The academy's surveillance system reset at midnight.
Jinhyeok knew this because his wrist device always vibrated at the same second—00:00 sharp—when the system synchronized student data across all departments.
Tonight, it vibrated twice.
That had never happened before.
He sat up in bed immediately, eyes sharp in the darkness. The faint blue glow from the device reflected off the wall as lines of data scrolled past faster than usual.
System Sync Complete.
Anomaly Flags: 2
Review Pending.
Anomaly.
His jaw tightened.
They had noticed.
He swung his legs off the bed and stood, the cool floor grounding him. His scent was under control—for now—but his instincts screamed that this was only the beginning.
Across the hall, someone laughed.
Life continued as if nothing was wrong.
That was always the most dangerous part.
The next morning, the academy buzzed with restrained excitement.
Students whispered as they walked, clusters forming and breaking apart like ripples in water. Jinhyeok picked up fragments as he passed.
"…medical wing locked down last night—"
"…heard someone collapsed in Alpha Class—"
"…system glitch, maybe—"
He didn't slow.
Ren caught up with him near the main staircase, expression unusually serious.
"You hear the rumors?" Ren asked quietly.
"No."
"That's a lie."
Jinhyeok stopped at the foot of the stairs. "What do you want?"
Ren lowered his voice. "Security ran a sweep overnight. They don't do that unless something trips the core sensors."
Jinhyeok's fingers curled. "And?"
"And," Ren continued, eyes sharp, "your name came up."
Silence stretched.
"You're imagining things," Jinhyeok said.
Ren scoffed softly. "I wish I was."
Before Jinhyeok could respond, a message pinged across every student's device.
Mandatory Assembly — All Dynamics
Location: Central Hall
Immediate Attendance Required
Jinhyeok exhaled slowly.
So this is how it starts.
The Central Hall was massive—arched ceilings, reinforced glass walls, and a raised platform where faculty and system administrators stood in dark uniforms. Students filled the space quickly, the air thick with layered scents and nervous energy.
Jinhyeok stood among the Alphas, posture straight, expression calm.
Akira stood across the hall.
Their eyes met briefly.
Akira looked… unsettled.
He looked away first.
The head administrator stepped forward. "Last night," she began, "the academy system detected an irregular bond fluctuation."
The room erupted into whispers.
"Impossible," someone muttered.
"Bonds are registered at birth—"
"Unless it's illegal—"
"Silence," the administrator said sharply.
Jinhyeok's device vibrated once.
Heart rate elevated.
"Such fluctuations," the administrator continued, "pose a threat to social order and student safety."
Akira's fingers clenched at his side.
Jinhyeok didn't look at him again.
"As a precaution," she said, "we will be conducting dynamic reassessments."
The word slammed into Jinhyeok's chest.
Reassessments meant blood tests.
Scent scans.
Truth.
Akira sucked in a sharp breath.
Jinhyeok felt it like a knife.
The testing wing was worse than the medical wing.
Sterile, silent, and watched.
Students were processed in groups. Alphas first. Betas next. Omegas last.
Jinhyeok stood at the front of the Alpha line.
Perfect.
Predictable.
"Seo Jinhyeok Carter," a technician called.
He stepped forward.
The scanner hovered near his throat, then wrists, then chest. Numbers flickered rapidly across the screen.
Too rapidly.
The technician frowned. "Hold still."
"I am," Jinhyeok replied evenly.
The machine beeped.
Once.
Twice.
Then—
ERROR: DYNAMIC CONFLICT DETECTED
The room froze.
"That's impossible," the technician said quickly, tapping the screen. "Must be interference."
"Run it again," another voice said from behind.
A woman stepped forward—older, sharp-eyed, her badge marked SYSTEM OVERSIGHT.
Jinhyeok recognized her immediately.
She had been there.
In the white room.
Years ago.
His pulse spiked.
The scanner activated again.
Akira's scent hit him suddenly—close.
Too close.
"Stop," Jinhyeok said sharply.
Every head turned.
The woman studied him. "Is there a problem, Mr. Carter?"
"Yes," he said coldly. "Your system is malfunctioning."
A dangerous accusation.
Her lips curved slightly. "Systems don't malfunction," she said. "People do."
The scanner beeped again.
This time, it didn't error.
It screamed.
Red light flooded the room.
FORBIDDEN BOND PROXIMITY DETECTED
Akira gasped.
"Separate them," the woman ordered calmly.
Hands grabbed Jinhyeok's arms.
He didn't fight.
He couldn't take his eyes off Akira.
Akira's mark was glowing openly now.
Unmistakable.
Uncontainable.
Akira met his gaze, fear and recognition colliding in his eyes.
"You lied to me," Akira whispered.
Jinhyeok's chest ached.
"I did it to protect you."
The woman smiled thinly. "So," she said, "the lost Omega remembers."
Guards moved in.
The hall filled with alarm sirens.
And for the first time since he was a child, Seo Jinhyeok Carter let the Alpha mask crack.
His scent surged.
Pure.
Undeniable.
Omega.