The sound of my alarm clock blared through the room, pulling me out of a deep sleep. I groaned, slapping at the nightstand until I found the snooze button. The digital display blinked a relentless 6:00 AM. I rubbed my eyes, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep, and stared at the ceiling, the events of the previous night feeling like a distant memory.

"Just a dream," I muttered to myself, still groggy. But as the seconds ticked by, the vividness of it began to fade, replaced by the dull routine of reality.

With a sigh, I rolled out of bed, my feet hitting the cold tile floor of my small apartment. The morning light filtered through the thin curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. I stretched, my body protesting the early hour, and made my way to the bathroom.

The usual routine followed: a quick shower, brushing my teeth, and getting dressed in my university uniform—black slacks, a white shirt, and a tie that I never bothered to wear properly. As I splashed water on my face, I stared at my reflection in the mirror. The face that looked back at me was familiar yet different. There was a weariness in my eyes, a lingering sense of unease that I couldn't quite shake.

"Get a grip, Darius," I muttered, shaking my head. "It's just another day."

I grabbed my backpack, slung it over my shoulder, and headed out the door. The apartment complex was quiet at this hour, the only sound being the distant hum of traffic. I made my way to the street, the cool morning air waking me up a bit more as I walked towards the bus stop.

Living in the bustling city of Yogyakarta, I was used to the noise, the crowds, and the fast pace of life. But today, everything felt… off. Like I was slightly out of sync with the world around me.

The bus ride to the university was uneventful. I found a seat near the back and plugged in my earphones, trying to drown out the noise of the city with some music. My thoughts drifted to my classes for the day—Thermodynamics in the morning, followed by Mechanics of Materials in the afternoon. It was the usual grind, nothing particularly exciting, but I couldn't help feeling a sense of dread about it all.

As the bus rumbled along, I glanced out the window, watching the city pass by. The streets were already bustling with life, people hurrying to work or school, vendors setting up their stalls, and students like me trudging towards another day of lectures. It was all so ordinary, so routine, and yet, the dream from last night clung to the edges of my mind, refusing to let go.

By the time I reached the university, the campus was alive with activity. Students were milling about, some chatting with friends, others rushing to their first classes. I made my way through the throngs of people, heading towards the engineering building.

The day started as usual, with me sliding into the lecture hall just in time. The professor for Thermodynamics was already scribbling equations on the whiteboard, his voice droning on about heat transfer and energy conservation. I pulled out my notebook and tried to focus, but my mind kept drifting back to the dream.

Gilgamesh, the King of Heroes… It was a name I'd heard before, but not in the context of a dream. In the VRMMO game I played, The Path of Heroes, Gilgamesh was a central figure, a legendary hero from ancient myths reimagined as a powerful and arrogant demigod.

The Path of Heroes was a game that had taken the world by storm—a virtual reality experience that combined the thrill of RPGs with the rich lore of ancient myths. It was set in a fantastical world where players could take on the roles of heroes, battling monsters, completing quests, and uncovering the mysteries of a world inspired by legends from various cultures. Gilgamesh, in particular, was a fan favorite, not just because of his incredible power, but because of the complex narrative surrounding his character.

The game developers had taken the ancient stories of Gilgamesh—the epic tales of his quest for immortality, his battles with gods and monsters, and his reign as the King of Uruk—and transformed them into an immersive fantasy experience. In The Path of Heroes, Gilgamesh was the gatekeeper of the ultimate treasure, the Gate of Babylonia, a powerful artifact that granted its wielder unimaginable power. Players could choose to ally with him, challenge him, or follow in his footsteps as they carved out their own legend in the game's world.

But last night's dream… it had felt so real. Gilgamesh had spoken to me, not as a character in a game, but as if he were alive, as if I were truly standing before him. The memory of his golden armor, his piercing eyes, and the weight of the axe in my hand sent a shiver down my spine.

I shook my head, trying to focus on the lecture. "Just a game," I reminded myself. "It's all just a game."

But as the day wore on, that sense of unease only grew stronger. I went through the motions—taking notes, attending lectures, grabbing lunch with some friends—but it all felt distant, like I was watching someone else live my life. The dream haunted me, a persistent whisper at the back of my mind.

By the time my afternoon class ended, I was more than ready to head home. I barely remembered the lecture on Mechanics of Materials, my notes a jumbled mess of half-written equations and doodles. I packed up my things and left the campus, eager to escape the suffocating sense of normalcy.

The bus ride home was a blur. I stared out the window, lost in thought, as the city passed by in a haze of motion and color. The sun was setting, casting long shadows across the streets, and the sky was painted in hues of orange and pink. It was beautiful, but I couldn't appreciate it. All I could think about was getting home and diving into The Path of Heroes.

When I finally reached my apartment, I dropped my backpack by the door and headed straight for my VR setup. The familiar sight of my VR headset and the sleek console it connected to brought a sense of comfort, a promise of escape from the troubling thoughts that had plagued me all day.

I slipped the headset on, adjusting the straps until it fit snugly, and activated the console. The world around me faded away as the VR system booted up, the familiar logo of The Path of Heroes appearing before my eyes. A soft chime sounded, and the main menu materialized in front of me, floating in a vast, starry void.

"Welcome back, Darius Caelum," the game's AI greeted me in its smooth, artificial voice. "Would you like to continue your previous session?"

I hesitated for a moment, my finger hovering over the confirmation button. Last night's dream had felt so real, and part of me wondered if it was connected to the game somehow. But that was ridiculous, wasn't it? This was just a game—a highly immersive one, but a game nonetheless.

With a deep breath, I pressed the button. The world around me dissolved into a swirl of colors, and then reformed into the familiar landscape of Uruk, the ancient city where Gilgamesh's legend had begun.

I stood on the outskirts of the city, the towering ziggurat of the Temple of Anu looming in the distance. The city was alive with activity—merchants hawking their wares, soldiers patrolling the streets, and citizens going about their daily lives. The graphics were stunning, as always, the attention to detail making it easy to forget that this was all virtual.

But something was different today. As I took a step forward, a sharp pain shot through my head, making me wince. It was like a jolt of electricity zipping through my brain, sudden and intense.

"Ah!" I gasped, clutching my head. The world around me flickered, the vibrant colors dimming for a moment before returning to normal.

"What the hell…?" I muttered, trying to shake off the sensation. I'd never experienced anything like that in the game before. It was disorienting, like my mind and the VR system were out of sync.

I took another step, and this time, the pain was worse. It felt like a surge of energy was being forced into my brain, overwhelming my senses. The world around me flickered again, but this time, it didn't return to normal. The colors bled together, the edges of the buildings warping and twisting like they were melting.

"No, no, no…" I mumbled, trying to pull myself out of the game, but the system wasn't responding. The pain intensified, and I felt a cold sweat break out on my forehead. It was like my brain was being electrocuted, every nerve ending on fire.

And then, just as suddenly as it had started, everything went black.

I was floating in a void, the pain receding into a dull throb. I couldn't see, couldn't hear, couldn't feel anything. It was like being submerged in deep water, my body weightless and disconnected from reality.

Panic set in. I tried to move, to reach out, but my limbs refused to respond. I was trapped, suspended in nothingness, with no way to escape.

And then, through the darkness, a voice echoed in my mind. It was the same voice from last night—the voice of Gilgamesh.

"Mongrel,"