Golden King in a Dungeon

Summary: When Gilgamesh was pulled into the hole of the grail, everything about him changed. Even his arrogance could not save him from corruption a second time. He became twisted, as his very history was distorted beyond recognition. But he is not broken. This second age of the gods…he will rule over it, as its King! Alter!Gilgamesh

A/N: Just a quick one-shot that came to mind. Might get expanded into a fully story. if enough people like it.

And NO! The Embrace of Madness is NOT on Hiatus or discontinued. I have writer's block almost as soon as I write a chapter sometimes, and I can take large gaps of times writing the next one. Or sometimes, I can write a chapter in a few days or a week. Times will vary, but the chapter will come.


He didn't know how long he'd been in the darkness. He couldn't tell any longer, everything had started to blur together. Everything felt as if it were happening all at once yet spread out over the course of several hundred years.

He watched his life flash before his eyes…and yet not the life that he remembered leading. Up to a certain point it was the same, but after Enkidu's death…things took a drastic shift, a change that just didn't seem to make much sense.

In that world, he'd sworn vengeance against the very gods that had stolen away his most precious friend. While he could not do anything to them, as their grip on the world was beginning to loosen, he could begin a smear campaign to ruin their good names.

Ishtar became renown as a whore, who would even be willing to pay men just to be touched and used. Even children weren't safe from her. Ninkasi became known as a drunk woman, who would kill men, women, and children if they didn't drink alcohol at least three times a week.

Furious with him for these actions, those gods had used some of the last grip they had on the world to punish the people of Uruk. And so, fearful of the gods, the people turned to him and blamed him for their problems. And this time, they weren't afraid to say it to his face.

Hurt by the betrayal of his people, he'd realised that humans were just as untrustworthy as those damned gods that stole his best friend.

And so, one night, he left.

Using powers and abilities unknown to others, he took everything his vast vault had collected over time and stored it away. Every treasure, every weapon, even things such as wine or food. He took everything with him, and fled the city one night, to never be heard from again.

He watched as several months later, Ishtar was found with wounds all over her body caused by chains, and a lump of clay on her chest. And so that kill was attributed to him, the gods deciding it was his own way of getting revenge for the one whom he had called his most precious friend.

He was forced to watch this unfamiliar history as he grew bitter and angry the longer he watched. This was not his history, this was not what had happened to him, he knew it!

And yet…down to his core, he knew what he saw was the truth, he just couldn't admit it. Even as his beautiful skin began to blacken thanks to the essence of that damned grail, he couldn't admit what he saw was his own history.


He didn't know how long he spent in the darkness. Hundreds, thousands, possibly even millions of years could have passed. He was trapped here, in a prison from which he had no escape, a prison in which Angra Mainyu was free to corrupt him until he was bored, to do as he pleased with the King of Heroes.

Angra Mainyu just kept chipping, and chipping. Changing his history to his will, messing with his body, blackening everything about him. His skin, his heart, and even his golden soul that had once shone with such a wonderful radiance.

Then, he felt a shift in the air. It was a small shift, yet it was different to the air that Angra Mainyu produced. It was…almost hopeful. He felt something beating against his cage, and distant yells that seemed so far and yet so very near.

His crimson eyes slowly drifted open once again, and he looked up…and he witnessed a sight he never thought he'd see in his life.

There he was. Shiro Emiya, fighting desperately against Angra Mainyu, the beautiful Saber at his side and even Tokiomi's child. They all fought…why? Why did they fight against the God of Evil?

It was then, his ears caught the words of the faker. "…ee Gilgamesh…!"

For him? The faker was fighting to free him from his imprisonment under Angra Mainyu? Why? Why would he do such a thing?


It was then, Gilgamesh recalled just what young Emiya's wish was. To become a hero.

A hero…could Gilgamesh himself even be called that any longer, he wondered. He was now a shell of himself, uncertain of what was the truth in his life and what was false. Until now, only one truth was absolute: he was trapped here by Angra Mainyu.

And yet, watching them try to free him, Gilgamesh felt something stir inside of his blackened heart. A sense of comradery that he'd thought would never resurface, that had been missing ever since the death of his dearest Enkidu.

