The heat inside The Beach was stifling, not only because of the lack of fresh air in the hotel, which had been converted into a refuge, but also because of the chaotic energy that permeated everything: half-naked bodies in the pool, raucous laughter, the smell of alcohol and sweat mixed with cheap perfume. It was a decadent carnival, a desperate attempt to forget that outside, the Borderland was claiming lives.

Chishiya moved through the crowd with the same calculated calm as always. The white coat he still wore hung open over a simple T-shirt, a reminder of his past, but now almost a disguise. His step was light, his clear eyes assessing every corner, every gesture, every strategy hidden beneath the fake smiles of the others.

But there was something else in the atmosphere he couldn't ignore: the biological tension imprinted on that world, as inevitable as the games themselves. The Alphas, Betas, and Omegas coexisted there in an apparent truce, although everyone knew that peace was as fragile as glass.

As he walked down the hallway leading to the bedrooms, he felt several glances fix on him. It wasn't unusual: his mere presence as an Alpha attracted attention, some curious, others charged with a more instinctive interest. But he simply maintained that enigmatic half-smile, the one that never let anyone guess what he was really thinking. He's not a common Alpha; he's not as big or strong as many, neither walks around terrifying Omegas, but he knows how to take care of himself very well thanks to his mind, and that also makes him dangerous in a more subtle way.

As he turned the corner, he ran into you. It wasn't a planned encounter; more like an inevitable brush in that swarm of bodies and gazes. The air was thick for a moment, as if the deafening music in the main hall had suddenly turned off.

He barely tilted his head to see you; only took an innocent sniff to identify you.