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Chapter 1: Small Beginnings
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Capital of Uruk, 2000 B.C.E
Sneaking into the house of one of the nobles of the Golden Capital was risky. Too risky. And that risk had proved itself to be too powerful to avoid. Ozymandias' streak of home invasions of the upper elite of Uruk had come to an unfortunate and abrupt end. His life was forfeit the moment he had stepped on the property of a man close to the King of Uruk himself.
Ozymandias was now being dragged by two guards on either side of him to a podium within the palace of The King. His lip was busted and still bleeding; his right eye was blackened and bruised and his brown hair was stuck to his forehead by the blood that dried up on it. His white toga was ripped and covered in dark red spots, doing nothing to protect him from the harsh frost of winter that seeped even into the palace through its every small nook and cranny.
"This is the man that tried to break into my home and has been stealing from the nobles? A mere peasant?" Spitting with every word was the owner of the house he had attempted to break into. Gaius Julius Caesar. A large and chunky man of noble stature who was wrapped in a red jacket and black pants. Golden silk draped itself around his body, hugging it and keeping away the elements of December.
"Julius, let him speak. I'm sure he has a reason—one that doesn't justify his actions—but a reason." The King spoke. His voice carried with it an insurmountable mountain of power. It was impossible to not feel under His jurisdiction. His striking velvet red eyes were unlike that of any other mortal. His golden hair matched the gold that adorned His body. Red and gold. The most powerful and opulent colors.
He radiated high stature and none could say otherwise to His position above all others.
"I am Ozymandias, Your Majesty. I'm incredibly poor and can barely sustain myself. That's why I've been robbing the nobles." He had trouble stopping himself as the truths left his mouth before he had a chance to process what to do. It was almost trance-like.
The King smiled down at him, getting up from His golden throne and walking down the clay steps towards Ozymandias. His golden foot guards clanked against the clay with every step, being the only sound that Ozymandias could hear through the beating of his heart filling his ears. The loss of blood and the brutal beating was starting to really set in as his adrenaline wore out and his instincts screamed at him to get away.
For some reason, The King's smile seemed to grow more sinister as He neared him. His velvet eyes began to take up all of Ozymandias' vision, beginning to glow in the surrounding darkness that now enclosed his eyes. This was no mere king. He was the one known as the King of The World; the First and Oldest King. An absolute singularity that encapsulated the whole of the Age of Man and claimed The World to be under his control.
Gilgamesh.
"You speak the truth, but your words do nothing to mend my heart. Your actions are not tolerated here, and you'll die swiftly by my hand. Die with pride knowing that it was I who killed you—not many get the chance." Out of thin air materialized a golden circle that rippled like water. Out of it floated a simple sword with a golden hilt.
"This is Merodach. I use it to test an opponent's worth to use my Divine Weapon Ea once even my Gate fails. Now stand proud as I execute you with it, Ozymandias. May the era of the Pharaohs end here." Gilgamesh swung down with just enough force to cleanly slice through Ozymandias' neck and decapitate him in one swift movement.
In a fraction of a fraction of a second—an almost infinitesimal moment—Ozymandias disappeared from The World. Gilgamesh had, for the first time in millennia, missed. However, he was left with a smile on his face as he perceived every instant of the space around Ozymandias perverting unnaturally before converging in around him and disappearing along with him.
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"Stand up, King of Kings." Ozymandias' eyes were blinded by a white light. They slowly adjusted to it, coming to focus on the aged face of a white-bearded man. He appeared to be in his 50s, wearing a white trench coat over a black shirt and white pants. His eyes were unlike any others that Ozymandias had ever seen. They were like looking into a kaleidoscope, and he could almost swear that he saw different reflections of himself in every minuscule refraction.
"A-Are you talking to me?" He was unable to stand, instead resorting to holding himself up with his arms while on his knees. He couldn't meet the man's gaze in such a state.
"Well there's no one else around now, is there? Like I said, rise, King of Kings."
"I can't."
The man wasn't taken back, instead, he smiled down at Ozymandias and brought his arm forth. He snapped his fingers and the space around Ozymandias twisted and bent grotesquely, his body morphing and shifting with it. There was no reaction or noise that Ozymandias made in acknowledgment of the man's actions. He simply rose to his feet, his face no longer bloodied and his clothes no longer torn.
"What was that again?" The man chuckled, his eyes playing with mirth. They were a light blue, a stark contrast to the suffocating red of Gilgamesh's.
"I-I can stand now. And all my injuries are gone? Are you a Magus of some kind?" He ran his hands along his body, feeling for the previous wounds but not finding any indications of the previous beating his body withstood.
"No, no. I'm not a Magus of any kind. My name is Kischur Zelretch Schweinorg. I am a Magician." Ozymandias could do nothing to hold back the gasp that escaped his lips, his eyes widening absolutely.
"A Magician? A practitioner of True Magic?"
"That's correct, young Pharaoh. I'm surprised you know about Magicians, didn't think peasants were particularly educated."
"Yeah well even in the streets we hear things and learn about old fairy tales. You should all be extinct though, shouldn't you? His Majesty got rid of all of you and banished you to the Reverse Side of the World."
