The one to answer him was not the very same one he'd offered the question to. More importantly, the answer was not at all an affirmative one. Hope, she spoke of after her lips gently met his forehead. Hope, she'd use in regards to any potential heir. It would be best stated that hope was something she applied to the future in its entirety. Gilgamesh did not share this hope. Matters were black and white, depending on which future he moved toward. Perhaps this clash of ideals would pave the way to something new─ something exhilarating. "Hmph. As you wish," he said.

Whether the queen's hope was something worthwhile or not, the immediate future was something determined by both parties in this room. He was to make an 'offering' as deeply as he could, according to the woman herself. How pointless; that instruction wasn't the least bit necessary for him to do so. Without hesitation and without fail, Gilgamesh would plunge one final time, breaching the final barrier to a new home. Not a drop would be wasted as it escaped his tool, even if it remained plentiful enough to flood the womb and flow back around his girth. Gilgamesh gleaned a strange amount of satisfaction from this feeling. In all the centuries of his life, and countless bedroom escapades, he'd never seemed so thoroughly pleased. This was something Gilgamesh himself took note of, and as such... he'd never let himself settle for life without the experience.