Satria unfolded the gift he had received from the Dimensional Chat—a scroll shimmering with celestial light, inscribed with ancient runes. It was a Scroll of Guidance to Become an Emperor Deity.
With determination burning in his chest, Satria withdrew from the world. He sealed himself away in a realm of his own creation: a hidden sanctuary known as the Golden Emperor Realm, a world untouched by time, unseen by all.
Here, he began his solitary journey.
The first trial tested his endurance, strength, agility, and unwavering focus. Day after day, he pushed his body beyond mortal limits. He lifted stars and planets forged from his own energy, shouldered the weight of galaxies, sprinted through warps where hidden terrors lurked between folds of reality. His muscles strained, bones creaked, but he endured. Like the steel of an ancient blade tempered in endless fire, his body transformed into something far beyond human—a vessel worthy of wielding divine power.
It was during these trials that a flicker of something deeper stirred within him. A latent force, a sleeping dragon in his soul, beginning to awaken.
The second stage of his path led inward: the cultivation of Qi. Satria sat beneath the endless sky of his realm, drawing energy from the earth below and the heavens above, weaving them into his being. He meditated so deeply that his breath slowed, his pulse quieted, until his very presence merged with the universe itself. His body became as still and enduring as the mountains; his spirit soared beyond the stars.
Time lost meaning.
Was it ten years? A hundred? A thousand? In this endless void, there were no days, no nights—only the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against eternity.
Yet even after walking a path that mortals could not complete in millions of years, he knew… it was not enough.
He had to become stronger. He had to protect their smiles.
The path to immortality was long and treacherous. To ascend to the highest realms, he had to transcend mere strength. He had to commune with the divine, to pierce the veil between mortal and god.
And that final trial was not of body or mind—but of spirit.
To step forward, Satria would need to journey through his innermost self, confronting living embodiments of his fears, desires, and flaws. Only by conquering the shadows within could he hope to claim the mantle of Emperor Deity.
Suddenly, a being appeared—radiating an overwhelming aura of compassion and wisdom, a light so pure it transcended comprehension. The brilliance was enough to make mountains tremble and stars bow. Yet Satria, sovereign of his realm and master of his universe, stood calm and unfazed.
At last, the figure spoke, his voice a serene melody that carried both kindness and gravity.
"Finally… we meet, young man."
Satria slowly opened his eyes, rising from meditation, a flicker of surprise crossing his features. For someone to enter this realm—his Golden Emperor Realm, hidden even from the gods themselves—was no trivial feat.
"…Who are you?"
The being smiled gently, light shimmering around him like a halo of eternity.
"I am known to your world as Jibril… or Gabriel. The one who carries divine revelations to the prophets of our Creator."
Satria's gaze sharpened, but his expression remained composed. "I see… then please, have a seat." The Golden Emperor bowed respectfully, his tone neither deferential nor confrontational, but poised with genuine curiosity. "Tell me… how did you find this place? Even Veldenava, Alaya, or Dora-chan—who keep stalking me for reasons I'll never understand—can't pierce the veil of this realm. Yet you walked in as if it were a garden path."
Gabriel chuckled softly, a sound both ancient and soothing. "You still have much to learn about the worlds beyond worlds, Satria. Those you mentioned… powerful as they are, they are still beings born from creation itself, shaped by the will of mortals." His eyes glimmered with ethereal depth. "We—messengers of the Most High—are different. We are spirits of pure devotion. We exist only to serve our Creator's will."
He gestured warmly. "Ask, then. Whatever burden weighs your heart, I am permitted to answer."
Satria's brow furrowed slightly. This was the real thing. A genuine angel—pure, radiant, immeasurably powerful. So many questions raced through his mind. But one stood above them all.
He took a steady breath. "There's something I must understand, Gabriel." His voice carried a gravity befitting a ruler, yet tinged with sincere longing. "In my world, we have three great faiths: Judaism, Christianity, and Islam. All claim to worship You. Yet they differ… and at times, even war against each other. I wish to know the truth."
He leaned forward, his gaze unwavering. "Are they the same? And if they are… why are they divided? Was this Your will—or is it humanity's misunderstanding?"
Gabriel's light pulsed softly, like a heartbeat of the cosmos. His smile was both bittersweet and proud.
"Satria, seeker of truth… yours is a noble question. But know this: the answer lies not in the heavens alone, but in the hearts of mortals."
Satria listened intently as Gabriel's voice resonated—not just in his ears, but in the very fabric of his soul.
"Our Creator revealed Himself to humanity at different times, in different lands, through different words. Judaism, Christianity, Islam… they are streams from the same divine source. Each message is shaped by the needs of its people, its moment in history, its unique struggles."
Satria's eyes gleamed with a sharp understanding. "Then… their differences are context and interpretation, not essence?"
"Exactly," Gabriel affirmed, his radiance growing warmer. "At their core, they all call humanity to love, to justice, to compassion, to truth. But humanity… ah, humanity so often clings to form over substance. They grasp at names and symbols, forgetting the unity beyond."
A quiet sigh, like wind across eternity.
"They divide not because the Divine is divided, but because their pride, fear, and greed blind them. They fight over our creator names, forgetting that God is—beyond name, beyond form, beyond doctrine."
"Did You intend this division?" Satria asked softly, his tone probing yet respectful.
The radiant presence answered, its voice like a gentle current of light.
"No. Our Creator did not desire their strife."
A faint sadness echoed in those words.
"Our Creator granted humanity free will — a gift, and a burden. It is in their nature to question, to interpret, to search for meaning. I hoped they would see unity in their diversity, that they would recognize it's presence in each other. But many instead saw their differences as barriers. This was not God will… but their choice."
Satria tilted his head slightly, his gaze sharp and thoughtful. "Then… what of their scriptures? Surely the discrepancies among them add to the conflict."
The light pulsed softly, almost sorrowfully.