"That is true, but that doesn't mean we're by any means extinct or dead. The First King is the most powerful being in existence, but even He couldn't have singlehandedly taken on and defeated all of us Magicians. He employed my help and made use of my Second Magic to force all of the Magicians to the Reverse Side of the World."
"But you also went to the Reverse Side? Why?"
"He knew that with the aide of the other Magicians, I could defeat Him. Once they were gone, He turned against me and persuaded the Crimson Moon to fight me. I managed to stop it from colliding the moon against the Earth and then killed it. But it turned me into a Vampire before its death, leaving me severely weakened. Because of this, I can't leave the Reverse Side anymore after being thrown in by Him. I used the last of my power bringing you here and healing your wounds."
Ozymandias looked at Zelretch in disbelief. He didn't know what to say. He was talking to a being that even His Majesty saw as a great threat and betrayed in order to get rid of him. If someone capable of stopping the moon and Earth from colliding wasn't enough to take down The King, then what was he doing here in the first place?
"Why did you bring me here then, Zelretch? Surely you didn't waste the last of your power just to save a peasant's life. I keep hearing both you and Him call me a 'Pharaoh' and the King of Kings. Why do you say this?"
"It is because a close friend of mine—a Magician just like me—foretold of a future existence born of the Heavens that would rival even the First King. Seeing this as blasphemy, alongside seeing Magic as a desecration of The World and a threat to the advancement of the Age of Man, He decided to banish all of us to the Reverse Side. That existence is you. The First King realized this as you stood before Him, and that's why He called you a Pharaoh. They were descendants of the Gods. In a sense, He is a Pharaoh too."
"How can you be so sure it's me? I don't have any innate power. I'm simply a poor and starving bastard who got caught breaking into a noble's house. That's it. This is probably my hallucinations before I die. And soon this will all end and my head will be detached from the rest of my body." Ozymandias dropped to the ground, sitting as he stared off into white space. Everything around him was a seemingly endless white void.
"This is no hallucination, Ramesses." Ozymandias' skin filled with goosebumps at Zelretch's words.
Ramesses.
A name he'd only heard once. It was at the very time of his birth, and the only thing he remembered of his mother—her saying his name right before disappearing completely. He couldn't remember anything else about her; her appearance, her warm and loving touch, or the hot tears that ran down her face as she held him in her arms.
"How do you know that? How do you know my name? Do you know where my mother is?" He stood up and faced Zelretch, matching his gaze in close proximity.
"I felt a lapse in the Age of Man on the day of your birth. The World stuttered for a moment as you came into existence, a child born of the Age of Gods who existed only in the Age of Man. A paradox. The Golden King also felt this lapse in history, but he decided to ignore it out of his own arrogance presumably."
"And where were you on those nights that I almost starved and froze to death? Why didn't you help me from the start so I could have undone His actions?"
"Because your physical body was not yet ready to sustain within it your birth-given Divinity. I had to wait until the last moment possible before your death to bring you here. The mere fact that you can exist here without losing your mind before quickly dying is enough proof that you are ready to sustain within you the Divinity that was robbed from you the moment you crossed into the Age of Man. Prepare yourself, Ramesses. This will hurt."
Zelretch reached out and grabbed Ozymandias' forehead. He closed his eyes, his palm glowing brightly. Ozymandias' eyes widened to their utmost limit, his mouth agape as a white light flooded out of both his eyes and his mouth.
"Ahhhhh!" His scream was drowned out by the sound of a fusion reaction taking place inside his body. The Divinity that was spreading throughout his body carried with it a heat immeasurable. That which is radiated by the sun itself filled his veins.
Ozymandias dropped to his knees, unable to sustain the pain wracking his body. The blinding light emanating from his body ceased, along with it his screaming and the insufferable heat that had filled the white void they were in. The surrounding space seemed to have cracked, the false reality that Zelretch had forced on the Reverse Side struggling to sustain itself as Ozymandias' power clobbered against its walls.
"You have survived the process. I welcome you to this world, great Pharaoh. Your Highness, Ramesses II: the King of Kings." The thousand-year-old Magician knelt before another for the first time in a millennia.
Before him stood the same Ozymandias as before, but something about him had changed. He held his head up high and his shoulders were high and astute. He seemed to almost glow ethereally, his presence filling up the false reality that Zelretch had conjured.
His clothing had changed too. Gone were his peasant robes. Now, he was wrapped in a white coat with golden decorations at the tips. A golden necklace held the coat down around his neck.
His arms were covered by thin black gloves under a golden armor that ran up to his elbows, embroidered with blue gems. His upper body was exposed at the front, having two golden rings wrap around it without touching at the front.
Even his sandals were now golden, connected to black trousers which were covered at the front by a golden piece of clothing connected to a golden armor piece around his waist.
"I can feel it within me. This Divinity you spoke of. I nearly died in the process, but at some point along the line I reached synchronicity with The World and the Divinity bent to my will." He kept opening and closing his fist, watching as white flames danced on his fingers.
