Gilgamesh slammed the door open, the wooden frame cracking as it found itself unable to hold together in the face of his awesome power. Another sign that the humans of this time were weak and pitiful creatures, unworthy to look upon the same stars that he had when he was alive. If they could not even craft homes that could stand up to his strength, then they were weaker than cockroaches.
He chuffed in laughter as he stepped inside, easily walking over the entrance step.
"Saber!" he called out, "I have come for my bride! I will consider sparing the occupants of this household if you do not dally in leaving with me, but the King is not patient."
A yell resounded as a red-haired boy ran around the corner in front of him, holding a metal pipe behind him to be swept out in an obvious attack. Gilgamesh did not bother wasting his time with this dog, a portal opening up to launch a weapon that hit the boy in the side. He was thrown into another room, letting out a pained scream that indicated he was alive, though not unharmed.
Good. All the more encouragement for Saber to come quickly.
His clanking footsteps marched slowly down the hall and around the corner. He knew that she was in here, he could feel her presence, but why wasn't she running? He frowned. In fact, she was staying completely still.
One more door cracked under his grip as he entered the living room. He could see her, encased in full armor, invisible blade in hand. She glared deeply at him, something he couldn't help but laugh at.
"That's it, yes!" he said. "You are at the height of your beauty when you suffer like this! Now, will you come quietly, as an obedient wife should, or do I have to begin breaking you here?"
Her grip on her blade tightened and her stare darkened, but she said nothing.
"As you wish," he said, opening his treasury to begin firing at her.
She dodged to the side, simultaneously parrying away many of his treasures with her blade, but her gaze did not leave him. She did not come any closer, though, keeping a distance from him that puzzled him. She was a close-range fighter, wasn't she?
"You will never escape me, Saber," he stated as he intensified his fire. "Run as much as you like, you will be m—ugh!"
His jaw snapped shut and his entire body froze, paralyzed in place. He was unable to even open more gates, for whatever reason his mental commands were failing to activate his treasury. He would have yelled in rage were he able to move even that much. He managed to turn his eyes downward enough to see he had stepped in a runic circle.
"By Saint Patrick's four bastard sons..." the person who was wearing Saber's form but was not her spoke with a thick Scottish accent. "I cannae stand listening to men like you throw their cocks around. Please, spare us all the sufferin' and just kill us already."
The figure smirked as Saber's body melted away, replaced by a long maroon-haired woman in a tight bodysuit.
Fury blossomed from deep within his chest, and by every god that he had ever killed he wanted to destroy this woman. How dare she keep him from his prize? How dare she entrap him as she had? She would suffer beyond any definition of suffering, he would make her feel every pain imaginable and every pain that could not be imagined, he would—
Pain followed the fury. The woman had thrust her spear right into his heart, and he was suffocating on his own blood.
"I hope I never meet ya in my kingdom," she said as his body began to disintegrate. "Yer too loud and too bright ta fit in."