[What a causeless statement. Gilgamesh glowered at Saber, his Noble Phantasm made of rotating blades as if Pee Wee Herman designed it stopping and the boil of magma beneath his feet becoming more audible in the gap of noise.]

I have no interest in purging life, Saber. There are those present already worthy of my rule.

[He glowered, wondering if this was another assumption she wore--because she knew him from another time.]

Do not play a game of assumption with me.