Sylvain returned to the organisation after his previous successful deal to join the pit and pendulum. The dimly lit clock tower church stood as a beacon of rebellion in the heart of a crumbling district. Beneath its looming shadow, Sylvain Flamesworth took his first step into a world that promised to break him free from the chains of his bloodline—or bind him tighter than ever.Inside the hollowed structure, the air hung heavy with the scent of candle wax and dust, the faint ticking of the ancient clock above blending with murmured conversations. He felt their gazes before he saw them. Two figures emerged from the darkness, their crimson masks catching the faint glow of the candlelight. One resembled a snarling wolf, the other an imposing owl. Their eyes glowing with such bright red as if its thirsty for blood."You'd better be worth the trouble," the woman in the wolf mask said, her voice sharp and unyielding.The man with the owl mask chuckled darkly. "An elite Flamesworth kid joining the Pit and Pendulum. What's the world coming to?""Enough," came a calm yet commanding voice. Prometheus emerged from the shadows, his phoenix mask radiating authority. Beside him, Raven—her crimson plague mask tilted playfully—watched the scene with amused eyes."Sylvain ," Prometheus began, his voice laced with warmth and intrigue. "Welcome again, to the Pit and Pendulum. You've met Annie and Marcus before, two of our finest fighters who held their blades toward you last time." He gestured toward the two masked figures who begrudgingly lowered their gaze. "And soon, you'll meet Lucien, the brilliant mind behind our tools and masks."Sylvain nodded stiffly, scanning the group. Each member radiated an intensity born of struggle, their crimson masks unifying them under a shared purpose. Yet, there was something different about the leading figures. Their masks, though crimson like the others, were uniquely shaped—symbols of their roles within the organization. The organisation masks were highly mechanical ,these masks possessed telescopic functions allowing them to see far off , as well as communication systems built with nano radio-wave technology , truly a work of a genius.Prometheus leaned closer, his voice lowering. "You should visit Lucien and ask him to craft a mask for you. He'll probably be busy, but once you get past his... eccentricities, you'll find he's a genius."Sylvain's gaze flickered with uncertainty, but he nodded. "Where can I find him?"Prometheus gestured toward a hidden staircase leading underground. "The lab. Just follow the sound of tinkering."The lab beneath the church was a chaotic masterpiece. Tables cluttered with half-finished contraptions and scraps of metal lined the room, while the air reeked of oil and molten steel. In the center, a slender man hunched over a rifle, muttering to himself as sparks flew from his tools."I hope I'm not interrupting," Sylvain said cautiously.Without looking up, Lucien waved dismissively. "Not now, Raven. I'm recalibrating the barrel..." He trailed off, finally turning to face Sylvain. The inventor's sharp features softened with curiosity. "Ah, you're the one Prometheus mentioned. Sylvain, right?"Sylvain nodded, taking in the man's wiry frame and oil-streaked goggles. "I'm told you're the one to see about a mask."Lucien grinned. "So, what's the plan? What mask are we thinking?"Sylvain hesitated. "Isn't it... excessive? I just joined. Shouldn't I blend in with the others?"Lucien waved a hand dismissively. "Nonsense. You've earned it just by being here. Turning against your house takes guts, and everyone knows you're no ordinary recruit. Consider it a mark of respect."Sylvain mulled it over, his thoughts drifting to River. Her absence made him miss her."A feline," he said finally. "Can you make a feline mask?"Lucien blinked, then laughed. "A feline? That's... different. But sure, why not? I'll make you the finest feline mask this group has ever seen."Sylvain nodded, grateful and full of respect toward the wonder inventor.In Prometheus's quarters, Sylvain laid out the intel he had carefully curated—enough to prove his worth without revealing everything. He spoke of his manipulations, the rift he had sown between the Flamesworth and Welter houses, and the leverage he held over the latter. Prometheus listened intently, a smile tugging at his lips."I'm so glad to have such a monster on our side," he said with a chuckle. "It would have been a pain if you were one of them."Sylvain's jaw tightened. "I'm not a monster. It was necessary."Prometheus placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Do you know why I chose to invite you? It's because I see hope in you, Sylvain. Hope can move mountains, ignite revolutions. It's the spark that defines us."Sylvain's expression faltered. Hope. The word felt hollow, yet something in Prometheus's voice stirred a long-buried yearning within him.The ceremony came that evening, one where every member had undergone... The chrono drug—the crimson liquid swirling in a glass syringe—was placed in Sylvain's hands. He hesitated, the weight of the moment pressing down on him. "Anything to reach what I envision," he muttered, plunging the needle into his vein.The world blurred. Time unravelled. He was falling, spiraling through lifetimes he had lived and forgotten. Scenes of rejection, despair, and isolation flashed before him. And then, a memory struck like lightning.A repressed memory that he couldn't remember willingly , he erased it to protect himself from it , from reliving that traumatic experience. He was four years old, standing before a guillotine. Sylvain's small body trembled in his father's iron grip, his legs kicking helplessly as Faust held him up, forcing him to watch the horrific scene unfold. Below them, his mother crumpled to the