Hall of Fraction 76

In the darkened hall, figures sat silently. Their faces were obscured by shadows, identities hidden in the gloom. Whispers stirred the air.

"What's going on?""Why was this emergency meeting called?""Is it because of… that?"

"No... it's them—the Tyrants," someone muttered. "They said there's a problem with the mission."

"Hah! They can't handle a single task properly," another voice hissed.

"They're just servants, bestowed upon us by our mighty Creator."

Silence.

The room fell quiet. No one knew each other by face or name—only by number. But when the voice spoke, they recognized it instantly.

It was the faction leader—Holder 76.

Then, from the shadows, they emerged. Unknown creatures, vaguely human in form but massive in build, with dark skin. These were the Tyrants, beings who obeyed only the commands of the Holders.

The Tyrant of Holder 76 stepped forward.

"The timeline has been... rewound."

Shock swept the room.

"What?""What is he talking about?""We succeeded in uniting the Holders but... someone rewound time?""How is that even possible?"

"If we unite again, will it just be reversed once more?"

A heavy silence followed.

"No," the Tyrant said. "Whoever did it... is likely dead. Rewinding time to that extent isn't something done by free will."

"Not unless they're a... creator."

"So he's dead, then?"

"What do we do now? Try again?"

"What choice do we have?" someone asked.

"All the information is lost. We didn't share it with the Tyrants, so they won't be much help. And we've all forgotten everything."

Then Holder 76 spoke again.

"If we did it once, we can do it again."

"Yes.""He's right.""That's how the meeting ended."

Later...

When the Holders were gone, the Tyrants of Fraction 76 gathered in secret.

"Hey, 76," one said, "we know so much. Should we help them?"

"Why should we?" another growled. "They treat us like slaves."

"Yes..."

"Why are you smiling?" one of them asked.

"You don't know, do you?" came the reply. "The one who rewound time... he's not just anyone."

"What are you saying?"

"He's the Nameless Tyrant. The one without a Holder. Missing for millennia."

The room grew still.

"He rebelled against the Creator. Defeated and sealed away."

"Are you saying he found a Holder?"

"Possibly."

"But could anyone even handle him? The Nameless Tyrant?"

"Who could it be? An ancient dragon? Elf? Dwarf? Lizardman?"

"...A human?"

"If true... this might be our chance to break free from slavery."

"I doubt he's still alive... or is he?"

Elsewhere…

A guard escorted , winter into the principal's office.

Before them stood a powerful mage—the master of the White Magic Tower.Also... the grandfather of Liliya.

Principal Roksene de Henilion.