"I should be the one asking you that!" He pinched the bridge of his nose, exasperated. "How many times have I told you not to sneak up on me like that? You nearly gave me a heart attack!"

Tethys hovered in the air, her tiny plastic hands on her hips. "You called me, and now you're blaming me? You're really... really... um? What was that word you used before? Ah, never mind. Anyway, you made me land on my royal bottom, so you owe me compensation. Come now, accept my magnificent power and become a champion of love and justice!" She twirled dramatically in mid-air.

The young man nodded. "Fine, I accept."

"I didn't expect you to refuse again. Hmph, you really don't understand— Wait! What?"

Tethys froze, then shrieked in surprise. "Eh? You actually accepted!? Are you feeling alright? This isn't like you at all! Are you sick?" Her miniature hand pressed against his forehead. "No fever..."

The young man's face darkened. He brushed her hand away and glared at the Barbie doll.

This was Tethys, the primordial fairy of British legend, the very creator of Avalon. Even Gilgamesh, who typically treated everyone with disdain, showed her a degree of respect. But in truth, she was nothing more than a clingy Barbie doll.

His mind drifted back to their first encounter eight years ago. He'd been just a fresh elementary school kid in Kobe City, Hyogo Prefecture, when Tethys had made her grand entrance. One night, she appeared, possessing a Barbie doll his mother had bought specifically to tease him. She went on and on about him inheriting her power and such.

But the young man, wise beyond his years due to numerous setbacks and the price paid for gullibility in society, simply rolled his eyes at her words, which sounded suspiciously like something Kyubey would say. So, he'd done what any sensible kid would do: he ignored her completely. As a result, this legendary fairy had been stuck to him ever since, following him from Kobe City to Shinjuku for eight long years.

He took a deep breath, his expression turning serious. "Things have changed. I'm ready for your power now."

She hesitated, then shook her head. "No. I won't give it to you."

"No?" the young man was completely bewildered. "But... why?"

She crossed her arms. "How annoying, I said I won't give it, so I won't. Why so many questions?"

Eight years ago, she might have agreed. But now... now she was unwilling.

He rubbed his temples, frustrated and confused. He couldn't force her; it was her power, after all. Besides, if he was truly destined to be the Eternal King, wouldn't that power become his eventually?

There was no need to rush. And Tethys herself was incredibly powerful. She'd helped him summon Gilgamesh, even strengthened the contract to keep the arrogant king from killing him.

Therefore, with her around, whether he had power or not became less important.

"Where's Ayaka?" he asked, changing the subject.

"I lost her," Tethys said flatly.

"You what?" He stared at her in disbelief.

She shrugged. "She took off on her own."

"Are you serious right now?" He ran a hand through his hair. "How could you just—"

"Forget about her," she cut him off. "You have bigger problems. That thing... it has become a real threat."

He narrowed his eyes. "What are you talking about?"

"It has made contact with its future self," she said with a grim expression.

He blinked.

"What's with that expression?" she frowned.

Gilgamesh, who was standing nearby, burst out laughing.

"What's so funny, Wedge of Heaven?" she demanded, glaring at him.

Gilgamesh's laughter died instantly, replaced by a scowl. "I told you not to call me that!"