I Possess the SSS Skill: Future Sight-Chapter 74: Saint Hilarius Hospital (6)

— Valicera’s POV —

I have always considered falling a personal insult.

I am the mistress of gravity. I decide what rises and what falls, what is crushed and what floats.

But in the shaft of that cursed elevator—when the cables snapped and the spacetime stabilizers activated, paralyzing my ability to fold space—I was forced to taste helplessness for a few brief seconds.

The massive red laser blades that burst from the shaft walls split the giant steel elevator cabin into three parts as easily as slicing a fragile cake.

I saw the flash of the blade cutting through the metal beside me—and I saw Kyle pull that crying sniper, "Eva," with him into the section that slid to the right.

As for Damian and Sia—they fell in the left section, swallowed by darkness.

And me?

I remained in the central section, which dropped vertically—carrying Aiden with it, screaming like a pig being led to slaughter.

The air howled around us. Absolute darkness consumed us.

But I was not afraid.

The S-rank "Elixir of Dawn’s Tears" that I had swallowed in the train carriage was still pulsing through my veins like a river of liquid light.

Fatigue? Gone.

Injuries? Healed at the DNA level.

And most importantly...

The ancient cosmic entity—the dark parasite that resided in my skull, which had always tried to devour me and override my will—was now bound by chains of absolute life energy, groaning in the deepest corner of my consciousness, imprisoned and silenced.

I was at the peak of my power.

I was a war goddess descending into darkness—ready to punish those who dared make me fall.

"We’re going to die!" Aiden screamed, flailing in the weightlessness, tears and snot scattering in all directions.

As we neared the bottom—and I felt the weakening effect of the spacetime stabilizers in the shaft—

I injected gravity Etra into my feet.

I didn’t slow the fall of the cabin.

Instead, I directed all reverse gravitational force into my own body—anchoring my feet to the falling floor—then increased my mass density, forcing our section to descend like a controlled meteor, with me dictating the impact.

BOOOOOOOM! KRAAAAAASH!

The collision was catastrophic.

The steel section carrying us slammed into a thick concrete floor.

Metal twisted, tore, folded inward with a deafening roar.

The force of impact would have turned any normal human into paste.

But I... stood there.

A spherical barrier of gravity enveloped me in the final instant.

Not a single strand of my silver hair was disturbed.

The white coat we had stolen remained pristine—untouched by dust.

As for Aiden...

He collided with my gravity barrier instead of the steel, then collapsed onto the wrecked floor, gasping, coughing blood from his nose, his ribs aching from severe bruising—but alive.

The darkness receded.

The shattered cabin doors fell forward with a horrific screech, revealing the floor that had swallowed us.

I stepped out slowly. The heel of my black boot crushed a warped metal panel beneath it.

The air here... wasn’t air.

It was a nauseating chemical mixture.

The sharp scent of formaldehyde—used to preserve corpses—assaulted the sinuses like a slap, mixed with the stench of rotting flesh, sterile medical Etra, and the metallic smell of dried blood.

I raised my crimson eyes and began surveying "the third basement."

B3.

It wasn’t completely dark.

The lighting was fluorescent white—bright, harsh, utterly devoid of warmth, like an operating room.

The space was enormous, stretching like aircraft hangars—but instead of machines, it was filled with cold metal operating tables.

Hundreds of them—arranged in precise geometric rows.

Above each table hung mechanical arms fitted with laser scalpels, rotating bone saws, and massive syringes filled with glowing green and black fluids.

The walls were lined entirely with massive cylindrical glass tanks.

I walked slowly toward the nearest one.

Inside the green preservative fluid... floated something that turned the stomach inside out.

It wasn’t human.

It wasn’t a dungeon beast.

It was a chimera.

A biological hybrid nightmare.

The torso of a young woman—decapitated—had been stitched to the head of a deformed gray wolf with multiple jaws.

Her arms had been replaced with rock-ghoul claws.

Her abdomen was cut open and filled with Etralium wires, pulsing with energy to keep the dead body... alive.

"My God... where are we..."

I heard Aiden’s trembling voice behind me.

He crawled out of the wreckage, his face pale as paper, his round glasses cracked.

He stood with great difficulty—then looked at the glass tanks... then at the blood-stained operating tables, with organs left carelessly behind.

"The Chimera Labs," I said coldly, running my gloved fingers across the glass.

"Here, they conduct experiments merging human DNA with dungeon-beast Etra. They cut patients apart while alive—and fuse them with monster limbs to create biological weapons that feel no pain."

Aiden clamped a hand over his mouth, staggered to a nearby corner—and vomited violently, emptying his stomach onto the sterile white floor.

"We... we’re at the bottom of hell... Valicera... we’re going to die here... I didn’t want this... I just wanted a stable job... a salary... retirement..." he sobbed like a lost child, trembling hysterically, drool hanging from his mouth.

I looked at him.

The disgust I felt toward him in that moment was deeper than anything I felt toward the dead chimera in the glass.

"Get on your feet, you worthless insect," I said in a calm voice—yet heavy enough to freeze him in place.

"Weakness here doesn’t invite sympathy. Weakness here invites a surgeon’s scalpel. If you want to die crying, I’ll tear you apart myself and save them the trouble of dissecting you."

Aiden wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his torn shirt, nodding in terror. 𝕗𝚛𝚎𝚎𝐰𝗲𝗯𝗻𝚘𝚟𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝕞

He drew his submachine pistols—his hands trembling so badly he nearly dropped them.

"M-my lady... do you think Eva... Damian... Sia... are alive?" he asked in a choked voice.

"Who cares?" I turned my back on him and began walking down the aisle between the blood-stained operating tables.

"If they deserve to live, they’ll make it out. If they’re weak, this slaughterhouse will filter them out. All that matters now is descending floor by floor—until I stand before Saint Hilarius... and crush his skull."