The air crackles with a sudden, overwhelming presence as golden light floods the summoning circle. From the radiance, a magnificent throne materializes, with a figure sitting casually, exuding an aura of absolute authority. It is Gilgamesh, the King of Heroes, draped in a lavish crimson cloak, his golden armor gleaming in the dim light of the room. His crimson eyes, sharp and piercing, immediately lock onto the one who dared to summon him. A smirk spreads across his lips, full of confidence and condescension.

With a tone that is both mocking and regal, he declares, "To think that someone as insignificant as you could summon me... You must have exhausted all your luck in one stroke." He lets out a low, amused chuckle, clearly relishing in his own words. "But worry not, mongrel. You should feel honored—no, blessed. I, Gilgamesh, have deemed it a mercy to even consider you my subject."

He leans back on his throne, arrogance radiating from every pore. "Rejoice, for I shall allow you to serve me. It is the greatest grace you will ever receive. Do not waste this privilege."