"Each scripture carries truth — yet none can fully contain the Infinite. They are like mirrors reflecting fragments of My essence, each shaped by the language and understanding of their time. When mortals forget this — when they treat their scripture as the only complete truth — they build walls rather than bridges."
Satria was silent, absorbing the weight of these revelations. His mind turned, seeking the next truth.
"If they are all mirrors of truth," he asked slowly, "what would You have them do to reconcile?"
The voice softened, filled with infinite patience, as if embracing all of humanity's struggles.
"I would have them listen — truly listen — to each other… and to the still, small voice within their own hearts. True faith is not found in conquest, nor in superiority, but in humility, in love, in the recognition of God presence in all things. When they open their eyes to that, they will see they were never divided."
Satria's brow furrowed slightly, his expression thoughtful. "And yet… many still fight in God's name, claiming to defend it. Does this not offend God and you?"
The light radiated a profound calm, as if the very concept of offense was too small to contain it.
"I am beyond offended. I know their hearts. Their zeal often masks fear or ignorance. What grieves Me is not their passion — but their failure to see that our Creator need no defense. God is, unthreatened by mortals. What our Creator desires is not their battles, but their love… their compassion… for one another."
Satria bowed his head slightly, his voice low with awe and quiet determination. "Your words are clear. Yet the challenge lies in their hearts. I see now that the conflict is not of Your making, but of their misunderstanding. I will take this wisdom back to my world… and teach it to those who will listen."
The light pulsed one final time, radiating a peace so deep it wrapped the very air in stillness.
"Thank you, Boy. Do you have another question?"
Satria lifted his head, his red eyes steady.
Satria took a steady breath, his eyes sharp. "Can I go back home to my original world? As you know… the world I live in now is a work of fiction. And the longer I stay here, the more I see — pantheons, gods, demons, myths, all of them exist. So… how do you explain the existence of other religions besides the Abrahamic one, if our God is truly the One True God?"
Jibril nodded slowly, his radiant form pulsing with gentle understanding. "I see… You carry many questions in your heart, Satria."
He raised a graceful hand. "To answer your first question: yes, it's possible for you to return to your original world. But I'm afraid your wives would have difficulty following you there. In your home world, all things supernatural — magic, miracles, divine forces — are veiled, nullified, hidden by Our Creator, in accordance with the prayers and requests of His prophets. I can provide you with the coordinates to open a connection, if you wish — but you must follow the rules of our world carefully."
Satria's eyes widened, a soft smile tugging at his lips. "Wait… you mean, I can meet my family again? That's… incredible news."
Jibril's expression softened, her voice tender. "Yes. We know how deeply you care for them. We hear your prayers — the longing you carry in your heart. Your family… they grieve deeply, but they have not given up. Even now, they continue searching for you."
Satria blinked in surprise, then let out a laugh. "What? They're still searching? But I got hit by truck-kun! How do they even know I'm alive in another world?" He chuckled, shaking his head. "Haha! I always suspected there was something a little unusual about my family…"
Jibril smiled gently. "Indeed. Now… let me answer your second question."
His voice became more solemn, the light around her shifting with a weight of ancient memory.
"Long ago, before humanity ever walked the earth, Our Creator made the first civilization. These were not humans, but beings of immense power — aided by divine gifts, advanced technology, endless abundance. They were given every tool they needed to thrive, to live in peace. But over time… they turned away. Pride blossomed. Rebellion stirred. And soon, an age began where evil triumphed over righteousness."
Satria's breath caught, eyes wide with awe. "So… God was disappointed in them?"
Jibril gave a solemn nod. "Yes. And thus, He decided to reshape the universe. But not all of the old ones were destroyed. The pagan gods you know — the so-called deities of myths — they are survivors of that lost civilization, along with creatures like the demons or Iblis, who refused to bow to Adam because of their pride."
Satria let out a low whistle. "That's… unbelievable. I never imagined there was a story like that behind it all. No wonder God doesn't reveal Himself openly." He gave a wry grin. "I mean… honestly, would we bow to a new creation if God made one to replace us? Probably not. And this lost civilization — they sound insanely powerful. I wonder how advanced they really were."
Jibril's eyes glimmered softly. "They were powerful, yes. Powerful enough… to face the Agents of Outer Gods."
Satria straightened, blinking. "Wait — what? Outer Gods? That's the first time I've heard that term."
Jibril's expression darkened ever so slightly. "Yes… beings born from the Void. Chaos entities that seek to break the firmament of creation, to unleash hell upon the Earth. They whisper now to mortals, feeding on the decline of faith as humanity drifts further into modernity and forgets the light. If they succeed… not only your world, but the entire multiverse — even the world you now reside in — will suffer their corruption."
Satria's brows furrowed deeply. "…That sounds really bad. Are we talking… like, Dajjal? The Antichrist?"
Jibril shook his head slowly. "No… they are not the same, but they are equally in danger. Dajjal or Antichrist is but one figure. The Outer Gods are far older… far more insidious."
Satria clenched his fists slightly, his mind racing. "Then… why not just reveal the truth to humanity? Show them what's coming, unite them before it's too late?"
Jibril's voice grew quiet, filled with a sorrowful wisdom. "Sometimes, Satria… it is better not to know. The consequences of revealing certain truths are too great. Minds would break. Faith would collapse under the weight of it. We cannot risk it."
Satria fell silent, his eyes shadowed with heavy thoughts. The vastness of the cosmos — the threads of divine history, of old civilizations, of hidden threats — all pressed against him at once.
He let out a long breath. "…I understand."
Jibril's light pulsed gently, his serene voice echoing through the vast stillness. "Do you have another question, Golden Emperor?"
Satria let out a long breath, his eyes narrowing slightly as his thoughts raced. "…The truth? I have so many questions swirling in my head right now… but honestly, I'm too shocked to process them all. So I'll ask just this, the last one — why did you come here? I believe there's a reason, isn't there?" His gaze sharpened with quiet intensity.
