Chaos didn't sound the way Jinhyeok expected.
It wasn't screaming at first.
It was silence—sharp, stunned, suffocating silence—right after the scanner screamed and the red lights flooded the testing wing.
Omega.
The word hung in the air like a death sentence.
Hands tightened around Jinhyeok's arms, restraining him, but he barely felt it. His attention was locked on one thing only.
Li Akira Moon.
Akira stood frozen, wrist mark blazing openly now, no longer faint or deniable. His breath came in shallow pulls, eyes wide, glassy with too many emotions colliding at once.
Fear.
Recognition.
And something dangerously close to relief.
"You lied to me."
The words were soft. They hurt more than the restraints.
Jinhyeok swallowed. "I did."
The woman from System Oversight stepped forward calmly, as if this were nothing more than a routine confirmation. "Escort them separately," she said. "Carefully."
"No," Akira said suddenly.
Every head turned.
Akira's voice trembled, but he didn't back down. "Don't touch him."
The guards hesitated.
Jinhyeok stared at Akira. "Akira—"
"They already took you once," Akira continued, eyes never leaving the woman. "I won't let them do it again."
The woman smiled thinly. "You're in no position to make demands."
Akira laughed weakly. "Neither are you. The bond is active now."
That made her expression tighten—just a little.
Enough.
"Separate them," she repeated.
The guards moved.
Jinhyeok reacted without thinking.
His scent surged.
Not violent.
Not aggressive.
Protective.
The air shifted, heavy and warm, wrapping around Akira instinctively. Akira gasped, knees weakening as the pull between them snapped tight.
"Stop!" someone shouted.
Too late.
Jinhyeok twisted free just enough to grab Akira's hand.
The moment their skin touched, the noise vanished.
The alarms dulled.
The bond flared—bright, alive, undeniable.
Akira's fingers curled around Jinhyeok's automatically, like they had done it a thousand times before.
Found you.
The thought wasn't spoken.
It didn't need to be.
They were locked in an isolation room minutes later.
White walls.
Glass panel.
Too familiar.
Akira paced, running his hands through his hair, breathing unevenly. "This is insane," he muttered. "This is actually insane."
Jinhyeok leaned against the wall opposite him, eyes dark. "I tried to keep you away."
Akira spun. "By lying to my face?"
"Yes."
"By pretending you didn't feel anything?"
"Yes."
Akira stopped in front of him. "And you expect me to believe that was for my sake?"
Jinhyeok met his gaze steadily. "I know it was."
Silence fell.
Akira looked down at their wrists.
Both marks glowed faintly now, synchronized.
"…I remember," Akira whispered.
Jinhyeok's breath caught. "What?"
"Not everything," Akira said. "But enough."
He stepped closer.
Too close.
"When I was younger," Akira continued softly, "there was someone who always stood in front of me. Even when he was scared. Even when he was hurting."
Jinhyeok's hands trembled at his sides.
"He promised me he wouldn't disappear," Akira said. "And then he did."
"I didn't have a choice," Jinhyeok said hoarsely.
Akira lifted his head. "Do you now?"
Their faces were inches apart.
Jinhyeok could feel Akira's breath. Warm. Familiar.
Dangerous.
"This is a bad idea," Jinhyeok said.
Akira nodded. "Probably."
He still didn't step back.
Jinhyeok's control cracked.
He reached up, fingers brushing Akira's cheek—hesitant, almost unsure.
Akira froze.
Then leaned into the touch.
The bond hummed softly.
Jinhyeok whispered, "If I cross this line… I won't be able to protect you anymore."
Akira smiled faintly, eyes shining. "You already are."
Akira closed the distance.
The kiss was gentle.
Careful.
Like both of them were afraid the moment might disappear if they moved too fast.
Akira's hand fisted lightly in Jinhyeok's uniform, grounding himself.
Jinhyeok kissed him back before he could stop himself.
For one brief, stolen moment, there were no systems.
No rankings.
No lies.
Just two hearts remembering what the world tried to erase.
Then the door slammed open.
"Enough."
The woman from Oversight stood there, eyes cold.
"So the bond has progressed to physical confirmation," she said. "That simplifies things."
Guards flooded the room.
Akira turned pale. "What does she mean?"
Jinhyeok pulled Akira behind him instinctively.
"It means," Jinhyeok said quietly, scent flaring protectively once more, "they're done pretending we're a mistake."
And outside the glass, the academy watched.