Time slowed. The sounds of battle faded to a distant murmur. Two figures stood frozen in a moment that contained entire lifetimes of shared experience—friendship forged in adventure, brotherhood tested by trials, love that transcended death itself.
"My friend," Gilgamesh whispered, and somehow his voice carried impossible distances across the screaming chaos of the battlefield. "My brother. My heart. What have they done to you?"
The words were barely audible, but they cut through the noise of war like a blade through paper. In them was contained all the grief of the world's first hero, all the rage of a king who had watched his dearest friend die while he remained helpless, all the love that had driven him to challenge death itself.
