The front door of Aunt H's house swung open as Soo-Yeon and I stepped inside.
In the living room, I found a small gathering—Mom, Aunt H, and Mikasa sitting with Soo-Yeon's mother and Jin-Ah. Their expressions brightened when they saw us enter.
"Soo-Yeon!" Jin-Ah exclaimed, jumping up from her seat beside Mikasa and rushing to embrace her sister.
"You're back! We were getting worried."
Soo-Yeon returned the hug with a tenderness I hadn't seen her display before.
"Sorry, I'm late. There was... a lot to deal with."
That was an understatement if I'd ever heard one.
Aunt H approached us, her elegant posture as perfect as always, a gentle smile on her face.
"We heard the news about your apartment building. I'm so sorry."
Soo-Yeon blinked in confusion. "Our apartment?"
Aunt H exchanged glances with her mother, who stepped forward with a somber expression.
"There was a dungeon break while you were gone. The entire eastern district... our building was completely destroyed."
Talk about timing.
I managed to keep my face neutral, though inside I was piecing things together.
A convenient dungeon break that happened to occur while we were dealing with the Architect?
That timing was suspicious at best.
"All our things..." Soo-Yeon murmured, the weight of this new development settling on her shoulders.
"Things can be replaced," her mother said firmly. "We're all safe—that's what matters."
Aunt H placed a gentle hand on Soo-Yeon's shoulder. "You'll stay with us, of course. All of you. Our home is your home for as long as you need."
"Absolutely," Mom chimed in, her usual exuberance slightly muted but no less genuine.
"We have more than enough space, and it'll be wonderful having you here! The girls can bunk together, and we'll set up the guest room for you, Mrs. Park."
"Please, call me Kyung-Hye," Soo-Yeon's mother replied with a grateful smile.
I watched the interaction with mild interest, noting how smoothly everything was falling into place.
Is the universe building a harem for me or something?, Or something else entirely?
"Dante-chan!" Mom's voice cut through my thoughts.
"Don't just stand there like a statue. Help Jin-Ah settle in the things they brought."
"Yes, ma'am," I replied with a mock salute, earning a giggle from Jin-Ah and an eye-roll from Soo-Yeon.
The next hour passed in a flurry of activity—carrying bags, arranging rooms, and listening to the details of the supposed dungeon break.
According to the news reports Mom showed us, it had been sudden and devastating, with minimal casualties, thanks to quick hunter response, but significant property damage.
Perfect cover for relocating Soo-Yeon's family.
Through it all, I observed Soo-Yeon; occasionally, her gaze would find mine across the room.
When everything was finally arranged and the initial excitement had settled, I excused myself.
I needed time to think, I had a lot to think after all.
"I'll be in my room if anyone needs me," I announced, already heading for the stairs.
"Don't you want dinner?" Mom called after me.
"I'll grab something later," I replied over my shoulder.
"Got some things to sort out first."
My room in Aunt H's house wasn't particularly large, but it was comfortable—a queen-sized bed, a desk by the window, and enough space to move around.
I closed the door behind me, relishing the sudden quiet.
Lying back on my bed, I stared at the ceiling, letting my mind wander through the day's events.
The Architect's defeat, the Universal Key, and the barriers between worlds.
There is so much information, so many variables to consider.
But underneath all that, a more fundamental question nagged at me:
Why was I holding back?
Since arriving in this world, I'd been using my inherited powers almost casually, treating them like amusing toys rather than the universe-altering forces they truly were.
I'd been selective, using only what was necessary for the moment, never pushing to my full potential.
Take Gilgamesh's abilities, for instance.
While I'd been flaunting the Chains of Heaven and EA, the true essence of his power was still integrating with my own.
His divinity, his strength...he was not just the King of Heroes—he was a God, a true God in his verse, this was the difference between him and the original version.
And right now, that divinity was slowly inhabiting my own body.
The process couldn't be rushed.