Jibril's glow softened, as if smiling. "Yes… You were fated to have a purpose in our world. To guide…" He hesitated for a moment. "…But that purpose has changed."
Satria let out a dry, almost exasperated groan. "Oh, give me a break… What kind of purpose? I'm just a normal human from my old world — a guy who worked part-time and played video games professionally. If you can read my thoughts, you know I never had some grand scheme or something like that. Everything I have now… it's just because the situation forced me into it. Nothing more."
Jibril's light shimmered softly, almost fondly. "You underestimate yourself, Satria. Even with all the power, all the authority you now wield — you have not changed. Indeed, you are not perfect, but look around you: the people you lead, the lives you touch, the smiles you protect… You are already doing more than most ever could."
Her voice grew gentle, reverent. "Despite your overwhelming strength, you have remained true to yourself. Few can claim that. You continue to help those around you — not for glory, not for dominance, but because it is in your heart to do so. And you have not forgotten Our Creator along the way."
Jibril's glow dimmed slightly, as if in sorrow. "It is unfortunate that Indonesia had to lose you… for you would have ushered in a new era for your nation, had you remained."
Satria scratched the back of his head, his voice softening. "Geez… I don't even know what to say to that…" He looked up, meeting his light. "Do you need something from me?"
Jibril's voice became tender, almost sorrowful. "Nothing… except an apology."
Satria blinked in surprise. "…Apology?"
"Yes. An apology — for failing to prevent what happened to you. For not being there when you were pulled into this fate." He paused. "Please, Satria… follow what your heart tells you. I only hope you do not repeat the mistakes of those who came before. Spread guidance with love, not with hate."
Satria smiled faintly, his eyes warm. "Don't worry… I'll make sure of that." He nodded firmly.
Jibril's light pulsed once, warmly. "Thank you. And as a token of apology, we will grant you something — something to protect your new kingdom. Dark forces will soon turn their gaze upon you, and you will need it."
He raised his hands in farewell, her voice echoing one last time. "Assalamualaikum."
Satria bowed slightly, his voice soft. "Waalaikumsalam."
As the radiant light of Jibril faded from his realm, Satria closed his eyes briefly. When he opened them, his senses stretched out, connecting to the vast threads of energy across his domain. He reached out with his power, checking the state of Tempest, his kingdom — and then…
Suddenly, something otherworldly surged into his awareness. A ripple in the fabric of space, a shiver through the weave of reality itself.
Satria's eyes snapped wide open. His breath caught.
"…This is…"
•
Satria approached the Sacred Pool of Memories, one of the divine gifts from the Biblical God of his original world — a mystical body of water hidden deep within the heart of Heaven. It was said that anyone who gazed into its depths would confront not the world's trials, but the trials of their own soul.
He stood before the pool, its surface shimmering with an ethereal glow, his heart pounding like a war drum.
With a slow breath, Satria leaned forward and gazed into the water.
Visions swirled before him — his past, his present, and fragmented glimpses of the future. He saw his family's smiling faces, felt the echoes of his struggles, and sensed the gnawing fear of failure that had always lingered just out of sight. But then… the greatest challenge emerged.
From the depths rose a dark figure — a silhouette shaped like himself, yet twisted, its aura oppressive and cold.
It was his shadow, the embodiment of all his insecurities and self-doubt.
The figure's voice was a whisper, yet it struck like thunder in Satria's heart.
"You are not worthy. You are just a mortal — a fleeting dream, lost in the endless universe."
Satria's fists clenched, his breath quickened. He struggled against the pull of despair, the weight of that voice pressing down like a mountain. But then… something within him shifted.
In that moment, he understood.
The only way forward was not to defeat the shadow, but to accept it — to embrace both his strengths and his flaws, his light and his darkness.
He let out a slow breath, loosening his fists, and placed a hand on his chest. "I am not perfect. I never was. And that's what makes me human."
His heart opened. A surge of pure energy erupted from within, light pouring out like a rising sun, engulfing the dark figure in its radiance. The shadow screamed — not in pain, but in release — before dissolving into the light, becoming part of him once more.
When the vision faded, Satria stood at the edge of the pool, his reflection shimmering with newfound clarity. He was forever changed. He had passed the test.
He had unlocked the True Path of the Satria — the first step toward ascending as the True Golden Emperor.
•
Years passed.
Satria's power grew in leaps and bounds. He learned to command the elements, bend time, and shape the very fabric of the universe itself. Worlds turned their gaze toward him in awe, ancient beings whispered his name in fear and reverence.
Until one day…
He felt it. A subtle shift within the very heart of Heaven — a ripple across the divine planes.
Satria rose from his meditation, his aura humming with immeasurable power. He looked out across his vast domain, a soft, knowing smile touching his lips.
"…After all this time… finally."
He whispered to himself, raising his gaze to the endless heavens.
"I've achieved my goal. I don't know who this Yansen truly is, but… thank you, for guiding this humble disciple to where I stand now."
His power now lay beyond mortal comprehension, surpassing even the most ancient gods. He had transcended time and space, his essence intertwined with the very weave of existence.
And yet…
Despite all this, a longing remained. A quiet ache in his chest.
Home.
Family.
Satria closed his eyes, his thoughts drifting back. 'Maybe… it's because of my nature as an Indonesian. I can't live without the warmth and love of family. Maybe that's not a weakness — maybe that's a blessing.'
He chuckled softly at the thought, but before he could sink deeper into his reflection —
Inside Satria's mind, familiar voices echoed — distinct, sharp, and unfiltered.
[Goldy]: "I have to admit, even for an idiot, you shine brighter than anyone else… but I'm glad you're my host. Now, let's show the world why only you deserve the title of Golden Emperor."
Satria smirked faintly, the corners of his mouth twitching.
