[He smiles at her assertion, childlike and yet wise beyond her years at the same time. Yes, he loves her. Loves her in ways that are dangerous and obsessive, but all too true and all too real. And he would break her in ways that are permanent and lasting, piece her back together again, but this right was also stolen from him and he has yet to find a way to regain it.

Maybe they should stop talking about Saber. Maybe they should talk about another Hero she doesn't know yet.]

I heard a story, once. A legend. About a great King who lived in a sea of endless desert. But he wasn't like other kings, because he was unkind and unfair and unjust. It is said that people both loved him and loathed him. It is said that he had many enemies, but far fewer friends. It is said that he committed such sin that he was barred from both heaven and hell alike when he died.

[Where had they buried him? Gilgamesh doesn't even remember. It's painful to consider, how in the end, even he was reduced to bones and ash, scattered to the winds.]

In spite of that, I would like to meet him, and ask him where he went. If not to the gates above and the fires below, then where? Where did he go? It is said that he lost himself to the pages of history, written of only on ancient glyphs and corroded walls. How terrible it would be to die that way, one grain of sand at a time. How terrible it would be, to be forgotten by everyone.