Noah hurried back through the passage and out of the dormitory, heart still pounding from the chaotic encounter. He had taken far too long, and no one needed to tell him that—he could sense it immediately. The entire area around the dorm was eerily empty, with not a single soul in sight apart from himself.
"Curse you, alphas," he muttered under his breath. "Lamia warned me to stay away from you. I just don’t know why I couldn’t listen." He exhaled sharply, sending a silent prayer that nobody would notice him as he tried to sneak his way into the assembly, hoping it was still underway.
The moment he stepped out of the dorm building, his eyes widened in shock at the enormous crowd gathered ahead. This was nothing like what he had imagined an assembly would look like. Rows upon rows of students sat in pristine white uniforms, appearing like perfect angels from a distance. Yet all Noah could see were hidden demons beneath the surface. He was certain that somewhere among them lurked that flesh-eating creature—if not one, then possibly two. The thought sent a chill down his spine.
He scanned the lines of seats, and the hierarchy was impossible to miss. It was drawn sharply into every detail. The rich alphas, betas, and omegas occupied the front rows on elevated, almost throne-like seats that gleamed with gold accents. Even among the elite, the same rigid structure held: alphas claimed the prime spots, followed by betas, with omegas trailing behind despite their wealth. Better opportunities always seemed reserved for alphas, while betas received a decent share, leaving omegas with scraps.
Noah felt a wave of mild annoyance wash over him. He saw it as pure hypocrisy. Weren’t omegas the ones who ensured the continuation of their society by bringing new life into the world? Why then were they treated like disposable tools? If he could voice his thoughts freely, he would argue that omegas were far more valuable. They brought balance and harmony to the entire structure. But with so many of them, their worth was overlooked and undervalued. Well, he wasn’t going to accept it quietly. Noah Evernight, an omega himself, planned to make a difference. He would fight to change how his people were treated like slaves.
Hidden among the thick trees in the garden just ahead of the gathering, Noah continued observing. Beyond the top elites sat the middle-class students, mirroring the same alpha-beta-omega hierarchy. At the very back was the poor section, containing only a handful of alphas and mostly omegas. He couldn’t understand why the distribution was so skewed, but that area was packed tightly. Their seats looked terrible—basic, uncomfortable benches placed at the extreme edge of the field. He doubted they could even hear the speakers properly from there.
Staff members stood around like silent watchers. These were the same teachers who claimed to guide the students, yet they allowed such blatant inequality without a word. Noah would bet anything that many of them contributed to the problems. Lamia had strictly warned him to avoid them. Although he had already caught the attention of the battle magic teacher, he had no desire to draw more eyes on himself.
"This school doesn’t feel right," he thought. "Something around here is deeply wrong." It felt as if he was the only one reacting this way. Everyone else behaved like Aetherion Academy was the best place in existence. Or was it because he had transmigrated into this body? The question lingered unanswered, but at least he had some internal guidance. If he were truly alone in this, he would have lost his mind long ago. And with the alphas constantly sticking their noses into his business, he wasn’t sure how long he could keep his secret—that he wasn’t really Ashton—hidden.
Why him, of all people? They had treated him like dirt before, so why were they suddenly everywhere he went? They already had their perfect doll-like female in Sylvia. Why fixate on him now?
He kept monitoring the scene, looking for anything he could use to his advantage. Another detail stood out: the way the assembly was conducted. It didn’t feel like normal classroom vibes at all. Instead of standard subjects, the teachings focused heavily on supernatural topics. Human and natural sciences were laced with magic, making everything feel twisted and unnatural. Biology, for instance, mixed with systems of magical creatures. If that wasn’t confusing enough, he didn’t know what could be worse.
They were constantly referred to as "saviors of the world." Noah didn’t fully understand why, but connecting it with what Mr. Warwold had mentioned earlier, it seemed they were being trained as if the end of the world was approaching. What if something catastrophic was coming? What if special individuals were chosen to attend this academy—oops, he had forgotten the name again—for intensive magical training to prepare for battle? If that was the case, then Noah, who knew next to nothing about magic, was definitely heading for serious trouble.
He stood there formulating a plan on how to uncover more about himself and this world when someone poked him sharply from behind and yelled, "See what we have here! Someone monitoring us instead of joining the assembly."
Oh fuck. Not again.
Noah turned to face the voice and felt immediate disgust. It was Eugene—the one person he could proudly say he hated with every fiber of his being. The guy was a messed-up human being through and through.
"I was on my own. Why did you have to come here?" Noah murmured. Eyes from the crowd were now turning toward him, gauging and judging. They were probably wondering why he had been dodging the assembly. He didn’t have a good excuse ready, other than wanting to observe the social structure from outside to see how the patterns fit together. But he couldn’t say that out loud.
He couldn’t let them suspect he wasn’t really Ashton, but some kind of intruder. How would they react if they knew someone who didn’t belong had suddenly appeared in their midst? It would only create unnecessary trouble for him and the entire institution.
Eugene smirked. "Wanted to give you another dose of your reward for that embarrassment back at the cafeteria. And one last warning—more is coming."
Then a man walked up to them and gave Noah a condescending look. From his attire and expression, it was clearly a staff member. Noah gulped nervously.
"Another day breaking Lamia’s lecture. Oh gosh, he is going to fill me with ’I told you so.’ Fuck it." The man paused and glanced back at him as if he had heard the muttered words. Noah quickly shut his mouth and followed behind without protest.
As they reached the assembly ground, just as expected, he was called upon stage.
"Can this young man tell us all what he was doing over there when he was supposed to be with us in the assembly? Or don’t you know the rules?" the headmistress demanded.
Noah didn’t want to look at the crowd behind him. He could already guess how the girls—especially Sylvia and her group—were smirking, loving every second of his embarrassment. But he refused to give them the satisfaction of seeing him crumble.
When he hesitated to step forward toward the stage lined with creepy-looking teachers, the headmistress frowned. Her face was too pale, almost as if she had no blood running through her veins. If he were honest, she looked like a vampire, but those were supposed to be fairytale creatures that didn’t exist. He prayed silently that they didn’t.
"I wasn’t doing anything bad," Noah started, nearly implicating himself further. Before he could dig a deeper hole, a calm voice cut through like a sea at rest.
"I sent him on an errand to bring something for me. He’s my messenger."
Noah recognized the voice instantly—it belonged to Killian. He didn’t want to accept being anyone’s messenger. That basically labeled him as a servant, almost a slave. But denying it now would land him in even deeper trouble than before.
For some reason, when he locked eyes with Killian across the distance, a chilling sensation crawled down his spine. It didn’t feel ordinary at all.
"Well? Is that true?" The question was directed straight at him. Seeing the trap laid perfectly by Killian yet recognizing it as his only way out, Noah nodded quickly.
"Yeah, he sent me on an errand."
As a poor omega, it was common for them to be treated as maids or servants for the elite. No one seemed surprised. The headmistress, whom Noah was already starting to hate, scoffed loudly.
"Keep the leech on your dog tightly, Killian. It’s assembly time."
Mrs. Marie’s words stung. The woman had just called him a dog. That insult was going to fuel his determination to change things.
Forcing himself to move, Noah made his way to the front row and positioned himself at the opposite end near Killian’s seat—except his bold action clearly displeased a particular pick-me girl nearby. Noah found a small spark of satisfaction in that.