Alpha Academy: The omega in disguise

Elias's POV

I didn't go straight to my dorm.

That would've made it too traceable. Predictability got you killed faster than weakness in a place like this. Instead, I cut through the east mezzanine, passing a glass overlook where lower ranks ran obstacle drills two floors down.

None of them looked up. Good. Attention was a weakness.

My boots made no sound as I moved into the elite housing wing private quarters for the top fifteen, isolated from the general dormitories. Fewer eyes. Fewer questions. But the scrutiny here was sharper, quieter, better dressed.

The hallway lights shifted with motion sensors, casting long shadows across the polished concrete. A maid-bot rolled past with a basket of pressed uniforms. Two third-rank trainees exited a room ahead, speaking in low tones. Their conversation halted the moment they saw me.

Not out of respect. Out of wariness.

My door unlocked at my wrist scan. I stepped inside and sealed it behind me.

Silence.

No roommate, no cameras in the private suites, but surveillance was never really gone. The academy tracked movement through doors, pulse readings through SmartWeave uniforms, time stamps for showers, meals, training blocks. Anything could trigger a red flag with the wrong number in the wrong column.

I stripped the training jacket and crossed to the wall cabinet. My reflection in the metal panel stared back, eyes too sharp, shoulders too tight, expression too calm.

A perfect Alpha.

A perfect lie.

I keyed the false compartment open. Inside were two vials left of my mother's formula and a modified injector wrapped in gauze. I didn't take another dose yet, I couldn't risk doubling so soon but I ran my thumb over the glass just to feel something real.

Ronan had been outside the med wing.

Not by coincidence.

He hadn't confronted me. He hadn't called attention. He'd just... been there. A silent radius of pressure with eyes that didn't miss cracks.

I closed the cabinet and pulled on a fresh uniform top, scanning the embedded data strip in the collar. No alerts yet. No summons. That meant the suppressant hadn't tripped any sensors.

Not yet.

A chime from the wall console broke the stillness.

FIELD ROTATION BRIEFING; TOP RANKS ONLY.

ASSEMBLY IN TACTICAL HALL SEVEN.

IN FIVE MINUTES.

Perfect timing.

Which meant off-site combat assignments, team-based missions, and worst of all, proximity. Close quarters. Shared transport. Overnight barracks. No locked doors. No private syringes unless you wanted someone to walk in while the needle was still in your vein.

I secured the collar, fixed the cuffs, checked the wristband. One glance in the panel-mirror to verify the mask was seamless.

Emotionless. Bored. Untouchable.

Then I left.

The upper halls were already shifting with the quiet movement of elites heading to Tactical Hall Seven. I passed Rank 6 and Rank 9 talking in low clipped tones. They fell silent when I approached.

Whispers didn't bother me.

Suspicion did.

The hall opened into a descending corridor lined with reinforced glass, overlooking the indoor aerial sector where drones were being prepped. Two instructors monitored entry, scanning every trainee who passed through the arch.

One of them, Captain Ives, tracked my approach with the calculating stare of someone who never forgot a face or a mistake.

"Arden," he said as I crossed the scanner field.

"Sir."

His gaze lingered a second too long on my wristband. "Report says you exited combat drills early."

"I was dismissed by Instructor Vale," I said evenly.

He watched my expression, looking for a twitch, a lie, a weakness.

He didn't find one.

"Proceed."

Inside, Tactical Hall Seven was a wide, circular chamber with descending rows of metal benches facing a projection wall. Rank 1 through 15 were already filtering in, taking their places without speaking.

I took a seat near the far end of the second row.

I didn't look up when he entered.

But the room changed.

Ronan walked in with the kind of silence that made noise seem disrespectful. He didn't scan the rows; he didn't need to. His presence pressed against the perimeter like heat against glass, warping oxygen, bending attention.

He didn't sit. He stood near the center aisle, hands in his pockets like he might get bored and leave.

But his gaze; calm, it found me anyway.

Not for long.

Two seconds. Maybe less.

It was enough.

A murmur passed through the room, quickly killed when Major Thane entered from the side access.

The briefing began immediately.

"Off-site drills begin at dawn. Field teams will deploy to Ashfall Ridge for surveillance, extraction training, and live-environment combat assessments."

Ashfall Ridge. Perfect. The territory beyond academy walls where feral hybrids roamed and unstable packs warred in the shadows.

Home to illegal trade routes, abandoned bases, and border patrols that shot first and didn't bother asking questions after.

No controlled scents there.

No collar safety nets, No walls.

I kept my breathing even.

Major Thane continued, flicking through digital maps on the projection wall. "Top fifteen will be split into five units. Team assignments will be posted tonight. Transportation leaves at 0500 hours."

He spoke logistics, risk levels, supply protocols, injuries, death rates. None of it mattered.

One thing did.

I couldn't share a camp with someone who'd already sensed what I was.

If Ronan ended up on my team, I wouldn't have twenty-four hours before everything shattered.

The briefing ended with military precision. Dismissal came without room for questions.

I stood.

So did he.

The crowd moved toward the exits in careful clusters, each rank pretending not to measure the others. I thought I could slip out ahead, vanish into the flow and disappear into my room until lights-out.

I was six steps from the door when the air shifted again.

Someone stepped into my path.

Not Ronan.

Kade Rowan.

A Rank 7. Too observant earlier, Too curious now.

His eyes flicked once to my throat, then the rest of my face.

"You look like hell."

"I didn't ask."

He smirked. "You never do. That's why I'm saying it."

I moved to sidestep him.

He shifted to block again.

"You should know," he said quietly, "they're already whispering about today's fight. And not about the outcome."

My bones went still beneath my skin.

He lowered his voice further. "Something was off. They don't know what. But they felt it."

I didn't blink. "If you're looking for a rumor to chase, find a weaker target."

"I don't chase rumors," he said. "I survive them."

Then his gaze cut briefly to someone behind me.

I didn't turn.

I didn't need to.

I could feel Ronan's focus like a wire pulled taut between my spine and his hand.

Kade shifted aside. "See you at dawn, Arden."

I walked out without looking back.

The hall felt colder than before.

The suppressant still held.

But my mask?

It was starting to strain.

And Ronan hadn't even touched it yet.