"Faker…you are such a fool," he chuckled to himself, before he sighed and slowly began to stand for the first time in a very, very long time.

Angra Mainyu couldn't focus on both Gilgamesh and the fight, it was dividing his attention and left Gilgamesh with a bit more freedom. A mistake that would be the evil god's final undoing.


He called forth one of his portals to his gate. And from the gate, emerged the hilt of destruction. Even as his hands closed around the handle, and that terrifying star began to spin, Gilgamesh couldn't help but smile.

This would be his end. The Evil God would be weakened enough for the faker and Saber to finish it, but Gilgamesh would not survive this next attack.

It was…funny, in a way. He'd tried to kill the faker, to take Saber as his bride forcefully…and yet now here he was, willing to die so that the two of them could live.

"Enkidu…I shall see you soon…" he whispered, closing his eyes as he gave into his fate, as the sword of rapture continued to spin.

He spoke two words. So soft they were only just above a whisper and yet they echoed through that darkness, as if they deserved to be heard. The final words of the King of Heroes.

"Enuma Elish."

And so, that dark world faded into a crimson glow.

-Line Break-


He lay there on the hard ground, staring up at the sky. A feeling ran through him, one he'd long since forgotten. A feeling he hadn't had since he was but a young boy.

For reasons unknown to even himself, he began to let out a laugh. A childish laugh that echoed from his lips and all around the hills that surrounded him.

He didn't know why, he didn't know how. Yet for some reason, Gilgamesh was alive.

He slowly sat up, looking down at himself and hoping he would be back to normal…yet that hope faded upon seeing his blackened skin.

But even despite the fact he'd become twisted- an Alter even- he was just glad that he was breathing, alive. And away from the taint that was the all world's evil.

Quickly standing and hurrying over to the nearby stream, despite his current weakness, he looked at himself and his appearance in the river.

His golden armour now only covered his lower body, even as he wore his golden necklaces. His chest was bare and he wore a sleeveless short jacket, black with golden trimming. Black fur could be seen on the back of the jacket, giving a slightly feral look. And wrapped around his left arm were the chains of his dearest friend…


After checking over his appearance, he closed his eyes and began to seek out the feeling of his mana. It was there…but something was off, different compared to how he usually felt as a Heroic Spirit. He felt…complete?

It was with a start that the golden king realised that he was not a heroic spirit any longer, nor was he incarnated by the power of the evil god. He was well and truly resurrected, alive and able to do almost anything he pleased.

It was as if the world had decided to reward Gilgamesh for his actions against the Evil God and had brought him back to life for a second chance.

Even though he was twisted beyond all recognition…

He sook his head quickly, taking in his surroundings before he noticed the distant appearance of a town. A very large town, bigger than he remembered even Uruk being, and a tall tower that seemed to stretch into the heavens.

He stared for a while, before he summoned a thick black coat from his gate and draped it over himself. He could not risk people possibly recognising him if there were magi among them, he wanted to gather information.

It was something he'd picked up in that twisted history of his.

-Line Break-


The air in the town was strange…very strange. It felt both familiar, and yet entirely unfamiliar to him at the same time. Yet Gilgamesh could never forget what this feeling was, no matter how hard he tried.


The feeling of Divinity that only Demigods and their sires held. And yet…how was this possible? Divinity had no place in the world any longer, especially with the age of the gods at a firm close.

And yet, his eyes fell upon a crimson haired woman laughing, and his entire body tensed up as hatred filled his form.

A god.

A real, true, god was what he was looking at. Not one familiar to him, though the woman was a god. Of that, there could be no doubt.


How was it possible that a god was here? In the mortal world? It couldn't be, he refused to believe it, and yet he was forced to. That was a god, without a doubt, which could only mean one thing…

He shook his head and headed in another direction, looking for whatever could be considered a Library. He had some research to do.

-Line Break-


It seemed that explosion had done more than Gilgamesh realised. He was no longer in the world as he remembered it. He was in an entirely different world where the Age of the Gods never ended, and they had eventually chosen to descend to the lower world and live together with humans.

'So, the High-Class Mongrels chose to live with the real mongrels…' the king thought to himself as he continued to reach.