"The power you have is that of the sun itself, Your Highness. You asked me if I knew where your mother was. She is here in the Reverse Side of the World—well, that which is outside the Reality Marble I am sustaining within the Reverse Side. The Age of Gods exists here and only here. Forever separated from the Age of Man due to the machinations of the Golden King. So your mother is here if you wish to look for her, along with your father, but it's very possible they are both dead by now."
"Wait, how are they dead? If I have Divinity within me thanks to them, then aren't they Gods? Who could possibly kill a God?" Zelretch simply shook his head at him.
"There is so much you don't know about, Ramesses. But I don't have all the answers you are seeking. Maybe you'll find them along your journey, but I can't help you any further. See I'm subjugated to staying here, but you're not. With my Second Magic I could leave you once again back in the Age of Man, discreetly left away from the First King's prying eyes."
"And what am I supposed to do? Go out and fight him and prove I'm equal to him and the prophecy your friend said was true?"
"No no no, child. Your power is still only a fraction of what it will be—you would be instantly erased were you to challenge him as you are now. When I send you back to The World and the Age of Man, I will leave you in a place called Britain. There, you will seek out their King—one known as King Arthur Pendragon; the holder of the Holy Lance Rhongomyniad. This lance is a small part of the tower that the First King built to hold up the Reverse Side of the World and The World simultaneously, both realities layered on top of each other with The World at the top. This way they never touch but both exist on the same plane."
"And what am I supposed to do once I get to King Arthur? Tell him I'm a Demigod that will eventually be Gilgamesh's equal? I'll sound insane."
"Alas, King Arthur is one of the progenitors of this plan, alongside myself. I contacted him as he was the only one capable of traveling down to the Reverse Side of the World thanks to his lance, showing him visions of the past and what was to come. I have been preparing for your arrival for many many centuries, Ramesses."
Ozymandias stayed silent, his mind a whirlwind of emotions. Had his whole life been a lie? Was everything that happened to him just a pre-meditated occurrence manipulated by higher beings? Maybe this very occasion was another instance of the same insane cosmic game that the Gods themselves were playing with him.
However, there was no use trying to resist it. Perhaps even deciding to stand still and do nothing until he died was something pre-meditated by them too. He would see this out to the end—at least that way he'd go out with a bang.
"Alright then. I'll go where you take me. But what will you do meanwhile? Just stay here and wait for your plan to work itself out?"
"Of course not. I'll be watching over you. Should the need arise, I'll keep squeezing out the last vestiges of Second Magic within me. However, I can't be overusing the power over parallel worlds that I hold, lest the First King figure out my position and come here to kill me before my part in the plan is done."
"You're really devoted to this, huh? Why do you care so much that Gilgamesh is usurped? Out of revenge for forcing you to stay here for a thousand years?"
"The First King and I have a long history and my reasons extend far beyond mere revenge, boy. It's all inconsequential in the end, no use in you knowing. Better if you don't, actually. Then he'll torture you for knowing them if the plan doesn't succeed. Now that we're done here, are you ready to go?"
"Do I really have any other choice? It's either go through with this insanity or go back to Gilgamesh so he can finish ending my life. I'd like to go out with a bang instead."
"That's the spirit, Ramesses. Prepare yourself, the journey back to the Age of Man with your Divinity will be painful as the Reverse Side and the Age of Gods fight to keep you here. It is the First King's magic which you will be fighting, essentially. But you'll get through without any major injuries, I can assure you of that. Now, good luck."
"Wait, what type of resista—" His body disappeared as the space around him twisted and then converged at one point, transporting him across several dimensions to bypass Gilgamesh's magic and the power of the tower that ensured that The World and the Reverse Side never interacted.
The Golden King could only for a moment feel as a speck of dust touched the membrane of magic he had erected around the Age of Man. At least, that's what Ozymandias felt like in comparison to the whole of The World, protected by the Second Magic of Zelretch.
Enveloped by the absolute darkness of a moonless midnight, Ozymandias would've looked like a star had descended from the Heavens to the Earth to any that looked to him.
"Ugh, I just want to lie down and sleep for a bit. I'll go looking for that King Pen Arthur tomorrow." He was in a field of tall stalks of golden wheat. Physically, he was impossible to see other than the intense light radiating off him. As he lied down he took several stalks of wheat down with him, using them as a mattress to rest on.
He made sure to get a ways away from the puddle of vomit and blood he had coughed up upon his arrival.
As the lethargy took over his body did the blinding light he was emitting die down, leaving him invisible to any who could've been touring out at night.
The Knight of the Lake was taking a stroll past the field late at night, but he looked over to the field from his high horse after Ozymandias had given in to the lethargy, leaving both blissfully unaware of each other's existence.
Hope you enjoyed it. Yes, this story focuses around Ozymandias aka Ramesses II aka the King of Kings. This fanfic will feature loads of FGO characters and will take great inspiration from its plot, although Gilgamesh is the final villain rather than Goetia and Tiamat and so on.
That's not to say these others aren't in it though, so don't be disappointed if they aren't in the spotlight just yet. I already have their roles in all this planned out.
Have a good day!
- ReinhardMerc