It was like a fine wine maturing or a sword being tempered—it required time.
At the current rate, it might take a full year before I fully embody his divine strength, before his godly essence fully merged with my human form.
But even now, I had access to his most formidable tool—the Gate of Babylon.
And unlike the version I remembered from fiction, this Gate contained literally everything that existed in the universe.
Not just human-made constructs but all manner of artifacts, weapons, and treasures from across time and space.
I raised my hand, watching golden ripples form in the air above me as I opened a small portal to the infinite treasury.
A single golden goblet emerged, ornate and gleaming, filled with wine that had aged for millennia.
I grasped it, taking a sip of the impossibly perfect vintage.
This was just a trinket, a mere bauble compared to what the Gate truly contained.
I could, if I wanted to, simply use Sha Naqba Imuru—The Omniscient Omnipotent Star—to instantly locate the Universal Key.
With Gilgamesh's divine clairvoyance, finding one artifact, even one hidden by the Absolute Being, would be trivial.
Past, present, future—nothing was hidden from its gaze. A cosmic GPS that would lead me directly to anything I sought.
Or I could take an even more direct approach.
The sword of rupture, EA, could simply shatter the Universal Barrier itself.
No Key needed.
EA was, after all, the ultimate anti-world weapon, a divine construct that predated the concept of worlds themselves. A barrier, no matter how cosmic, would be nothing before its power.
So why don't I?
The answer made me chuckle as I took another sip of ancient wine.
I'm deliberately holding back, limiting myself to enjoy the challenge while it lasts.
What fun would there be in immediately solving every problem?
In being so overwhelmingly powerful that nothing presents even the slightest obstacle?
Where's the story in that?
My previous life had taught me the value of the journey, not just the destination.
The satisfaction of earning a victory, not just claiming it by default. And this journey, with all its variables and unexpected twists, is far too interesting to rush through.
Besides, until my integration with Gilgamesh's divinity is complete, I can still experience something resembling a challenge.
I can still pretend there are stakes, that the outcome isn't predetermined by my mere presence.
It's selfish, perhaps.
Irresponsible, even.
People could die while I play my games, while I savor the experience, rather than ending threats immediately.
But isn't that the privilege of power?
To choose when and how to exercise?
Gods have always been capricious that way. And with each passing day, I move closer to that threshold—not quite human anymore, not yet divine, but somewhere in the liminal space between.
And it wasn't just Gilgamesh's power that I was holding back.
With my newly acquired creation powers from the Architect, there was virtually nothing beyond my reach.
Yet here I was, playing hunter in a world of monsters, pretending that the search for the Universal Key was anything more than a diversion.
I banished the golden goblet back to the Gate, watching it dissolve into golden particles.
"Maybe I should just enjoy this world while I can," I murmured to the empty room.
"Before I become so powerful that nothing matters anymore."
Because that was the true curse of unlimited power, wasn't it?
Boredom.
When nothing can challenge you, nothing can excite you.
When every outcome is predetermined by your mere existence, what's the point of existing at all?
I'd seen it in the memories I'd inherited—Gojo's loneliness at the peak, Gilgamesh's ennui as he watched civilizations rise and fall, Raizel's eternal solitude as an existence beyond comprehension.
Power had isolated them.
Ultimate power ultimately separates you from everything.
For now, at least, I could still play the game.
I could still pretend that the Monarchs and Rulers were worthy adversaries rather than insects awaiting the swatter.
I could still enjoy the company of Mom, Mikasa, and yes, even Soo-Yeon, before I transcended too far beyond them.
My contemplation was interrupted by the sound of my door opening.
I turned my head to see Mom standing in the doorway, wrapped in nothing but a bathrobe, her cheeks flushed pink, her long purple hair damp from a recent shower.
A slow smirk spread across my face as I pushed aside thoughts of cosmic barriers and universal keys.
The future could wait.
Right now, I have a different kind of fun in mind.