The World In One Place [Zerkey Turkey/Open]

"Depends on your standard."

The answer would come more as a bark than a comment, such was Gilgamesh's current... irritation. No, perhaps that was not the right word. In a way he was strangely satisfied at realizing why he had felt so strange recently, his instincts yelling some message he could not decipher at him. The answer was not something he'd expected, to say the least. It wasn't every day you casually stroll around and run into another copy of yourself. It was a situation that verged on the ridiculous, but he could not deny that it occurred. Despite the differences, namely the fact that she was a she, Gilgamesh had known the second he'd caught a glimpse of her in the corner of his eye, standing alone in the observation room, exactly who she was.

She was him. Of a sort.

Aside from the obvious, their physical similarities were too much to be considered a descendant or some such. No, she spoke the Unified Language, something those of the modern world could not even hope to comprehend or use. Gilgamesh himself could not wield the Language in a way that bent the will of humanity, but he could still recognize it and speak it with relative ease. His own response was in the language, and while he did not carry the same weight behind his words, he wasn't using them as an authoritative command anyway. Given whom she was, she could draw the same conclusion he had simply from hearing and seeing him speak.

Strolling into the room so that he was opposite his variant-self, across the massive display in the middle. Removing her from his gaze, [Something he did more to contain his boiling agitation at the situation] his eyes rested upon the massive, blackened sphere that represented the "future earth." Unlike the scurrying scientists of Chaldea, Gilgamesh did not consider the blackened earth as something of particular horror or terror. All things came to an end. To scurry hopeless against the inevitable seemed like an absolute waste of time; But at the same time, it was the most absolutely human thing Gilgamesh could think of. Their entire race was built on the idealization of defeating the impossible, so while he held a disdain for the organization, he could not begrudge their goal. Even if he had no faith in their capacity to accomplish it.

"What a wretched system."

Really. To summon another version of himself, while he already existed? What a joke.

"Their incompetence would be admirable, if it wasn't so insufferably ignorant."

It wasn't hard to pick up on the implications of his other self. Mostly because they shared general thought processes, though he did not like to put much thought into that particular train of thought. The very idea of someone else being able to interpret his own thoughts in the exact same manner as him was troubling. Even Enkidu, whom he had valued above all others, was a different person whom Gilgamesh could admire and respect for his differences. To have someone who thought and felt in the exact same way as him was more troubling than warming, but he could do little about it now.

Still, to tear open the gaps between universes was a respectable feat. It was a shame Chaldea didn't seem to realize the potential such a feat held. Gilgamesh would have assumed this world was naturally the later version of his own, but even that assumption was up for grabs given that he was staring straight at a him that obviously would have assumed the same, but both assumptions could not be true. It was a cosmic irony that in fact neither would be correct, and he was sure somewhere a golden douche was laughing his ass off about the absurdity of it. 

While his first notion was irritation and scorn, it seemed his counterpart disagreed. Maybe it was for the best she was not in fact exactly him; Or at least that she was of a calmer mind, being unrestricted as he was by the Berserker class. While somewhat begrudgingly, the Berserker deftly picked up the offered cup of wine, drinking the entire contents of it in little more than what he considered a sip. It was fine wine; The finest he'd had in Uruk, to be precise. It stirred a welcome feeling of nostalgia in the ancient Mesopotamian hero, and his mood simmered from agitation to a serene state for the first time in what seemed to be ages.

"Hm. Perhaps this foolish, doomed venture has some worth to it after all, if only to experience a measure of life again."

Gazing idly at the cup, his mind turned to the way in which she had presented it. Golden ripples, shining through the air as if opening a pathway to somewhere else, dispensing the object like a sort of machine. Gilgamesh had never seen something quite like it, which was only notable because she was literally him, and so her having such a foreign ability seemed particularly strange to him. Even as a Caster he would not possess such an ability, and so he could only conclude she was actually more removed from his own existence than he had originally surmised. Luckily she'd led with the Wine, otherwise such discrepancies might have made the easily agitated hero all the more well, agitated.

Now, it only made him curious.