Enki was not returned to the throne room, but was led deeper into the palace's heart, to a place that smelled not of power, but of pure intellect. It was a vast, ordered space, a sanctuary of schematics. The air was thick with the scent of cedar sawdust, the ozone tang of crushed rock, and the sharp, clean scent of ink. Scrolls of intricate designs were weighted down with polished river stones, and miniature models of arches, aqueducts, and ziggurats covered low tables like a city of ghosts. ...This was the workshop of Lagnun, the Builder, the true engine of Uruk's terrifying perfection and Kur's chief architect. Lulal followed, a silent and awed shadow in this temple of design.
Lagnun stood before a vast wall... He did not turn as they entered.
"A three percent miscalculation," Lagnun said... his voice as flat and analytical as the lines on his wall. It held none of the King's political weight, only a dispassionate curiosity. "You diagnosed a systemic flaw from a single glance. Explain your methodology."
This was not a request. It was a demand for data, a peer review across the millennia.
Enki gave it to him, speaking in the cold, universal language of physics, material stress, and harmonic resonance. He was careful, precise, using concepts that a genius of this age could theoretically unearth.
Kur listened, his back still turned, occasionally giving a slight, acknowledging nod. Finally, he put down the charcoal and faced Enki. His eyes held no warmth, no ambition, only a blazing, intellectual fire. "Your data is sound. Your methodology is… efficient." His gaze flickered to Lulal, then back to Enki, and his offer was carefully, brilliantly veiled. "The King's vision is the future. Order from chaos. A world without famine, without the petty squabbles and failures of flawed men. Your mind—you see the true, invisible architecture of things, not the superstitions that cloud the eyes of the people." He gestured around the workshop, a sweeping motion that encompassed the soul of the city. "Why wander the dust, mending broken pots, when you can stand here and help us build a world that never breaks? Your knowledge belongs here. This is the only path that leads away from the dust."
The offer hung in the sawdust-laden air. To Enki, it was a clear, chilling proposition: an alliance of fellow Pioneers to build the sterile utopia the Ikannuna demanded. But to Lulal, it sounded like the supremely arrogant, yet logical, offer of one transcendent genius to another.