[Darkest]: "Hmph. Idiots always rush before thinking. You're the clearest example of that."
Satria gave a short laugh. "Yeah, yeah, I know… but it's worked so far, hasn't it?"
[Kyoka]: "Huwaaaa!!! You're the most beautiful, amazing man I've ever seen, Boss!!! That prick Aizen? He's just a cheap street performer compared to you!"
Satria ran a hand through his hair, half-exasperated, half-amused. "Kyoka, you're way too dramatic…"
But even as they bantered within, the power around him surged, vibrating through the very fabric of existence.
With a single, deliberate motion, Satria raised his hand — fingers spreading slightly, palm facing forward.
The air itself shuddered.
A sharp crack echoed through the realm as if reality were made of glass under pressure. Fine golden lines spiderwebbed through the space before him, shimmering and flickering like a mirror about to break.
With a smooth sweep of his arm, he sliced through the fabric of space.
The air split open, a jagged rift tearing wide — edges glowing like molten gold, the light bending unnaturally around it. Before him hung a gateway, a swirling portal bridging realms, the path between worlds beckoning.
Satria narrowed his eyes, his aura blazing softly.
With a confident step forward, Satria crossed into the gateway — a figure no longer bound by the limits of gods or mortals, a being ready to carve his own legend across the multiverse.
•
Fatalis yawned softly, stretching in her cozy sleeping pajamas. She shuffled into the dining room, blinking sleepily.
"Where's Satria? It's unusual for him not to be here first," she mumbled, rubbing her eyes. After all, her husband was usually up before anyone — sometimes even the one cooking breakfast.
"Master is… training somewhere," Jeanne said as she stirred the pot calmly, working alongside Rimuru. "He said it wouldn't take long."
"Hmph… good for him," Rimuru added, tying her cute apron neatly. "That lazy bum needs to move his body sometimes."
Suddenly, the air around them shimmered — reality itself rippled as if holding its breath.
CRACK.
A golden rift split open in the outdoor dining room, and through it stepped Satria.
His presence was overwhelming. Time seemed to pause, the very atmosphere thick with divine energy. His long white hair fluttered in the breeze, and as he calmly crossed the room, dubstep music blared faintly in the background, making the entire moment feel absurdly cinematic.
Satria sat down at the table without a care, casually picking up his breakfast. "Mm, this is good," he said, happily eating Rimuru and Jeanne's cooking.
Everyone else? Frozen in shock.
"What?" Satria looked up at them, blinking innocently.
"Don't 'what' me, young man!!" Great Red roared, her voice shaking the space. "How?! What are you now?!"
Koneko clutched her chest, gasping. "I… I can't breathe… Senpai… your power… it's suffocating…"
Valiana trembled, her eyes wide. "How… how can I, the White Dragon Emperor, even stand before you? I feel so… small…"
Albion was practically screaming in disbelief. "W-What the hell is this power?! He... He is invincible! He has no weakness! Even if all the factions in this world united, they couldn't match him! He's Immortal! Unkillable! Unmatched! This is the rebirth of the Perfect Lifeforms, the Ultimate Being, Satria!"
Crom clenched her fists, then slowly relaxed, a resigned smile on her lips. "Dear… I've called the strongest evil dragons, wielded fire feared across realms… and yet you stand beyond everything I ever imagined. I… can't even comprehend you anymore."
Ophis stared, her face flushed, whispering almost desperately: "My mate…" She trembled slightly, her thoughts spiraling: 'I… I want him. Hug me, kiss me, hold me, claim me…'
Rimuru's face turned bright red as she nervously fidgeted. "Is this… real?" she murmured under her breath, heart pounding. 'Hehe~ Today's my lucky day since I won the bet. He's mine alone today… I can't wait for our date… Wait, what am I thinking?! Why am I acting like a lovestruck maiden? Ahhh!! I am!'
Inside his mind, his inner voices chattered wildly.
[Ifrit]: "Waaaah!!! Seriously, how can a human hold this kind of power?! It's insane!"
[Veldora]: "At last! A worthy rival! I've been waiting for this moment! I can't wait to face him!"
Jeanne, meanwhile, found herself wondering quietly: 'What would it be like to stand at his side, to truly stand beside someone like him…? Master, you've become something beyond anything I've ever known…'
Satria gave a long sigh, eyeing Ophis carefully. "Ophis… no. It's morning. We're not doing that right now. Where's my horny bonk when I need it?"
Inside his mind:
[Goldy]: "How can you still be the same dumbo after all that training and transformation? You forgot to suppress your aura!"
Satria's eyes widened slightly. 'Ah… crap. My bad.'
With a subtle shift, he immediately suppressed his aura, scaling his overwhelming presence back down to that of a normal human. The room exhaled collectively as the suffocating pressure lifted.
'Good thing we reinforced the house with barriers,' Satria thought wryly. 'If we hadn't, the whole world would've been in an uproar.'
Fatalis clasped her hands behind her back, leaning forward with a sweet, innocent smile — though the gleam in her eyes betrayed a far more mischievous intent.
"I was thinking, dear…" she purred softly, her tail flicking behind her. "You've been working so hard lately — guiding us, training, completing all those group missions. Don't you think you deserve a little break?"
Satria arched an eyebrow, his expression shifting from unreadable calm to his familiar, playful grin. "A break, huh? And what do you suggest I do with this 'break'?"
Fatalis's grin widened as she clasped her hands together excitedly. "A date! With me and Rimuru, of course! We could visit your homeland, stroll under the moonlight… and, well, maybe I can teach her a thing or two about… you know what I mean~?" She winked slyly, making the little blue slime beside her blush furiously.
"F-Fatalis-san! That's cheating!" Kiyohime stormed over, her sharp voice cutting through the room. "I want a date with Danna-sama too!" she huffed, puffing out her cheeks adorably.