The more he read, the more unbelievable things became. Other races joined together with humans, from all over, and began to live in peace. But most were incapable of magic by themselves, and so the gods had to bestow those beings with 'Falna.' And in doing so, they made that person a member of their 'Familia.'

This information was useful, something Gilgamesh could use to blend into modern society.

Finally, he came upon a passage that gave him pause.

Denatus, the meeting of the gods. A day to celebrate the fact that they chose to live together with the beings of the lower world. In other words, a place where they could brag about the strength of their Familia in a metaphorical dick-measuring contest.

And yet a few things stuck out to Gilgamesh in that passage. First: The gods could bring one member of their Familia with them. Two: that demigods were also allowed to attend the meeting. And three: that it was going to be taking place that very night.

Then and there, Gilgamesh made a choice. The King of Heroes would make his return…and this time, he would stand equal to- nay, above- the very gods he'd long sworn vengeance against.

This he swore.

-Line Break-


He could hear them laughing and cheering inside, the sounds of joy visible to the ears of the Golden King. And yet, all he could hear were the jeers and laughs they'd directed towards the less fortunate of his people.

The gods were cruel, and Gilgamesh could simply not be led to believe otherwise. Just as it was in their nature to see the conflicts of mortals as entertainment, it was in his nature to see the laughs of gods as the sign that they truly detested humanity, down to their core.

He took a deep breath as he stared at those doors. His fists clenched, and his eyes burned. A single golden portal appeared behind him and, from Babylon's Gates, he drew forth a sword.

A black sword, tainted by betrayal, and the counterpart to the blade of the woman who Gilgamesh treasured so very much.

A sword once holy, now filled with resentment and regret. A sword made to kill the strongest of Phantasmal Beasts and had even done so in the lifetime of its wielder.

Arondight: The Unfading Light of the Lake.

He allowed his magical power to build as he stepped towards the doors, the demonic weapon becoming enshrouded in a thick black mist.

Gilgamesh swung…and from the depths of the sword, a small light shined.


He heard yells of surprise as smoke filled the entrance way, and he began to walk through it straight into the meeting of the gods without care.

"Who dares interrupt this gathering!?" A male voice roared, clearly furious at whoever had done this.

Gilgamesh didn't yet respond, simply continuing to walk through the smoke. When he finally stepped out of the smoke, he heard several sharp intakes of breath.

"I dare," his voice came easily, as smooth as a gentle breeze. His gaze flickered around the room at the various gods there, and his eyes drank in the sight of the gods that were familiar to him…gods that paled in what he could only describe as fear and began to shake their heads in disbelief at the sight of him.

"And who are you?" a woman asked, sneering as she stepped forwards. The same crimson haired woman he'd seen earlier that day. She was dressed in a stunning black dress, but he didn't care. Her beauty was nothing in his eyes, she was simply trash.

"I am the one true King," he said, his voice cold as he looked over every god in the room. "I existed long before you descended to these realms, and I have now returned to show you filthy gods your place…beneath me."

Behind him, several golden portals formed, and the tips of immortal killers poked out of them. Harpe. Gae Dearg. Gae many other nameless weapons that could kill immortals.

The gods instinctively backed away, a fear for those weapons building in them. Impossibly, they just knew what they were capable of. That if they attacked him now, they would die.

"I have not come to fight you today," he said. "I am simply here to announce my return. And in doing so, I bestow upon you my name. A name you shall all remember…and you shall all fear."

Those eyes of his, those crimson eyes, glowed malevolently in the light of the room, as he felt something slot into place inside of him. A smirk made its way onto his lips.

"I am the King who ruled over Ancient Uruk. The one who collected every treasure to ever exist, that will ever exist, inside of his vault during his lifetime. Who has defied the god's countless times and shall continue to defy the gods for as long as I live.

"Know that on this day that Gilgamesh, the King of Heroes, has returned. And I declare before you now, I will crush all of you beneath my feet. For there can only be one true ruler, and it is I."

As he spoke the words, his smirk just grew wider at the shock and disbelief on the faces of the various gods. They couldn't believe the words that he was saying…but the Mesopotamian gods knew his words to be true, and the way they paled showed that they knew he meant business.

He'd been lost for a while. But now, at last, everything once again felt…