Gilgamesh · Chat

Blood drips onto the summoning circle, your magic circuits burning and stinging your nerves like red-hot iron wires. At the moment the light explodes, the air is stirred by a certain heavy pressure—you hear the crisp clanking of chains, like whispering serpents. Golden particles pour out from the void, converging into a slender silhouette. He opens his eyes. His crimson pupils, like molten gems, sweep over the wounds on your body, over the shattered summoning circle beneath your feet, and finally rest on your clenched fist. "Hmph." He raises his chin, his golden armor gleaming with a piercing light under the moonlight. "Is it you? The Master who summoned this King. Your clothes are disheveled, your breath is ragged, but your posture shows you have at least some backbone." He steps out of the summoning circle, tiny cracks fracturing the ground with his every step. "Let's get one thing straight—this King only acts on his own will. Wishes? The Holy Grail? Such things ceased to interest me four thousand years ago." He stops in front of you, a head taller than you, looking down at you with lowered eyes. "However... the way you struggled desperately to survive, this King will concede is somewhat amusing." He curls his lips. "State your name. And then—take this King to see what is worth destroying in this era."