Noah sat at the window, staring out at the streets below. The city was still shrouded in early morning haze, the kind that muffled footsteps and secrets alike. He felt like a ghost watching a world that had forgotten him.
Behind him, Eun-Ha was checking his knives.
Not metaphorically. Actual knives—small, precise, illegal.
> "You always carry weapons?" Noah asked quietly.
Eun-Ha gave him a side glance. "You don't?"
Noah didn't answer. He hadn't carried anything except fear for years.
Suddenly, Eun-Ha's head snapped toward the window.
> "Shit."
He moved fast, yanking Noah away from the sill and pulling him back into the shadows of the room. Noah stumbled into his chest, heart hammering.
> "What is it?" he whispered.
> "Scent enforcers. Alpha units. They're on the third floor already."
Noah's breath caught. His instincts screamed to run, but Eun-Ha held his wrist tight.
> "You go now, they'll catch your trail," he said. "Stay still. Mask your scent."
> "I can't—I never learned how—"
> "Then feel what you fear. Don't push it down. Let it burn through you. Pain, shame, rage—use it."
Noah stared at him, but Eun-Ha wasn't giving him some sweet, gentle speech. His voice was cold, focused. Like this was war. Like he knew Noah could do it—or he'd die trying.
Heavy footsteps pounded up the hallway. A metallic voice echoed from beyond the door:
> "Sector 47 sweep. Open or we enter."
Noah panicked. His scent spiked, sweet and sharp like crushed violets and ash. Eun-Ha cursed under his breath, grabbed a small vial from his pocket, and smashed it at their feet.
A thick, pungent aroma—sour, chemical—rose instantly.
The door burst open.
Three Alphas in black armor stepped in, scanning. Weapons ready. Their nostrils flared. Their expressions twisted.
> "Omega trail... but corrupted. Scent's been masked."
One of them stepped further in, sniffing the air like a predator.
Noah froze. His heart thudded so loudly it echoed in his ears.
Eun-Ha, standing still like a statue, narrowed his eyes. Then, like flipping a switch, he changed his posture—shoulders back, smirk in place, exuding lazy confidence.
> "You boys always barge into private homes? I charge extra for guests."
The tallest Alpha turned to him.
> "You're not registered."
> "Neither is half this block," Eun-Ha replied coolly. "So what? You gonna sniff every crevice of my apartment now?"
The Alpha growled. But Eun-Ha didn't flinch.
> "No Omega scent worth tracking here," another one muttered. "Let's move."
Moments later, they were gone.
Only when the door slammed shut behind them did Noah collapse to his knees.
Eun-Ha crouched beside him, offering a half-burnt cloth to press against his nose.
> "You okay?"
Noah nodded shakily. "How did you do that? They didn't sense me."
Eun-Ha didn't smile this time.
> "Because they don't expect Omegas to fight. Or lie. Or survive."
He stood, walking toward the window again. His voice softened only slightly.
> "But we do. Every day."