ground, her hands outstretched as she screamed for Isabelle, crying out for her daughter to be spared."Help her! Please, someone!" his mother's voice cracked, drowned out by the thunderous noise of the crowd.Sylvain fought to look away, but his father's grip tightened, making it impossible to escape the horror. Tears streamed down his face as he watched his sister, bound and helpless, standing before the guillotine. The weight of the moment crushed him, and though his heart screamed for mercy, he could do nothing.Then, with a sickening finality, the blade fell. Sylvain's throat burned as he screamed her name with all the strength he could muster. "Isabelle!!"For a fleeting moment, Isabelle's eyes found his, her lips curving upward in a faint, almost serene smile. In the chaos of the crowd, Sylvain couldn't hear her voice, but the words reverberated through him like a whisper from the depths of his soul: "Don't lose hope."Those words, simple yet powerful, pierced through the agony and despair, lingering in his heart even as the echoes of his scream faded.Faust walked briskly, his wife trailing behind him, her tears streaming down her face as she sobbed, her voice shaking with anguish. "Why would you show our son such a gruesome scene?" she cried, her words coming out in desperate gasps. "And his own elder sister..."Faust's cold expression didn't waver as he continued forward. "It had to be done," he replied flatly, his voice devoid of emotion. "Isabelle was caught with a terrorist group, and she paid the price for treason."His wife's eyes widened in shock, but Faust's gaze remained fixed ahead. "Besides," he continued, his voice growing colder still, "I needed to show Sylvain the consequences of one's actions. Make him more tolerable to death. The Flamesworth house has no need for a wimp."She faltered, choking on her words. "You're... you're breaking him."Faust turned to her, his eyes hard as steel. "It's all part of a grand plan. To create the greatest leader our bloodline has ever seen." His voice was icy, unwavering, as though he spoke of something far removed from the pain they were both enduring.Sylvain screamed, his soul splintering under the weight of the memory.While he was drowning in his trip, Prometheus stood over Sylvain, watching intently as the young man's body remained unnervingly still. Minutes passed, each one stretching longer than the last, but Sylvain didn't stir. Prometheus's brow furrowed in increasing concern."That's unnatural," he muttered, his voice tight with growing anxiety. "He should be awake by now." He turned to Raven, his tone sharp. "Raven, check him out."Raven knelt beside Sylvain and gently opened his eyes. What she found made her freeze. The soft, orange glow that had once been a mere flicker in his pupils was now a steady, pulsating light, far too intense for someone who hadn't been exposed to the side effects of the chrono drug.She removed his lenses , now fully realising the depth of what they hadn't accounted for. "This... this shouldn't be happening,his eyes are actually bright orange? he was hiding them with these brown lenses this whole time..." she whispered, her eyes flicking nervously toward Prometheus.Prometheus's face went pale as he took in the sight. "Get a doctor now!" he commanded, his voice taut with fear.Annie, who had been observing from the doorway, stepped forward with a sharp edge to her tone. "That explains why he acted strange in this time loop. He stumbled over the serum... he knows."Prometheus snapped, frustration and panic mixing in his voice. "That's not what's important now. The serum and chrono drug aren't made to mix with each other. It's either a constant time psychosis or death. We need to save him before it's too late!"Marcus, leaning casually against the wall, scoffed. "Why do you care so much, Prometheus? He's an elite. You know..."Prometheus turned on him, fury flaring in his eyes. "I don't care! HE IS ONE OF US," he yelled, his voice shaking with emotion. "And I won't give up on him. He decided to stand up against his family and house, do you know how hard it is for an elite kid to oppose his own bloodline?"Marcus didn't answer, but the tension in the room was thick. Prometheus's breath came in shallow gasps as he stared at Sylvain, his mind racing. He couldn't let him slip away—not like this.Finally, Sylvain awoke to Prometheus's frantic voice. "Thank God, you're still with us. Are you okay?"Sylvain nodded weakly, his vision clearing. Raven leaned closer, inspecting his eyes. "One orange, one like ours," she murmured. "Looks like the drug made an exception for him...""Special, aren't we?" Annie quipped sardonically.Prometheus's voice cut through the haze. "What did you see, Sylvain?"Sylvain's gaze darkened. "The truth. My rage... it's not just about them. It's personal. It always has been...a revelation, it all makes sense now , my determination so far, was meant for this..." Prometheus confused and frowned , searching Sylvain's eyes.He notices something deep in his eyes , not the hope he desired , but something much worse , an explicable surge of rage within him...Later as Sylvain stepped out of the church, Marcus lingered in the doorway, the owl mask dangling loosely from his fingers. "You think Prometheus is a fool, don't you? But he's not. He's just... idealistic. That's why we follow him. But you?" Marcus' voice dropped, a cold edge creeping in. "You reek of despair. I've seen it before, in the slums. And I'm not fond of it. Don't even think about crossing that line."Sylvain didn't respond. His gaze was fixed downward, his footsteps heavy and slow, each one carrying the weight of a past that refused to let go and a future he couldn't bear to face. The night swallowed him whole, leaving Marcus with nothing but the fading echo of a broken soul.