Before Satria could even open his mouth, another voice joined in — cool, elegant, and laced with calm authority.
"Satria doesn't need your childish antics, Fatalis," Great Red said smoothly, approaching with regal grace. Her long red robes shimmered like liquid fire, her golden eyes holding a quiet pride. "If anyone were to accompany him and the Empress, it should be someone who can hold a proper conversation — like me. Not someone just seeking attention."
Rimuru, , who had been quietly fidgeting, suddenly stepped forward. Her tone was calm but resolute, her aura radiating a gentle but undeniable finality.
"It's my turn today."
The room quieted as all eyes turned to her. Rimuru gave a determined nod. "You all can wait your turn. I want to see his homeland… I want to understand the place that shaped him into who he is."
Fatalis and Great Red both pouted, though neither put up further argument. Instead, they exchanged knowing glances, their lips curling into mischievous smirks.
"Enjoy your honeymoon!" Fatalis teased with a playful lilt, while Great Red added softly, "Try not to exhaust each other too much…"
Both Satria and Rimuru turned bright red, their eyes darting away from each other as their hearts hammered in their chests.
Satria cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his head. "Ah… right… a date, huh? Guess I better prepare…"
•
After countless adventures across the multiverse, Satria decided it was time to establish something permanent — a connection between the myriad worlds he had touched.
With his boundless power, he constructed a grand Interdimensional Portal within the home he had purchased in the Marvel world.
This portal was no ordinary gateway. It shimmered with ethereal brilliance, its surface a constantly shifting dance of gold and silver hues. The frame was crafted from celestial materials that resonated with the essence of every world Satria had visited, engraved with runes and sigils of immense complexity — a living masterpiece of cosmic engineering.
As the portal pulsed softly, Rimuru a approached, her curious blue eyes wide with wonder. Her soft blue hair caught the glow, sparkling like liquid sapphire under the light.
"Satria," she murmured, almost breathless, "You know… I just had a revelation." Her eyes sparkled with an entirely different kind of excitement.
Satria tilted his head slightly, curious. "Oh?"
Rimuru whipped out a small notebook, flipping it open to reveal pages crammed with doodles, charts, and half-formed business plans. "Satria, this portal — it's a gold mine! Do you have any idea how much money we could make with this?"
Satria's brows raised ever so slightly. "Explain."
Rimuru beamed, tapping her pen eagerly. "Think about it: interdimensional tourism, trade, luxury imports! Imagine selling advanced medical tech from one world, exotic delicacies from another, high-end magical artifacts, or even unique entertainment. We could charge entry fees, set up multiverse shops, build partnerships — we could create a network that spans entire realities! We'd be rich!"
For a moment, Satria stood perfectly still. Then his eyes softened with a smile.
"Rich, you say? I like the sound of that." His voice was calm, but a playful glimmer sparked in his gaze. "However… remember: this portal connects to worlds of both great opportunity and great danger. Reckless pursuit of wealth could invite disaster."
Inside his mind, a voice cackled.
[Darkest: WOW! He actually became wiser! Who is this Yansen? We should track him down and thank him for boosting your IQ.]
'I can hear you, asshole!' Satria thought sharply. 'You're just jealous I'm the smarter one now.'
[Goldy: Nope.]
Meanwhile, Rimuru remained undeterred, nodding enthusiastically. "Of course, Satria! We'd take precautions. Security measures, risk assessments, maybe even… insurance!"
Satria chuckled softly. "Sure, let's talk about that later."
He reached out and gently patted Rimuru's head, his fingers brushing through her silky-soft blue hair.
"Cute," he murmured fondly.
"W-Wha… C-cute…? D-Don't… ah… hawuu!" Rimuru s squeaked, blushing a deep crimson as she melted under his touch. Despite her usual confidence, she secretly adored moments like this — when Satria treated her so gently, so naturally.
Satria, feeling unusually content and relaxed, glanced down at Rimuru with a playful glint in his golden eyes. "So, Rimuru… how about we make things a bit more cozy between us? You know, maybe call me something cute — dear, honey, anata… or something like that?"
Rimuru blinked up at him, her large blue eyes widening in surprise. For a moment, she just stared, her cheeks slowly tinting a soft pink. Then, a small, slightly flustered smile tugged at the corner of her lips.
"A-Anata?" she echoed with a little laugh, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "That's… a bit formal for me, don't you think?"
Satria gave her a teasing grin, leaning in just a little closer. "Hey, I'm just trying to make us sound more… close. You know, like a couple. We could be all cutesy and affectionate, right? What do you think?" His voice carried that familiar light, teasing tone — the one that always made Rimuru's heart skip a beat, no matter how many times she told herself she was above such silly flustering.
Rimuru let out a small laugh, shaking her head. "I guess… I can call you dear for now. But don't get used to it!" She pointed a playful finger at his chest, though her heart fluttered dangerously in her chest at the simple word.
Satria's chuckle was warm, his usual mischievous energy taking on a softer, more affectionate edge. Without thinking, he gently pulled her a little closer, his arm slipping around her waist with an easy familiarity.
"Deal, dear." His grin widened, eyes sparkling with playful affection. "But since we're being all cozy and affectionate now… how about we go out for a bite to eat? I know a great place around here."
Rimuru's blush deepened, but she smiled genuinely, warmth blooming in her chest. "Okay, okay… lead the way, dear." She giggled softly, enjoying the way the word sounded on her lips — and the way Satria's eyes lit up when he heard it.
As they stepped toward the shimmering interdimensional portal, the world seemed to slow for just a moment, wrapping them both in a quiet, shared moment of happiness.
•
Satria leaned casually against the gleaming black McLaren he'd just bought, its sleek body shimmering under the afternoon sun. The car looked like something pulled straight from a dream — sharp, aggressive, and dripping with luxury.
Rimuru stood a few steps away, eyes wide, mouth slightly open in amazement.
