Massive, ancient double doors creaked as they opened.
A thin layer of dust billowed and fell from the tops of the doors that were too large for a human to open, and looked as if they were designed for and by giants.
There was barely any light, at least until a finger was snapped and a brazier lit itself, casting fading, flickering light onto the long, wide hall.
There were numerous banners on the pillars of the hall, each fully intact as if no locust had gotten to them, yet each was covered in dust and worn bleak by time.
A man in a cloak took a step forward from the doorway, causing a faint echo in the dead hall.
Another step followed the first one… And the figure paused as a wave of energy washed over him, yet the energy didn't disturb the dust of the hall nor the figure itself.
The wave of energy touched and felt the cloaked figure, seeking to understand, seeking to know, who had entered its domain… And in a moment, the energy was gone.
The cloaked figure took another step, and continued to walk on the carpet that had at one point been red, yet had been worn black and white.
The figure stopped in front of a raised platform, on top of which was a throne that was surrounded by numerous urns and boxes, each of which was detailed and carved with loving care, with name on each urn carved in kanji.
There was a skeleton resting on the throne, wearing an ancient cloak that remained in perfect state despite the wear of everything around him- Even on himself, as the figure's bones were yellowed, filled with nicks and cuts, and worn thin by time.
The skeleton's hands were adorned with rings of power, and in his right hand was a staff that was made of gold and gemstones- But the staff was dull and lifeless, devoid of power it may have once held.
The cloaked figure put his hand on his chest, and bowed to the skeleton on the throne.
"Greetings, great king."
"...hhhaaa…" The skeleton let out a faint, weary sound like a breath being exhaled by an old man. "...I had forgotten what voices not my own sound like in these halls. It has been… so long…"
"Could you spare me your tale?"
"...You have come into my tomb, bearing no weapon, disturbing no treasure, and without retaliation even as I looked into you…" The skeleton's voice was like the grating of two tombstones together, and it didn't move on the throne despite the voice coming out of the unmoving form. "...Despite that, in the past, I would have been livid if one entered my domain uninvited. But those times have long passed me, never to return. Yes, I could tell my tale to you."
"Your reign has been long." The cloaked figure commented, drawing cues from what he had discovered on his way to the throne room.
"...It has…" The skeleton spoke with a voice that was like a whisper, this time without the harshness of his earlier tone, and with a voice that was full of love despite its inhumanity. "...In the ancient past, my subjects… no, the children of my friends… and I… we adventured through these lands… And in time, we conquered it all… I never truly wanted to be a king, yet it was who I became…"
"..." The cloaked stranger put his hands into his sleeves, and listened.
"...It was so long ago… My kingdom, it flourished… the dead and living, working side by side…" The skeleton's voice was faint and loving, yet there was a tinge of sadness that mixed into it. "...I truly didn't care for any of them. Not a single one of the subjects of my kingdom, only the children of my friends… I realized this after some time… I didn't reign over my subjects because I wanted them to be happy, but because I hoped that my friends would see my kingdom flourish, and love me… I cared not for the adoration of my subjects, nor their terror. But I never found my lost friends… I was the only one who came into this world. I… can no longer even remember their names… One by one… I forgot them all… I only remember that they existed… And that their children existed beside me."
"You were not from this world, I take it?" The cloaked figure asked.
"Ha… No… I was a commoner from another world, given this form and this power by chance and by magic of sacrifice, that I still remember… I had hoped that my friends had come as well, but eventually… I found none… None but the children who had come with me. Our children…" The skeleton's tone turned bitter. "...So I did what I could to make them happy. And by proxy, their happiness became mine… and mine, theirs. But…"
"...That happiness came at the expense of others. But I did not care about the others, not even my subjects, those who were not the children of my friends, and so… I did not stop our children, even as the nation that I had cultivated as a garden for my friends, burned around us." The skeleton's voice turned even more bitter and self-loathing. "...In their reckless love for me, our children thought that their all-consuming flame was what I expected of them, and by being happy in seeing them express their love for me, I reinforced those beliefs. I never corrected them… And in the end, there was nothing but ash."
"...The world outside this tomb is dead." The cloaked figure commented. "Were your children those who did that?"
"It may not have been their hands that snuffed out the life of this world, but they set in motion its death." The skeleton spoke with regret in his tone. "I knew that at one point I would have to confront the force that had brought me here… And I did, and I won. No… We won. But at a great cost… And it was a cost that we did not pay for. We lost no-one from our ranks, but the one who paid for our clash was the world. For a conflict that was never necessary in the first place. But at the time… I was too scared of them to let them know…"
The skeleton's head moved, causing the dust on top of his otherwise immaculate robes to flow gently down to the floor.
The skeleton looked in the direction of the dust-covered urns on the floor around the throne. "...In the end, I never told them about my fear. That I feared they would see less of me… That I was not the king they wanted me to be… That I wished only for their happiness, no matter what form it took."
"How did they die?" The cloaked figure asked.
"...No enemy could touch them. No disease could conquer them. But time…" The skeleton's voice was quiet as he looked at the urns. "...I can stop time, but I cannot undo it, and I cannot hold it forever. I can revive the dead, or raise the corpses, but I cannot force the old back to youth again. I can cure insanity and madness, but I cannot undo the numbness left by passing of countless eons."
"...They died of time?"
