@goldcncrowned || cont’d.
“I do not stand in a coward’s place.” Once, and only once, had he stood in Gilgamesh’s shadow. Young and terrified, his feet had rooted themselves and remained planted to the ground when the very thing he had wanted was to fall to his knees in fear, to cower and crumble beneath the weight of his own anguish. He had felt small and insignificant, and yet that victory, no matter how unnoticed it had been, was his own. Second meetings were not the same, however.
A brow raised as the Archer neared closer, lips pursing into a thin line. The sight of him stirred the same unpleasant memories that he had pushed to the depths of his mind, swallowed down as he forced out another reply.
“I am...” There was no shame in being afraid of dying. His life as a Pseudo Servant was not as fragile if he were a mere magus, but he was not as infinite as the Heroic Spirit before him. It was all the more reason for him to act with more caution and fear the possibility. “But allowing my fear to rule over me would be a fool’s effort,” El-Melloi II retorted, height leering over Gilgamesh, unamused by their final remark. “Do not belittle me into thinking your generosity is a thoughtful gesture. I will stand where I please.”
