Sylvain stood at the edge of the training hall, watching the other elite trainees stumble through their drills. The air was thick with the scent of sweat and old wood. His gaze flicked from one instructor to the next, observing every movement, every imperfection. This was his world now—one where he would need to rise above it all if he ever wanted to tear it down from within.the Houses , his family, the elites. They all saw him as just another failure, just another useless heir who couldn't keep up with their high standards. He had to change their perspective if he wanted to use his house's power against them . They didn't know who he had become over the countless loops, how his mind had sharpened like a blade, how his body had been honed through every failure, every death, and every fight.The sound of the instructor's voice broke his thoughts."Flamesworth! Get in line!"Sylvain nodded, stepping forward, his gaze cold, his steps deliberate. He was no longer the disinterested boy who barely managed to scrape through the tests. Now, he was a machine—a weapon.The instructor Adolf Welter, a veteran member of house Welter and Maria Welter's uncle, eyed Sylvain as he stepped into the sparring ring. The other trainees chuckled nervously, clearly not expecting much from him. Sylvain's slight frame made him an easy target in their eyes."You will have to fight Jack for this one, young man" the instructor said"This will be fast , cousin" Jack Flamesworth growled, cracking his knuckles.Sylvain's gaze wandered, a flicker of disappointment in his eyes,"Jack... in every timeline, why is it you the childish douche...?""I will put you in your place, you are truly a shame for our house"Jack added"Can your fists move as fast as your mouth,Jack" Sylvain lips faintly curled into a smirkThe bell rang, and Jack charged at him with the speed of a freight train. Sylvain's body moved with a precision he hadn't known in his earlier life. His footwork was fluid, his movements calculated. The massive Jack swung a punch, and Sylvain ducked, letting the blow pass by him with inches to spare. His own fist lashed out, striking Jack's rib cage in the exact spot where his defenses were weakest. The sound of cracking bones echoed in the room.The instructor stumbling back in surprise. "How surprising, little flame.""Who's next," Sylvain murmured, his voice cold and detached, but his eyes burning with a purpose the others couldn't grasp.He wasn't just fighting for survival. He was fighting for control.Later, in the grand hall, the academic test began. The walls were lined with the House's scholars, their eyes trained on the group of trainees gathered at their desks. Sylvain could feel their gazes on him, testing him, searching for any weakness."Begin," one of the professors barked.Sylvain's pen hovered over the paper for a moment. This was familiar territory—he'd been through these tests a thousand times in a thousand lives. But now, he wasn't just answering questions; he was using this test to show them all that he wasn't the failure they thought him to be. He was smarter, sharper, and more dangerous than any of them could imagine.He began writing at a steady pace, solving the problems with ease. His mind raced through complex equations, historical events, political strategies, and the intricacies of the House's history. Every piece of knowledge he had accumulated through his previous loops flowed into him like an unstoppable torrent. He was untouchable in this realm.One of the professors leaned over to whisper to another, clearly impressed. "He's surpassing even some of the older trainees..."Sylvain didn't look up. He already knew what they were saying. He didn't need their approval. But he would take it. And then he would use it.Afterwards ,the gun range was a sterile, quiet place, the only sound the metallic click of ammunition being loaded. Sylvain gripped the sleek, precision-made gun with practiced hands,the guns are so much different than how they were in the first loop,they work on energy cells and the time of their reload is far more better,he knew how much things changed because of the accumulated knowledge and science the higher ups used, the whole world feels out of place with all the technological discoveries that they would throw unnaturally in the world,therefore this period of time is named the acceleration age due to how fast science was developing but the public didn't know that it was all just relics from the loops .In anyways, Sylvain had always been good with a firearm, but now—now it was different. He could see every detail, every shift in the environment. His hands steadied as he took his place, the target a mere blur to him as his eyes focused on the minute shifts in the air, the way the light bent around the target."Ready?" the instructor asked, his voice tight with anticipation. Sylvain nodded ,he exhaled slowly, aligning the target in his sights, taking in the wind, the weight of the gun, the angle of his shot. His finger squeezed the trigger. The gunshot echoed in the room. Bullseye.The instructor blinked in disbelief, then turned to his colleagues. "He's getting better at everything."Sylvain's eyes remained focused on the target, his expression unchanged. "I still have to keep in mind that the other higher-ups have loop memories too. I can't afford to show too much improvement too quickly or I'll raise suspicion,"after the bullseye shot, Sylvain deliberately miss a few shots in front of the instructor , he had to show normal improvement."Maybe there is still room for some precise aiming though..."The instructor sighedHe had to play it smart. The House's game was delicate, and any sign of ambition too early could send everything crashing down. But the weight of his growing hatred for Faust—and the determination to see it all burn—gnawed at himAs he returned to his quarters that evening,he fed River and scratched her favourite part."It is really tiring to interact with those people, I appreciate your existence,River..."River meows back at him, showing her affection for Sylvain.The weight of the day's tests hung over him like a stormcloud, but he felt the spark of something inside him—a fire growing stronger.The map he'd taken from Lucas rested on his desk, its secrets unfolding in his mind. His place within the House was shifting. He had to play the game, rise to power from within. But that was just the beginning. He needed to start the rebellion—both inside and out.Sylvain stared out the window at the city sprawled beneath him, the buildings towering like giants over the broken streets of Steelgate. "They've built their oligarchy empire on the suffering of others. They think they're invincible, untouchable. But I'm about to change all of that. I hate Faust... I hate the look in his eyes, his presence,his voice-I HATE HIM...and soon I will make it rain on him , a giant shower of the very thing he wishes to escape,death."The words were spoken in pure rage to himself, they carried the weight of a thousand years of pain and determination. The world would burn, but Sylvain Flamesworth would be the one to light the match.