Warmth left the Hearth House, and all five remaining members took to the streets once again with a revised strategy. Daz took the front to better fight rival groups contending for a Hearth House. Bryn occupied the center to be on the lookout in all directions effectively, with Holger and Kayla at the sides and Gilgamesh pulling up the rear.

  This unremarkable plan was the best they could come up with, though Gilgamesh had more personal issues with it. Undoubtedly, he had the worst position as the last of them who would make it to a Hearth House, should one appear ahead.

  Bryn suggested he take the role under the reasoning that with the power of his assumed bloodline, he would be able to defend the rear and sides more easily. Gilgamesh could not show fear by protesting for the sake of maintaining his facade, so instead he stuck as close as possible and favored the side of Holger, the slowest of the group aside from him. Gilgamesh had confidence that he would react fast enough to close the distance when the time came.

  Screams of terror pierced through an alley right in front of them, and four heroes soon followed. The first three ran alongside their group, but the fourth tripped over his own feet.

  Gilgamesh's first thought, seeing the fool make a scapegoat of himself, was one of assurance. His second thought, seeing that same fool harness a sphere of destructive wind in his outstretched palm, was one of urgency. Gilgamesh tried to distance himself, but it was too late.

  The man cast his surging maelstrom into the alley. An explosion of wind and bricks knocked Gilgamesh to the ground. He jolted to his feet immediately and took off, as two Nightmares emerged from the alley unscathed. One set upon the fallen stranger and the other lunged towards him.

  Gilgamesh just barely managed to avoid it as he sprinted past, but the Nightmare pursued. With every moment, it gained closer and closer. Just inches at a time, but those inches became feet, and its mouths drew closer.

  “Hearth!” Someone yelled up ahead.

  As Gilgamesh saw the warm light within the windows, he realized that he would be caught before he could reach it. His eyes locked on Holger, who ran ahead just out of reach. All he needed to escape the danger was a scapegoat, someone for the creature to feast on instead of himself.

  But the portly man was faster on his feet than his appearance would suggest. Never mind catching up, he was falling behind. Gilgamesh already ran as fast as he could. There was no deeper reservoir to draw from. At this rate, he would die.

  A familiar feeling caressed his back and brought with it a nauseating chill that had only one name. Fear. The end that promised all his effort and all his resolve would become nothing. It sank deep into his flesh, deep enough that it instilled within Gilgamesh a single truth. That he would die if he did nothing. And that truth caused a change.

  His expression strained with a mad resistance. His leprotic limbs lost their ever-present sensation of pain, at least to his mind. All of the world faded away aside from what was right in front of him. The fear which pervaded Gilgamesh did not manifest as despair or cowardice, but instead inflicted upon him a most violent desperation.

  Gilgamesh ran faster. His stride was inconsistent and his arms flailed rather than drove, but he was faster. Desperately, jealously, resentfully, he drew closer to the man ahead and broke his knee with a kick.

  Holger screamed as he fell to the ground, but those screams did not last long as the Nightmare was soon upon him. Gilgamesh did not look back. Desperation still stained his limbs and he saw nothing else but the light.

  As the others started to reach the Hearth House, he could see the deliberation in Bryn's face about whether or not to close the door on him. But there were others still running towards it. Five in total, including himself, and only four spots within the Hearth House were left.

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  One of the strangers ran through the door, then another, and finally the woman of his group. As the fourth stranger got close enough to see the modest safety within, relief and joy washed over him. And Gilgamesh writhed his arms around his head and snapped his neck. He shoved the worthless corpse aside and barged into the house as the door slammed shut behind him.

  “What the hell did you do?!” One of the strangers yelled at him, as the other man held her back with apprehension and wariness towards the rest of the group. “You monster!”

  “You bastard…” Daz spoke up too. “I saw you clip that fatty.”

  “What?” Kayla exclaimed with a tone of condemnation.

  "Silence!" Gilgamesh roared. Desperation still lingered within him, and the strain of it brought with it deep-rooted feelings of indignation and stress that were no mere deception. He was a daimon of tyrannical desperation, and the sheer raw intensity that emanated from his eyes and words gave the others pause. "Wretched inferiors… You draw breath only because I allow it."

  Anxiety and trepidation came over them. Even the hotheaded Daz seemed to reconsider his hostilities. A silence held the room for a long while.

  "...we should get some rest. By how much the moon has moved, the next trip should be our last. We just need to survive one more time…" Bryn spoke with guarded caution.

  The rest of the group quietly gravitated together, away from Gilgamesh. And he stood where he was among the tension, as he wielded his resolve to push the overflowing fear back down.

  [ Some gods are viewing you in a poorer light. ]

  [ Some gods approve of your actions. ]

  Gilgamesh’s eyes widened. Immediately, he looked to the others but none of them had reacted. It seemed he was the only one who could see these messages.

  [ Gray-Eyed Maiden ] advises you to renounce your evil ways.

  [ Loathsome Stag ] encourages you to continue doing as you see fit.

  [ Serpent of False Mysteries ] wants to know what your Talent is.

  "...Are these gods? But these names…? Are they epithets?" Gilgamesh thought. As he came to that speculation, he realized that he recognized one of them.

  Gray-Eyed Maiden was an epithet of the goddess Athena, one bestowed for her wisdom and chastity. Gilgamesh glanced at the group again and subtly walked over to the corner of the other side. He had to test his theory.

  “...What will you give me if I renounce, daughter of Zeus?” Gilgamesh quietly asked.

  [ Many gods of [ Olympus ] are paying attention to you. ]

  [ Handsome Monkey King ] is paying attention to you. ]

  [ All-Father ] is paying attention to you. ]

  [ Gray-Eyed Maiden ] is displeased at your response.

  [ Serpent of False Mysteries ] wants to know what your talent is. ]

  [ Loathsome Stag ] is amused by your audacity. ]

  [ Loathsome Stag ] offers you 1 Attribute Point if you kill another hero. ]

  A sharpness glinted in Gilgamesh’s eyes. He had confirmed it was Athena, but not only that. There were two more epithets he recognized; Sun Wukong and Odin.

  “Do all gods of mythology exist here, then?” Gilgamesh wondered.

  A thousand questions arose within his mind. Questions about the cosmology of the Tower, of its nature, of the status the gods held within it, of the difference between them and mortals.

  But he suspected he would not find answers here and now, and he had a more pressing interest for a more tangible effect. The offer and reward. Gilgamesh contemplated the underlying meaning of it.

  The Watcher Nem told them to prove themselves. Gilgamesh had assumed that meant the Tower, but perhaps it was this audience that would be most beneficial to capture.

  Gilgamesh sat down with his back to the wall in a favorable position, and watched as he thought. The group now fully viewed him with contempt, perhaps even as an overt enemy, but that was no major disaster. It was just as the Rhun scion had said, after all. He only needed to survive one more trip.

  If evil ways were what it took to survive, then he would use evil ways. If satisfying the whims of gods was what it took to gain power, then he would fulfill whatever quest benefited him.

  He had finally taken the first step down the path of a Magi after so long. He would not waste his chance. Not for anything.