Logic dictated that the entire ordeal was a crude joke. Sanity stated that he should’ve been locked in an asylum long before this moment existed. Reason implied that he belonged as a homeless, raving lunatic. After all, who could honestly buy the shit spewing from his mouth? A man who claimed to be half god, half human, descending from the heavens to reclaim what was rightfully his? I mean, the Western world bought into Jesus being the son of God because we were shamefully unenlightened about reality back then but now, in this day and age? No reasonable men and women would believe this malarkey.

And yet this crazy son of a bitch managed to quell the tumultuous conflict ravaging the Middle East within a month. Another month resulted in the unification of the warring tribes. Some deemed it a miracle of peace, but others argued that brutally murdering all the assorted factions’ leaders and installing himself as their undisputed dictator couldn’t exactly be called thus. Then again no one could really complain about the lack of terrorist threats emanating from that region, allowing the United States military to pull back freely. But of course they didn’t, because no country could take the introduction of a new power player lightly. Perhaps they still hoped his arrival was a global prank, a joke to frighten the world leaders, but some were beginning to accept, not out loud, but in the back of their minds that things would never be the same.

It wasn’t long before a network broadcasting crew decided to interview the demigod foreigner. After all, even if they didn’t particularly take him seriously, it would be a special broadcast that would appeal globally. Gilgamesh had demanded payment for ‘rewarding the unworthy mongrels the chance to hear their king speak’, which the network eagerly complied with. And here we now were, with the entire civilized world tuned to this broadcast.

”Who are you, and why do you deserve to rule the world?” The interviewer asked, torn between comical amusement and half-hearted curiosity as he handed the microphone over to the tall, dignified man bequeathed golden hair that reached toward the heavens like a blazing flame. Handsome with an elegant face, eyes crimson like blood that exuded a mysterious radiance that made those in his vicinity almost wither. A perfectly proportioned body, surpassing majestic that enthralled both men and women. Even the cameraman panned his device toward the foreigner for around 80% of the time, ignoring his fellow co-worker for the most part. And for good reason, for his co-worker seemed diminished, unimportant, as distinct and unique as the plain wall behind him in the presence of the demigod. In the background there was an obvious slurping sound, and yet neither men were drinking liquids according to the camera angle.

The man’s lip curled. “If you cannot discern my identity even in the presence of my glory, then-”

“It was a rhetorical question. You’re Gilgamesh; it was simply an opportunity for you to introduce yourself to our listeners and viewers.” The interviewer answered, holding back a snigger before clearing his throat. Gilgamesh stared at him, with the eyes of a person estimating the value of a possession in at a flea market, as if he was determining whether the interviewer deserved to live or not, but his thoughts were interrupted by a follow up question. “Why do you deserve to rule the world?”

“I’m simply reclaiming my birthright. My country, Mesopotamia and my capital, Uruk to start.”

“You mean modern day Iraq, Kuwait, Syria, some of Turkey and Iran, with Baghdad as your new capital?” Joshua, the interviewer interrupted once more. His face blanched slightly, noting the disturbing shadow that crossed Gilgamesh’s complexion. “So in regards to the current leaders of the world, the President of the United States, Queen of United Kingdom, and all the various parliaments, governments, and prime ministers scattered across the globe, they’re-“

“Mere pretenders, all of them.” The blonde stranger dismissed with a swish of his hand. “They’ve simply been maintaining my territories for me, akin to gardeners. But the time has come for them to swear fealty to my rule or be punished as rebel dogs. Of course if they do the former, I’ll allow them to become my vassals, perhaps even continue their rule over my lands as long as they proclaim themselves to my will alone.”

“O-kay.” Joshua responded, before moving onto the next topic scribbled on his notepad. “Now there’ve been reports that you donated a sperm sample to your kingdom’s scientists and they’ve publicly announced it grants those who consume it eternal youth. Three of them have claimed to even acquired immortality. Is this true?” Even he appeared astounded at this news, glancing at the girl before the demigod’s legs, the source of the slurping sound throughout the interview.

“A gift to my faithful subjects. I see no reason not to bequeath to them the same pleasures once I’ve had my fill of them. My sperm has only extend their youth by several years, but immortality isn’t impossible if I so wished it.” The girl at his knees eagerly sucking at his cock clearly believed so, eager to reap her own reward of his cum, only she didn’t realize that Gilgamesh could control its potency, and therefore, how it interacted with the human body. She had to perform much, much better to receive its age-stalling mechanisms for even a year. Enthusiastic, eager, no doubt. But inexperienced, and therefore a failure.

As for Gilgamesh’s sperm. Its potency was so great that women impregnated by it would give a painless, easy birth within two weeks, and the girl, always a girl, born into the world would mature fully within another two weeks. Such was his power, his ability. But he rarely recognized such a child, because a quarter god, three-fourth’s human being no more useful than a normal human.

“During your rise to power there was a lot of debate amongst the Jewish community about whether or not you were the Messiah they’ve been waiting for. Since the establishment of your rule in the Middle East, they’ve renounced their acceptance of you as their Messiah and now proclaim you to be the bringer of the apocalypse. Do you have any words to say about this?”

“In order to learn the joy of serving me, one must first learn pain. They’re welcome to repeat the lesson as many times as they wish. I’m sure they’ll make the wiser choice before their entire religion is exterminated. All shall be bathed in my color and mine alone.”

“Alright, well we’re going to take a 15 minute break. If you’re listening or watching this interview right now, call the number being shown on the screen if you’d like to ask our esteemed guest here a question. Sir you’re welcome to stay here or…” The interviewer stopped, staring at the beautiful woman engulfing the demigod’s erection before clearing his throat, standing up, and walking off camera, an obvious bulge outlined in his pants, but clearly smaller than the demigod’s. Gilgamesh leaned back, idly patted the woman’s head and awaited the man’s return. He had time, more than enough time, for the world was his garden, now and forevermore. And there was much pruning to do.

My 8th prompt and my Kinks and DPP Profile. I’ll leave the rest to you.