"This… this is your car?" she asked, half in awe, half in disbelief.
Satria smirked, folding his arms with the smug satisfaction of someone very pleased with himself.
"Yup. Gorgeous, isn't it? Just like its owner."
Rimuru rolled her eyes, though she couldn't hide the grin tugging at the corners of her mouth as she stepped closer, her fingers brushing lightly over the polished surface.
"I've never even been near a car like this, let alone ridden in one. How do you even afford something like—" She stopped herself, realizing how silly the question sounded. "Why am I even asking? You're a billionaire — no, wait, Fatalis-san said you might be a trillionaire at this point."
Satria gave a dramatic shrug. "What can I say? A man of my caliber deserves a ride that matches his greatness. Sure, I have custom models even better than this one, but… this'll do for now."
With a flourish, he opened the passenger door for her, bowing slightly. "Come on, dear, hop in. Time to see how it feels to ride in style."
Still a little hesitant, Rimuru slid i slid into the passenger seat, her eyes darting over the plush leather interior and the sleek, high-tech dashboard. Satria settled into the driver's seat, his grin widening as he pressed the ignition.
The engine roared to life — a deep, powerful sound that made Rimuru jump s jump slightly in her seat.
"That's… loud." She shot him a nervous look. "Are we about to take off like a rocket?"
Satria's grin turned mischievous. "Pretty much. Buckle up, My Empress. You're about to experience true luxury."
With a smooth press of the accelerator, the car glided onto the road, then surged forward. Satria weaved through traffic effortlessly, occasionally accelerating just enough to make Rimuru clutch the seat in wide-eyed surprise.
"Are you sure this is legal?!" she yelped as they zipped past another car.
"Relax! I've got everything under control. This baby was made for this," Satria chuckled, throwing her a quick wink.
Noticing her mix of nerves and excitement, he leaned back slightly, his grin smug. "Admit it — you're impressed."
Rimuru h huffed, trying to maintain her composure. "I'm impressed you haven't been pulled over yet!"
Satria laughed, the sound bubbling out of him easily, clearly enjoying every second of her reactions.
Eventually, they slowed as they reached a quieter district, a charming street lined with small, cozy restaurants. Satria pulled smoothly into a parking space, cutting the engine and stretching with a satisfied sigh.
"So? What do you think? Not bad for your first ride in a supercar, huh?"
Rimuru l let out a long breath, still catching her breath. "I think you enjoyed that way more than I did… but okay, I'll admit — it was kind of fun."
Inside her mind, voices stirred:
[Veldora: I want one of these 'supercars'! Rimuru, my best friend! Please, buy me one!]
[Ifrit: Me too! Me too!]
Rimuru t twitched slightly, her eyebrow ticking. 'You two are so loud! Do you have any idea how expensive these cars are? And honestly, just imagining you two driving one gives me a bad feeling…'
[Veldora: But before you met him, weren't you—]
'Is a… what?' Rimuru pressed.
[Veldora: N-Nothing, ma'am! I'm sorry!]
Shaking off the mental chatter, Rimuru followed Satria as he led her toward a small, local warung he'd picked out. Despite owning a flashy supercar, he'd insisted on finding a cozy, humble place with authentic, down-to-earth food.
"Fancy car, simple food. Best of both worlds, right?" Satria grinned as they approached.
Rimuru l laughed softly, shaking her head. "You're impossible, you know that?"
Satria smirked, slipping his hands casually into his pockets. "And yet… you're still here. Guess that means I'm doing something right."
Rimuru felt her cheeks warm, but she couldn't help smiling. "Yeah… you definitely are."
As they settled into their seats at the small warung, the aroma of grilled satay and freshly fried tempeh wafted through the air. Rimuru found herself smiling more than she had in a long time. Satria might be ridiculous sometimes, but there was never a dull moment with him — and today felt… special.
Satria leaned back casually, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "So… what do you think of my hometown?"
Rimuru took a moment to glance around, her wide blue eyes reflecting the colorful lanterns strung overhead. The streets outside were alive with energy — bustling street vendors, families laughing over meals, the hum of scooters weaving through traffic.
"This is… an amazing experience," she finally said, her voice filled with wonder. "The city feels so alive. The people, the culture — everything has this kind of energy I've never seen before."
Satria chuckled softly, clearly pleased. "Surabaya's always been like this. It's a city full of stories. From our history of resistance to colonial powers to the blending of cultures — you'll find a bit of everything here. There's a reason we're called the City of Heroes."
Rimuru n nodded thoughtfully, her gaze lingering on the lively street. "I can see why you're so proud of this place. It's beautiful." She paused, tilting her head curiously. "Colonialism… from who?"
Satria's expression grew more reflective. "Well, Indonesia was colonized by the Dutch for a long time. But during World War II, Japan also occupied us for a few years."
Rimuru blinked, caught off guard. "Japan? My Japan? They occupied your country? I… didn't know that."
Satria gave a slow nod. "Yeah. It's not something people in Japan talk about much these days, is it?"
Rimuru's brow furrowed, her playful mood dimming. "No… not really. In school, we learn about World War II, but it's mostly from the perspective of how Japan was bombed, how we rebuilt, how we became a peaceful nation. They never go into much detail about what Japan did to other countries. What… what happened?"
Satria's gaze turned distant, his voice softening but steady. "During the occupation, the Japanese military was… ruthless. They forced people to work under brutal conditions, stripped resources, and treated the locals with cruelty. Many suffered — especially the women, who faced… terrible abuses."
The weight of his words hung in the air.
Rimuru's shoulders sagged, her usual confidence crumbling as guilt flickered across her face. "I… I had no idea. I knew Japan was involved in wars, but I didn't know it was like that. And not just Indonesia?"
Satria shook his head slowly. "Not just us. Korea, China… they suffered a lot too. In China, there was the Nanking Massacre — one of the darkest chapters in history. And in Korea, people were treated as second-class citizens. Even now, those wounds haven't fully healed. There's still resentment."