"...Some of them did so earlier than others, and those were the lucky ones- The ones who died while seeing this place in its full glory and splendor, never seeing it crumble around us with the passing of time." The skeleton spoke. "Some of our children lasted for hundreds of years. Some fell into deep melancholy after tens of thousands of years of solitude within these walls, and… I was forced to put them to their final rest to give them peace."
The skeleton looked at the urns, and lifted his bony arm to point at each of them while recounting names on the urns, pausing for a moment before each name as if to force the name out from the crypts of his mind with great effort, each name a memory that had been kept under lock and key to prevent it from fleeing.
"How long has it been since the world died, and you retreated into your tomb, great king?"
"...I cannot truly tell… The sun died a millenia ago… And through it all, I have been here." The skeleton's voice was faint. "...I alone remain to guard these cold, empty halls, these half-remembered memories… I am surprised that I still remember how to speak… But the locks on my mind would not permit me to forget that, I suppose…"
"...You have been drifting in this dead world for countless millennia." The cloaked stranger commented. "I now see why you did not attack me when I walked through those gates."
"...It has been… so long since I saw another being." The skeleton spoke with a hushed voice. "...I am tired."
"Your vigil has been long." The cloaked figure nodded in sympathy.
"...I want you to end it all."
"You would trust a stranger with this?" The cloaked figure asked.
"...You walked through the desolate floors. The dead empire of ashes and empty homes. You touched no treasure, nor did you desecrate the graves of my beloved children. I saw it all through this Throne…" The skeleton spoke while moving his skeletal fingers to caress the arm-rest of the obsidian throne. "...I've been bound here for too long, yet… I have been too cowardly to let it all go. To let the last vestiges of the memories fade away. And I know that you are no ordinary person- No such being could still exist in this world, much less find me in this tomb, or walk through what remains of its defenses without disturbing any of them."
"I am honored." The figure bowed again. "Yet, I wish to make an offer for you."
"...Then speak." A faint spark of life seemed to return to the skeleton, almost if some sort of ancient haggling instinct was triggered, but it was extinguished almost immediately afterwards by the sheer weight of entropy that burdened the ancient skeletal king.
"...Would you wish for one last adventure?"
"...With all my heart."
"Then let us trade. I shall grant you the death you seek, and leave this tomb with a seal that can never be broken so that the memories and treasures are forever lost to raiders." The cloaked figure spoke. "In exchange I shall give you one last adventure. For this I need one thing you have, something that imbues the memory of who you are, regardless of its value."
"...Ha…" The skeleton let out a breath like ancient, broken bellows being pumped, causing a small whirl on the dust that covered everything. "I see… But I fail to see how you benefit from this trade. You did not come here seeking trinkets nor treasure."
"Must all trades be beneficial for both parties?"
"...Maybe not. Maybe I do now see what you need from me… And I no longer care. Very well. I accept this contract." The skeleton leaned back on the throne. "...It was a long journey…"
"..." The cloaked figure took a step onto the platform, and stood in front of the skeleton on the throne.
The skeleton put his hands on the arm-rests of his throne, in a stance that was much more suited for an ancient king, and allowed the inert golden staff to rest against his skeletal shoulder.
The skeletal king pulled a ring from his finger, and offered it to the cloaked figure. "Before you release me… What is your name, stranger?"
"...Kischur Zelretch Schweinorg."
"...I was called Ainz Ooal Gown…" the skeleton paused as Zelretch took the ring that the skeleton offered. "I had another name… But I've forgotten it already."
"Well met, Ainz Ooal Gown. Be at peace." Zelretch moved his pointing hand to the side, causing the sound of a breaking jewel to ring in the empty throne room.
The skeletal king's head fell from his shoulders…. And Zelretch caught it before it could hit the floor, and placed the head back on the now truly dead king's shoulders, a monument to the king's achievements and his final tomb in dignity.
Zelretch closed his eyes, wondering for a brief moment if his immortal life would at some point mimic that of the skeleton before him… But he shook it off before the entropy of time could crush his mind as well.
The Kaleidoscope allowed Zelretch to move to parallel worlds that existed without number… And he had, in one, been called on for a favor that he had given in the ancient past of that particular branch of reality.
In truth, Zelretch's motive in the tomb that he had stumbled upon had not been entirely altruistic, but in the end, he had not lied either.
The Kaleidoscope looked at the ring that he had been given by the skeletal king… And he knew on instinct that the ring had what he needed.
It was clear to Zelretch that the skeleton before him was no savior, no saint, and was an irredeemable demon king in all but name… But at the same time, he hoped that by knowing evil and after being tempered by time and loss, Ainz Ooal Gown had in him what Zelretch needed.
A certain Makiri bloodline had decided to call Zelretch for the ancient favor he owed to the ancient Ukrainian bloodline, and had asked Zelretch to produce a relic of an ancient hero for their upcoming little 'game'. And Zelretch decided to go all out for the request…Although not in a way that Zouken Makiri likely expected.
…Although the biggest reason Zelretch decided on the Ring of Ainz Ooal Gown for the 'relic' was because he was certain that it was going to be amusing to give Zouken Makiri a relic that would mix into the Holy Grail to form a Servant outside the history and reality of the world where the Fifth Holy Grail War was about to start.
'I hope that worm gets an aneurysm trying to figure out just what sort of Servant he has summoned~'
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Pilot.