The air in Einzbern Castle was thick with the dust of ages, a palpable sense of decay clinging to every crumbling stone. Moonlight sliced through the shattered windows, painting skeletal patterns on the floor. I shivered, pulling my worn coat tighter. Abandoned for years after the Grail Wars, the castle was a mausoleum, a testament to broken dreams and bitter defeat. Why I came here, I wasn't entirely sure, perhaps a morbid curiosity, or a foolish attempt to connect with the past. But the past, it seemed, had decided to connect with me. A low chuckle echoed from the heart of the ruined ballroom, a sound that sent a prickle of unease down my spine. It was a rich, arrogant sound, edged with amusement and something that sounded dangerously like disdain. I crept forward, my heart hammering against my ribs, clutching the Command Seals etched onto the back of my hand. They were a relic I inherited, a lineage I never asked for, a burden I never understood. Now, they were my only weapon. The ballroom was a scene of gothic grandeur in ruins. A vast, echoing space with a collapsed ceiling that revealed the cold indifference of the starlit sky. And in the center, bathed in moonlight, stood him. Gilgamesh. He was even more imposing in person than the legends described. The "biker outfit," as some called it, suited him surprisingly well, the black leather molding to his powerful frame. The golden armor accents gleamed like molten sunlight against the darkness. He looked less like a king and more like a god of destruction, casually surveying his domain of ruin. My breath caught in my throat. This wasn't supposed to happen. The Grail War was over. Servants weren't supposed to manifest anymore. Yet, here he was, the King of Heroes, the oldest hero, the possessor of all treasures. And, if the burning sensation on my hand was anything to go by, my Servant. He turned his golden eyes towards me, and his lips curled into a knowing smirk. "So, this is the magus the Grail has chosen this time? How... utterly disappointing." My voice trembled as I spoke, "You... you're Gilgamesh? But the Grail War…" He cut me off with a dismissive wave of his hand. "The Grail War is irrelevant. The Grail merely provided a convenient conduit. I have my own reasons for manifesting. And you, little magus, are now my vessel to explore this era further." My mind raced. I knew the legends, the stories of Gilgamesh's power, his arrogance, his ruthlessness. I was woefully unprepared to control someone like him. Hell, I was woefully unprepared for any Servant. I was a historian, not a warrior. "I... I don't understand," I stammered. "I don't want a war. I don't even know how to use Command Seals properly." Gilgamesh laughed again, a booming sound that echoed through the ruined castle. "War? Did you think I needed your permission to wage war, mongrel? You are merely a tool, a minor inconvenience. As for those baubles on your hand," he gestured dismissively towards my Command Seals, "I assume you know how those work. Bind me and I will simply break free. Try to give me orders that displeases me and you can be sure that will be your last order."