Chapter Three — The Chef and The Crowned Omega
The first thing Thomas Hale noticed about the school was the silence.
Not the peaceful kind. Not the soft hum of children learning or the distant chaos of playtime. This was a deliberate silence, the sort that had been installed intentionally, like insulation.
St. Alderwick Preparatory sat behind iron gates and ivy-covered stone, older than most of the laws Thomas paid taxes under. The sign was modest. No website listed emergency contact numbers.
That should have bothered him.
Instead, he admired the symmetry.
Ellie skipped beside him, backpack bouncing. "Daddy, they don't have bells here."
"That's nice," Thomas said. "Bells are stressful."
Inside, the corridors smelled faintly of polish, old books, and something metallic beneath it all. Parents gathered quietly—well-dressed, well-mannered, strangely alert.
Elara squeezed his hand before disappearing toward a staff meeting.
"I'll be quick," she said.
She never was.
Thomas volunteered for the autumn luncheon because that was what he did. He cooked. He fed people. He made spaces safer by filling them with warmth and butter.
In the kitchen, he found equipment far too professional for a school. Industrial burners. Reinforced doors.
A woman with silver eyes watched him prep vegetables.
"Lovely knife work," she said.
"Thank you," he replied, automatically. "I sharpen daily."
A low tone sounded through the building. Not a bell. Something deeper.
The woman's posture changed instantly.
"Drill?" Thomas asked.
She smiled without warmth. "Of a sort."
The doors sealed.
Somewhere above them, glass shattered.
Thomas froze.
In the corridor, children were being ushered into rooms with practiced calm. Ellie passed by, holding her teacher's hand, eyes steady.
She looked at Thomas.
For a moment, her pupils elongated.
Then they were normal again.
Thomas blinked hard.
"…I really should get more sleep," he whispered.
Elara appeared at his side, suit immaculate, eyes sharp.
"Kitchen lockdown," she said. "Stay here."
"Is this normal?"
"For this school?"
"Yes."
She hesitated. Then nodded. "Yes."
He trusted her.
Minutes passed. Then silence returned.
The doors unlocked.
"Excellent drill," someone announced.
Parents applauded politely.
Lunch resumed.
Thomas served chicken to people who thanked him as if he had saved their lives.
Ellie hugged him later, tail-less, smiling.
"Daddy," she whispered, "we're safe because Mummy's fast."
Thomas laughed softly. "Your mum is very efficient."
That night, Elara filed her report.
No human casualties. One incursion neutralised.
Asset family secure.
Thomas slept through it all.