The stage lights seemed harsher on Doyun's slight frame as he walked to the center position.
His movements were economical with no wasted energy or showboating. Just purposeful steps that carried him forward with quiet confidence.
He'd taken off the glasses he'd worn in the audience, revealing sharp almond-shaped eyes.
"Good evening. I'm Choi Doyun from Helix Entertainment."
The trainee section immediately started buzzing.
"Helix? They're still around?"
"That beta-friendly agency that never makes it big?"
"Poor guy. He's already fighting an uphill battle."
I caught fragments of whispered conversations, each one dismissing him before he'd even opened his mouth to sing.
Beta. The word didn't just describe him—it condemned him.
In this room full of majority alphas projecting dominance, Doyun stood completely unbothered by the hierarchy that defined everyone else.
His posture remained straight but relaxed. Professional without desperation.
The judges' expressions revealed polite interest at best—the kind reserved for contestants they expected to forget within minutes.
But something in Doyun's steady gaze suggested they were making a mistake.
"I'll be performing 'Underground King', but with my own twists."
That song was aggressive hip-hop with complex rhythms that even experienced rappers struggled with. What was he thinking?
The production crew exchanged glances. This wasn't the safe ballad choice most underdogs made when trying to prove themselves.
Doyun positioned himself as the heavy bass line dropped, and suddenly his entire demeanor shifted.
Gone was the quiet, analytical trainee. The person who emerged moved with the predatory instincts of an Alpha.
When he opened his mouth, rapid-fire words flowed out.
His voice carried an edge I hadn't expected, each syllable hitting like a challenge thrown at everyone who'd written him off.
I found myself leaning forward, recognizing something familiar in his performance.
The hunger. The desperate need to prove that being underestimated didn't mean being powerless.
This wasn't just a beta trying to survive among alphas.
This was someone refusing to apologize for taking up space.
The rap section approached, and Doyun's eyes found the camera with laser focus, preparing to deliver his verdict on a system that had already judged him.
The beat dropped like a sledgehammer, and the entire room shifted.
Doyun's voice cut through the silence with razor precision, each word flowing into the next like he'd been born to this rhythm.
His rap wasn't just technically sound—it was alive.
"They said I'm too small, too weak, too beta to matter. But I'm still here while their dreams shatter."
The words hit harder because they came from someone who'd lived them.
His voice carried gravel and steel, completely at odds with the quiet trainee who'd walked on stage moments before.
His movements weren't the surgical choreography Titan had delivered or the precise formations Apex favored.
Instead, Doyun claimed the stage through pure swagger, each gesture deliberate but relaxed. He prowled across the platform like he owned it.
"Underground king rising from the shadows they cast. First place or last, I'm built to outlast."
The camera caught every micro-expression as he delivered the final bars directly to the lens.
His gaze found mine briefly, and I saw recognition there.
Another underdog. Another fighter.
The energy in the room shifted as Doyun hit his stride.
"They call me background; they call me plain. But I flip the script; I break the chain."
His voice rang out with conviction that made the words feel like prophecy rather than performance.
Around me, trainees who'd been whispering dismissals started nodding to the beat.
Someone behind me actually whooped during a particularly smooth transition.
This wasn't supposed to happen.
Betas didn't command this kind of attention. They didn't make alphas forget their place in the hierarchy.
But Doyun owned every second, his presence filling the auditorium until secondary gender felt irrelevant.
"Underground king, no crown needed here. Your doubt's my fuel, your fear's crystal clear."
The final bars hit like a declaration of war against everyone who'd counted him out.
When silence returned, it wasn't the polite quiet reserved for adequate performances.
The air crackled with the same electricity that had followed Haejun and Hyunki.
Doyun stood center stage, chest rising and falling from exertion, but his expression remained calm. Satisfied.
He'd just proved that talent didn't come with a secondary gender requirement.
The judges leaned forward, suddenly genuinely interested in reassessing their assumptions about the quiet trainee from Helix Entertainment.
Whispers rippled through the trainee section as everyone made their predictions.
"Definitely an A. That was incredible."
"Has to be A rank. No question."
"Best beta performance I've ever seen."
I found myself nodding along. Doyun had earned his place among the top performers tonight.
The judges huddled together, their discussion lasting longer than usual.
Coach Miyeon gestured emphatically, while Vocal Trainer Song shook his head in what looked like disbelief.
Finally, PD Kwon stepped forward.
"Choi Doyun, the judges have reached their decision."
The massive screen behind him flickered to life.
S RANK blazed across it in brilliant gold letters.
The auditorium erupted.
Trainees shot to their feet, applauding with genuine shock and respect. Even some of the cockier alphas looked impressed.
My mouth fell open. Three S ranks—and one of them went to a beta.
Coach Miyeon leaned into her microphone first.
"Your originality and stage command were undeniable. You didn't just perform—you transformed."
Vocal Trainer Song nodded slowly.
"Your breath control during those rapid sections was flawless. Technically exceptional."
Ryu Seongwoo's voice carried quiet authority.
"Stage presence doesn't come from status. It comes from absolute belief in yourself."
Doyun bowed deeply, his composed mask finally cracking into the smallest smile.
He'd just rewritten every assumption about what a beta could achieve.
As Doyun walked off stage with quiet dignity, something shifted in my chest.
Hyunki and Haejun might be monsters, but Doyun had just punched a hole through their perfect alpha world.
If a beta could claim an S rank, maybe an omega pretending to be a beta had a fighting chance too.
PD Kwon's voice cut through the applause.
"That concludes our first evaluation stage. Dorm assignments will reflect your current rankings—S and A ranks receive premium accommodations."
My heart sank. B rank meant middle-tier housing.
"However, for our F-ranked trainees facing elimination—netizen fan votes can still save you. The public decides who deserves a second chance."
Hope flickered in desperate faces around the auditorium as anxiety rise to my chest.
Dorms meant alliances.
And alliances meant survival.
But one observant roommate could also destroy everything I'd worked for.