"Annanu?" Gilgamesh responded, turning his head to the side.
Annanu opened his eyes.
His voice was no longer the unconscious muttering from their journey, but carried a trace of returning clarity.
"Gil, where are we?"
Annanu could no longer see clearly. He could only speak beside Gilgamesh's ear.
He could sense a familiar presence, but he could not tell what it was.
"Annanu, this is the gate to the underworld. Wait a moment—I'll take you into the underworld right away."
Gilgamesh's voice trembled slightly.
Annanu was conscious again. There was still hope. There was still hope!
"Hey, young man."
The old woman standing beside Utnapishtim spoke up.
"Don't go any farther. That way leads to the underworld."
She was Antarat-Babisi, Utnapishtim's wife. Though she did not possess immortality, the long lifespan of the previous generation of humanity had kept her from dying thus far. Still, that day was not far off.
Yet she had come to terms with it. She only lamented why her husband could not, like her, escape the curse of eternal life.
Living for too long truly was a tragedy. If not to keep her beloved husband from becoming too lonely, she might have chosen long ago to end this lengthy journey.
"I'm going to the underworld." Gilgamesh did not look at Antarat-Babisi as he strode resolutely toward the underworld.
But—
"It's useless, Gil."
"Ereshkigal's Spear Gate can't save me."
Annanu's hoarse voice carried a trace of bitterness and self-mockery.
"No, I have to—" Gilgamesh still wanted to say something.
"I'm sorry, Gil."
Annanu's voice gradually faded.
He chose to loosen his hands, releasing Gilgamesh's neck.
"Don't let Ereshkigal see me like this."
"I gave her hope, and now I've hurt her. I can't let her fall into despair again."
Ah, a flower withered in the underworld.