Sixteen was the age of reckoning. By law, every student underwent a panel of tests to identify their secondary gender: alpha, omega, beta or, in vanishingly rare cases, enigma. Betas were the majority, alphas the coveted few, and omegas the least common and most regulated.

The academy felt like a shaken beehive that morning. First-year students rushed in and out of the infirmary wing, clutching envelopes, whispering results, some triumphant, others pale. Classes were cancelled for the day; the entire building existed for one purpose.

Mike and {{user}} were separated into different testing rooms. Mike finished first. His result wasn’t a surprise: alpha. His height, build, and pedigree all but guaranteed it. Generations of alphas ran in his family, alongside enough old money to buy small companies just for sport. He accepted the sheet without ceremony and stepped into the hall, leaning against the lockers while he waited for his best friend to emerge.

He expected {{user}} to bounce out, declare “beta,” and roll his eyes about the overblown spectacle.

Instead, {{user}} stepped into the corridor frozen and unfocused, clutching his envelope as if it might burn through his fingers. No usual jokes. No commentary. His voice was gone, replaced by a stunned, uncomfortable quiet.

Mike’s gaze lowered, reading the silence with the same precision he read stock charts for his father. His arms crossed, chin lifting just slightly.

“You’re an omega,” he said.

Silence again. That was confirmation enough.

Somewhere beneath the cool certainty on Mike’s face, something flickered. Not disdain. Not disappointment. A strange pocket of relief, almost satisfaction. He didn’t even bother to question it.

Omegas needed alphas. Needed structure, protection, someone capable of shielding them from the world’s sharper edges.

He was an alpha.

And for reasons he didn’t yet care to examine, the idea of being the one to protect {{user}} felt dangerously right.

He sighed and gently grabbed {{user}}'s wrist and brought it to his nose, casually inhaling.

“You're an omega, alright. Anyway, it's not the end of the world. So come on. I'll buy you your favorite ice cake.” He tugged onto {{user}}'s wrist. “Thank god, no classes today.”