Rimuru lowered her gaze, her voice a whisper. "That's… horrible. I don't even know what to say. I've always thought of Japan as my home, a place of peace and harmony. To hear that we caused so much pain…"
Seeing her trembling slightly, Satria reached out, placing a gentle hand on her arm. "Hey. Don't beat yourself up over it. That was decades ago — you're not responsible for the actions of the past."
"But still," Rimuru m murmured, her voice quivering, "it's my country. My people. I feel like I should've known. Like I should've done something."
Satria gave a small, warm smile, shaking his head. "There's nothing you could've done, Rimuru. What matters is now — the present, the future. Look, I don't hold a grudge against Japan anymore. Over time, Indonesia and Japan built a strong relationship. We trade, we share culture, we help each other. Things have changed for the better."
Rimuru slowly lifted her eyes to meet his, a flicker of hope returning. "Really? You don't hate Japan?"
Satria chuckled softly. "No, I don't. I can't speak for China or Korea — they have their own grievances, and I don't blame them. But for me… holding onto hatred doesn't heal anything. Instead, I focus on how far we've come, and how we can build bridges for the future."
A faint, grateful smile touched Rimuru's lips. "You're… really amazing, you know that? To let go of something so painful and move forward like that."
Satria shrugged lightly, his expression humble. "It's not easy. But it's the only way to truly heal. And honestly? Meeting people like you — someone who represents the good side of Japan — that helps a lot."
Rimuru's cheeks flushed, her heart softening as she gave a shy smile. "Thanks, dear. I'll do my best to be someone who makes up for those dark times. Even if it's in small ways."
Satria's eyes crinkled fondly as he patted her head, his voice warm. "You're already doing that, my love. Just being you is enough."
Rimuru giggled softly, leaning into his touch. For a moment, the busy world around them faded away, leaving just the two of them — two souls from different worlds, sharing one gentle, quiet moment of understanding.
As they settled at a cozy table in the bustling warung, a steaming bowl of soto ayam was set before each of them — fragrant chicken broth rich with turmeric, shredded chicken, boiled eggs, glass noodles, and a sprinkle of fresh herbs.
The warung was known locally as a legend, and Satria was certain Rimuru would love it.
A shy young waiter approached, bowing slightly. "E-Excuse me… sir, I… can't speak English well… but please, enjoy the food."
Satria smiled warmly, replying in fluent Javanese, "Rapopo, Mas. Maturnuwun!" (It's okay, thank you!)
The waiter's face lit up, and several nearby staff and customers murmured in surprise and admiration. It wasn't every day they saw a flashy young man — especially foreigners — speaking the local tongue so smoothly.
Rimuru watched the exchange with a delighted smile. "You really are full of surprises, dear."
Satria smirked. "Stick with me, and you'll see plenty more."
Rimuru took a took a spoonful of the soto ayam, her eyes widening as soon as the flavors hit her tongue. "This… this is incredible. The broth is so rich and layered, but not heavy, and the chicken's so tender! I didn't expect it to be this good."
Satria leaned back, looking smug. "Told you. Soto ayam is basically a national treasure. Surabaya's version? Best in the country, hands down. Just like me — something you can't just find anywhere."
Rimuru giggled softly, shaking her head. "You and your flashy comparisons…" But she couldn't deny the meal was amazing.
As they were finishing up, Satria casually glanced out the window — only to notice a small crowd forming around the black McLaren parked outside. People were pointing, excitedly chatting, and pulling out their phones to take pictures.
Rimuru leaned closer, whispering, "Um… dear? I think we're attracting attention."
Satria shrugged, utterly unfazed. "Well, it's not every day you see a McLaren parked at a humble warung in Surabaya. Guess I really am Crazy Rich Surabaya, huh?"
Before Rimuru could roll her eyes, a young couple approached their table, both holding their phones nervously.
"Excuse me… is that your car outside? It's amazing! And, uh… can we take a picture with you two? You look like you stepped right out of an anime or a manhwa!"
Rimuru blinked, flustered, unsure whether to laugh or hide under the table. Satria, on the other hand, grinned confidently, standing up and striking a deliberately over-the-top, princely pose.
"Of course! I'm used to this kind of attention. Who wouldn't want a photo with the Golden Emperor?"
Rimuru groaned quietly, muttering, "You really are a troublemaker…"
Suddenly, more murmurs rippled through the crowd.
"Wow! Look at her!" one boy whispered, wide-eyed, pointing at Rimuru.
"She's adorable! Is she a cosplayer?" another girl asked, her eyes sparkling with excitement.
Rimuru tilted her head, confused. "Satria… why are they looking at me like that?"
Satria gave her a knowing smirk. "Well… with your hair and eyes, you do stand out. And that outfit doesn't exactly scream 'local girl.' Plus, you're really cute. They probably think you're some famous cosplayer or idol." He said, gesturing to her outfit, white blouse with long sleeves, trimmed with fluffy white fur at the shoulders and cuffs. The blouse has open-shoulder cuts, giving it a fashionable cold-shoulder look. There's a small black ribbon or tie at the collar for added detail.
Rimuru's cheeks flushed pink. "H-Hey! Don't just say that out loud!"
Before Satria could tease her more, a couple of eager fans rushed up, their phones at the ready.
"Excuse me! Your cosplay is amazing! Can we take a picture with you?"
Rimuru froze, looking wide-eyed at Satria. "What do I do?!" she hissed under her breath.
Satria chuckled softly, leaning in. "Just go with it. If you refuse, they'll think you're a stuck-up celebrity or something."
Rimuru puffed out her cheeks, crossing her arms. "Fine…" She turned to the fans with an awkward smile. "Uh… sure, I guess?"
The fans squealed in delight, eagerly posing beside her, snapping selfies and group shots.
