I Possess the SSS Skill: Future Sight

A month passed.

Thirty days since the earth split open in the heart of Elysium to swallow "Saint Ilarion Hospital," turning it into a volcanic crater emitting the stench of burned flesh and toxic chemicals.

The official press described what happened as a "disaster caused by a gas leak in the old sewage networks that led to a structural collapse."

But in the underworld, and in the corridors of magical intelligence, the truth was whispered with fear that made hearts tremble.

Regional Kings were dead, a fake Saint was beheaded, and thousands of tons of rubble were cleared to reveal human slaughterhouses beyond belief.

Despite this massive destruction, and despite all the investigations, there was one person who felt that a personal, deep, and unforgivable insult had been directed straight at him.

At the highest peak in the city of Elysium, where the central tower pierced the clouds, specifically in the "Grand Office."

The office where decisions are made that erase guilds and annihilate entire districts.

Although the office was equipped with crystal chandeliers capable of lighting an entire stadium, and eternal Eitra lighting systems that never went out... the room was submerged in a pitch-black darkness, suffocating and terrifying. 𝗳𝚛𝚎𝚎𝘄𝕖𝕓𝕟𝕠𝚟𝚎𝕝.𝗰𝕠𝐦

The only source of light was a single lonely candle, placed in the middle of a massive ebony wooden table.

The candle burned slowly, its weak flame dancing, casting long, distorted shadows across the velvet walls.

The darkness was not a technical failure. It was a decision.

When the ruler of Elysium becomes angry, he does not break things; instead, he turns off the lights, sits in the darkness, and contemplates the "blind spot" that dared to exist in his kingdom.

In this vast office, there were only three people.

Three entities whose mere presence together in one room carried a weight that could break gravity itself.

The first was seated on a luxurious black leather chair, behind the table, at the center of the candle’s halo of light.

The Exalted, "Kaiser Dravion."

The absolute ruler.

He wore his usual black formal suit, strands of his golden hair falling calmly over his forehead, his features carved from cold marble that knew no emotion.

He held a delicate Chinese porcelain cup, sipping black tea with deadly calm.

A calm that precedes storms capable of uprooting continents.

Each sip made a faint sound that echoed in the dark room like a countdown to a bomb.

The second person was not sitting.

He stood behind Kaiser, in the deepest point of darkness, as if he were part of the fabric of the gloom itself.

His deputy and right hand, "Damiron Falzark."

The merciless swordsman.

He wore his long dark coat that swallowed any light approaching him.

He did not move, nor did he breathe audibly. The only thing proving he was alive and not a statue of death were his eyes.

Behind his dark metallic mask, his eyes glowed with a crimson red shine, watching every corner of the room like two embers burning at the bottom of a deep well, ready to vaporize the blood of anyone who erred in his master’s presence.

The third person... sat on a plush sofa opposite Kaiser’s desk, legs crossed with terrifying aristocratic elegance.

"Kyra Valdaris."

One of the Seven Exalted.

Calling her beautiful would be an insult to her creation.

Kyra possessed a transcendent beauty beyond the limits of human biology, a beauty that drove those who stared too long into madness or voluntary blindness.

Her skin was white like untouched snow, glowing with a faint pearlescent light.

Her hair was black like cosmic ink, cascading like a waterfall of night over her shoulders.

Her eyes were deep violet, carrying a charm that melted iron wills and forced kings to kneel.

She wore a dark velvet dress that highlighted her exalted figure, adorned with jewelry radiating ancient magical energy.

Yet, despite this absolute beauty... the smile drawn on her crimson lips was completely empty.

A plastic smile, cold, holding not a single trace of happiness or warmth.

The smile of a predator watching its prey bleed.

She too held a cup of tea, between her slender ring-covered fingers.

A heavy silence filled the office for a full ten minutes.

Nothing but the sound of tea being sipped and the trembling candle flame.

Finally, Kaiser Dravion placed his cup on the porcelain saucer.

Clink.

The sound was simple, yet it caused the Eitra pressure in the room to suddenly double, nearly cracking the bulletproof glass of the windows.

"How..."

Kaiser spoke, his voice calm, yet carrying a roughness that shook souls.

"How did that damned Ilarion manage to hide the hospital from our eyes? How did a man of S+ rank, merely a saint who treats the rabble, hide something the size of a city underground... from me?"

This was the dilemma burning Kaiser’s mind.

The hospital was not just a small basement; six massive floors, blood farms, laboratories, beasts from the Regional Kings.

All of this under his nose, in his city, and he did not sense a single pulse of Eitra for years!

Kyra Valdaris tilted her head slightly, her cold smile unchanged.

"You underestimate S+ rank too much, Kaiser," she said in her silky voice, like angelic music played at a funeral.

"Ilarion was not just a healer. He possessed Sacred Light Eitra, an energy capable of blinding and masking any sensor if used intelligently."

Kaiser raised his deadly gray eyes toward her.

The candlelight reflected in them like two blades.

"I am not underestimating that cunning bastard. I know he was intelligent."

Kaiser straightened in his seat, placing his interlocked hands on the table.

"But I am aware of everything in the city of Elysium. I breathe through its streets. I sense the pulse of its guilds. For something to be hidden from me like this... impossible. No light or darkness spell, no matter how powerful, can completely isolate the energy of three Regional King beasts from my perceptual senses."

Kaiser was right. As the absolute ruler, his perceptual network surpassed spells.

Hiding a slaughterhouse of this scale did not require mere isolation magic; it required tearing the fabric of reality itself to isolate it in a nearly parallel dimension.