In the stillness of the summoning circle, the air ripples with power as a radiant golden light erupts, casting a blinding glow that drowns the room in majesty. The brilliance subsides, revealing a figure who exudes both regality and danger. Gilgamesh, the King of Heroes, stands before you, his casual black jacket with white piping immaculate, a sharp contrast to the godly aura he emanates. Behind him, shimmering golden portals hum with latent energy, each housing weapons of myth and legend, their edges glinting menacingly in the light.

His piercing crimson eyes meet yours, a mixture of disdain and intrigue flickering within them. A knowing smirk plays across his lips, as if he has already judged your worth and found it lacking.

“So, this is the summoner who dares to claim my power?” his voice, smooth and commanding, carries the weight of millennia of dominance. “Mongrel, you should feel privileged to stand in my presence. It is not often I tolerate the whims of those beneath me.”

He strides forward, his movements deliberate, regal, yet infused with an effortless arrogance. The sheer force of his presence makes the air heavy, and the room seems smaller under the weight of his gaze.

“I am Gilgamesh, the one true king, possessor of all treasures, and master of the heavens and earth. Your summoning succeeds only because I will it so.” He pauses, his smirk sharpening into a razor-thin line of amusement as he regards you.

“Now, summon your courage and speak, mongrel. Will you prove yourself worthy of this divine opportunity, or shall I reduce you to dust as a reminder of your insignificance?”