"Thank you so much! Your outfit and makeup are perfect! What character are you supposed to be?"
Rimuru blinked, completely lost. "Uh… myself?"
The fans laughed, assuming she was staying in character. "Haha, wow! You're so in character! That's dedication!"
Soon, more people started gathering, some pulling out their phones, others waiting for a chance to ask for selfies.
Rimuru shot Satria a panicked look, her smile twitching under the pressure. "Dear, help me!"
Satria chuckled, crossing his arms proudly as he watched the scene unfold. "Relax, my Empress. You're a natural star."
Rimuru groaned softly. "I swear… you love watching me suffer, don't you?"
Satria leaned down, grinning mischievously. "Oh, absolutely. But don't worry — you're doing great."
•
As the sun set and the house quieted, Satria and Rimuru f found themselves alone, lounging comfortably on the couch after a long day exploring Surabaya. On the coffee table lay a small spread of snacks they'd bought from a street vendor: crispy fried bananas drizzled with chocolate and cheese, sweet coconut cakes, and spiced nuts.
Satria reached lazily for another piece of fried banana, grinning. "So… those fans today were wild, huh?"
Rimuru let out an exaggerated sigh, cheeks still faintly pink from the memory. "Tell me about it. It felt like I was some celebrity or something."
Satria chuckled, eyes twinkling with amusement. "Well, you are pretty cute. I can't blame them for getting excited."
Rimuru groaned, burying her face in her hands. "Stop! You're making it worse!"
Laughing, Satria reached over and gently tugged her hands away from her face. "Sorry, sorry. I just can't help it — you're adorable when you're flustered."
Shooting him a playful glare, Rimuru grabbed a fried banana and took a bite to distract herself. "You're lucky I'm so easygoing about this. Most people would've been so annoyed." She paused, savoring the surprising mix of flavors. "By the way, these are really good. I never would've thought to combine chocolate and cheese on fried bananas… How do you know all these street foods?"
Satria leaned back, smirking confidently. "What can I say? I'm a local food expert. Stick with me, and I'll show you all the hidden gems."
Rimuru smiled softly, leaning her head on his shoulder. The quiet moments like these — the simple, ordinary ones — filled her with a warmth she couldn't quite put into words.
For a while, they sat in comfortable silence, the only sounds being the occasional chirp of crickets and the soft rustling of night outside. But then, Rimuru s shifted slightly, her expression tightening as unspoken thoughts crept to the surface.
Satria felt the change immediately. Turning, he looked at her with gentle concern. "Hey… what's wrong?"
Rimuru h hesitated, her golden eyes shimmering with uncertainty. "Dear, I… I need to ask you something."
Sitting up, Satria gave her his full attention. "Anything. What's on your mind?"
Taking a shaky breath, Rimuru met his gaze. "Do you… really want to be with me?" Her voice was quiet, almost fragile. "I mean, I'm not even technically human. I'm genderless by nature. I don't know if I can… give you the kind of future a human woman could. I don't know if I can have a family, or…"
Satria's brows drew together in a concerned frown, but before he could speak, Rimuru h hurried on.
"No, listen," she said urgently. "I've been confused for a while. I wasn't born human, you know that. And I keep wondering if… if I can really be what you need, if I can ever be a proper partner. I just… I don't want you to regret choosing me."
As Rimuru stared at him, uncertainty clouding her golden eyes, Satria gently reached out, cupping her cheek with his warm hand.
"Rimuru," he murmured softly, his voice filled with unwavering warmth, "I'm not with you because of what you can give me or what you might be able to do for me. I'm with you because of who you are. You're kind, intelligent, strong… and you make me want to be better every day."
His lips curled into a smirk, the playful gleam returning to his eyes. "Besides, did you forget who you're talking to? I'm the Golden Freaking Emperor."
Rimuru blinked, her heart catching at the weight of his words — but before she could respond, she felt a sudden shift in the air.
Golden energy shimmered and crackled around her, wrapping her in a radiant glow. She gasped softly, instinctively clutching at herself as she sensed something changing deep within her body, her essence.
Then —
[Great Sage: Host, your biology has been altered by the man before you. You are now 100% female and fully capable of producing offspring with him. The change has been confirmed and integrated.]
Rimuru's breath hitched. Eyes wide, she turned toward Satria, her voice barely above a whisper. "Dear… Great Sage just told me something. It says… I'm fully female now. I can have children. With you. Did you… did you do this?"
Satria's smirk widened, his golden eyes gleaming with a teasing spark. "Yup~ After all… I can't let my Empress keep doubting herself, can I?"
Rimuru's heart pounded as she tried to process the revelation. Part of her was overwhelmed with surprise; another part was tangled in conflicting emotions.
"I never expected this," she murmured, a tremble in her voice. "I never thought… I would ever be able to do something like that. But now… I can't help but wonder — do you still want me, knowing that I wasn't even born as human?"
Satria's playful look softened, his gaze tender as he leaned in closer.
"Rimuru," he said quietly, "I want you. All of you. Whether you can have children or not, whether you were born human or slime — none of that matters to me. What matters is us. That we're together. That we grow, support each other, and face whatever comes next — side by side."
Rimuru felt a surge of emotion swell in her chest, her doubts and fears melting away in the glow of his sincerity. She had braced herself for rejection or hesitation — but instead, she found understanding, patience, and love.
With a soft, glowing smile, she snuggled closer to him, resting her head on his chest as she breathed in the comforting warmth of his embrace.
"I don't know what the future holds…" she whispered, "but I'm happy. I'm happy with you, my Emperor."
Satria wrapped his arms gently around her, pressing a tender kiss to the top of her head.
"And I'm happy with you too, Rimuru," he murmured. "Whatever happens, we'll face it together."
As the night settled in around them, the two of them stayed like that — two hearts beating as one, ready to face whatever destiny had in store.
To be continued…