— 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 spaceti 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 tal beside —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 ?
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 consud 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 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 fall.
"We’re going to die!" Aiden scread, flailing in the weightlessness, tears and snot scattering in all directions.
As we neared the bottom—and I felt the weakening effect of the spaceti 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 teor, with dictating the impact.
BOOOOOOOM! KRAAAAAASH!
The collision was catastrophic.
The steel section carrying us slamd into a thick concrete floor.
tal 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 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 tal 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 dical Etra, and the tallic sll of dried blood.
I raised my crimson eyes and began surveying "the third basent."
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 tal operating tables.
Hundreds of them—arranged in precise geotric rows.
Above each table hung chanical 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 sothing that turned the stomach inside out.
It wasn’t human.
It wasn’t a dungeon beast.
It was a chira.
A biological hybrid nightmare.
The torso of a young woman—decapitated—had been stitched to the head of a deford gray wolf with multiple jaws.
Her arms had been replaced with rock-ghoul claws.
Her abdon 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 .
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 Chira Labs," I said coldly, running my gloved fingers across the glass.
"Here, they conduct experints rging 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... retirent..." 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 mont was deeper than anything I felt toward the dead chira 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.
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."
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