They moved him the next morning.
No warning. No words.
Seo-Yun awoke to the sound of boots outside his door, and then rough hands dragged him from the cot before he could brace for it. This time, they didn't bind him. That unsettled him more than the collar humming softly against his throat.
The corridors they led him through were different—higher ceilings, more light. Not clean, but not like the dungeons either. It smelled faintly of incense. And something else.
Fear. Old. Stale. Soaked into the stone.
A new door opened, and Seo-Yun's knees locked.
The holding ward.
He recognized it from the book—Chapter 38. The communal space where Omegas awaiting reassignment, punishment, or pregnancy checks were kept. It wasn't freedom—it was a cage with more eyes.
The guards shoved him inside and locked the door behind him.
Five others were in the room. All Omegas.
Some looked up when he entered. Others didn't even twitch.
Seo-Yun moved to the farthest corner without a word, back to the wall, knees pulled up to his chest. His entire body was on alert. Every movement around him felt like a threat.
The one nearest to him spoke first.
"You're the new one," they said, voice gravelly with disuse. Their skin was papery, pale, their body thin enough to see ribs through the tunic.
Seo-Yun didn't answer.
"I was new once too," the Omega continued. "Years ago. Or maybe months. Time doesn't move here like it should."
Seo-Yun glanced at them. "Why did they move me here?"
"Sometimes it's a test," the Omega said. "Sometimes they want to see if we'll tear each other apart. Or… bond."
Seo-Yun stiffened.
"I'm not bonding with anyone," he said flatly.
"Good," the Omega said with a crooked smile. "They make you disappear faster when you do."
He learned later their name was Lior. Or had been, once. Lior had graying hair and a long scar running down their side. They didn't move much. Their voice cracked when they spoke too long. But their eyes were sharp.
"You're hiding something," Lior said the second night. "I can smell it."
Seo-Yun froze. "No."
"Don't worry," Lior muttered, eyes drifting to the guards pacing beyond the bars. "I've hidden worse."
Seo-Yun almost asked how. But he didn't. He didn't want to know yet.
Another Omega—a younger one named Renn—wouldn't stop crying. Every night. Seo-Yun tried to ignore it until the sound turned to retching. Then silence. The others didn't even look.
"They gave him suppression drugs," Lior whispered. "He fought during the last cycle. They're purging him now."
Seo-Yun didn't sleep.
Not because of the crying. But because of how familiar it all felt. This was the next phase. The system tightening its grip.
By the fourth day, he was weaker.
He felt it in the way his knees buckled when he stood. In the way the smell of cooked grain made him nearly vomit. In how his belly throbbed beneath his tunic, swollen just enough now to notice.
He needed out.
That night, Lior slid something beneath Seo-Yun's blanket. A thin piece of charcoal. Stolen.
"Draw a map," Lior whispered. "You're watching the guards. You've been tracking their steps. Put it down."
Seo-Yun stared. "Why help me?"
Lior smiled, hollow and tired. "Because I don't have the body left to run. But you do."
Seo-Yun didn't argue.
He drew it slowly, each hallway he remembered, each patrol timing, each locked door.
He'd been in this place long enough to know one thing:
Even a perfect cage has weak points.