Isaac’s hands paused as he tightened the component’s screws. He slowly turned his head and gave Siron a sly, sweeping look.
“That’s right. I used you for that purpose. That’s how you became the only omega.”
“Don’t say that like it’s final. I’m not an omega yet.”
Isaac gave a slight shrug.
“Your blood sample says otherwise.”
“Blood sample? ...You mean the one from a few days ago?”
Siron looked down at him with growing unease.
“Your DNA sequence was clearly distinct from a normal adult male. It revealed a new genetic profile.”
“What does that even mean?”
“It means Yoon Siron has evolved into a new kind of human, one step beyond Homo sapiens.”
Isaac turned back to the analyzer and told Siron to hold the flashlight properly so it wouldn’t cast shadows inside the machine. As he glanced sideways at the stunned Siron, he carefully reconnected the component and system board.
“Luckily, Manu Singh hadn’t reviewed the DNA sequence data yet, so I was able to delete it.”
“Manu Singh?”
“The researcher who took your blood.”
“Oh... that cranky old bastard.”
Isaac silently smiled, as if in agreement. Seeing the unspoken empathy on Isaac’s face, Siron grew even more irritated and snapped.
“Don’t smile. It pisses me off.”
Isaac paused mid-repair and looked at him, puzzled by Siron’s sudden anger. Siron sneered.
“Am I supposed to thank you for deleting it?”
“Save the gratitude. I’m more modest than I look.”
Isaac lightly tapped the machine with his palm.
“Because the analyzer was malfunctioning, the reliability of the results was compromised, so I had to discard the data. Also, tilt your head a bit more to the left. The CCTV can read your lips at that angle.”
He carefully plugged one end of a cable into the component port and added,
“Of course, the analyzer wasn’t really broken. I just had to hide the fact that you’re an omega.”
Siron responded bitterly.
“An omega, huh. Whatever the blood test says, I haven’t had any ‘heat cycles’ or whatever you called them. And there’s no nape slit, either.”
“The nape slit’s hard to detect unless it’s stimulated. Hm. Did another urologist check for it this time?”
Isaac made it sound like a joke, as if reminiscing about their past, and Siron snapped.
“I had sex. Locked up in a motel for three days straight. And I didn’t feel anything like that ‘splitting sensation’ you talked about.”
Isaac flinched slightly but continued the repair without a word. Focused intently on replacing the part, he seemed not to pay Siron’s comment any attention.
Siron regretted saying it the moment it left his mouth. He glanced at Isaac’s unmoving lower body and muttered sarcastically.
“Must suck for you. You tried to turn me into an omega, but you didn’t even get to fuck me and now you’re stuck in a wheelchair.”
But Isaac wasn’t fazed by the mockery. He simply did his work. Once the component was replaced, he reassembled the disassembled service panel in reverse order. His attitude was as if he couldn’t care less what kind of life Siron had lived since they parted.
Isaac pressed the analyzer’s power button and began inputting commands through the control panel.
“You slept with the guy who took you to the urologist, huh? ...I thought I sensed traces of his pheromones on you.”
Still looking at the panel, Isaac asked,
“Did you sense his pheromones too?”
“...A little.”
“Did it make you feel aroused?”
“...Somewhat.”
Siron answered Isaac’s probing questions with a defiant tone—but suddenly, a cold realization hit him. The one who had turned him into an omega... and the only one who might be able to undo it... was Isaac.
“So undo it.”
Siron spoke urgently.
“Turn my body back the way it was.”
Isaac calmly met his gaze. That chilling composure—no ripple on the surface—made Siron grow even more desperate.
“You can’t even have sex in that body anyway, right?”
Isaac let out a dry laugh and answered flatly,
“Forget your old life. There’s no going back.”
“That’s a lie.”
“It’s impossible to reverse the transformation.”
“...Really? There’s no way back?”
To the visibly shaken Siron, Isaac replied in an even, quiet voice.
“I’ll atone to you. Not now, but someday.”
He finally completed the analyzer repair and ran the diagnostic program. The laser scanner activated with a faint beep, and a small light flickered on in the LCD panel. The pale beam of the scanner reflected dimly over Isaac’s face—expressionless, devoid of emotion, like a machine carrying out its function without a trace of humanity.
“What kind of... fucked-up answer is that?!”
Siron shouted like a groan torn from his chest. Staring at Isaac’s cold profile, his heart sank. Instead of acknowledging or denying his wrongdoing, Isaac was postponing atonement. Siron’s anger scraped like a blade across his ribs.
“Hey! You piece of—”
Just as he forgot his own situation and raised his voice, the door burst open.
“What’s going on in here?”
Siron’s pointing finger, aimed straight at Isaac’s face, wavered and spun a small, awkward circle in the air before dropping straight down.
“W-what should I do with that trash?”
Coincidentally, Siron happened to be pointing at the paper box that had held the replacement part—and the snipped cable remnants scattered on the floor. Manu Singh frowned in annoyance at the mess.
“Clean it up.”
Singh looked around the lab briefly, then asked the two of them,
“Have either of you seen 3547?”
“Huh? ...No, he’s not here.”
“You’re certain?”
“Yes. Come in and see for yourself.”
“No need.”
Singh dismissed the suggestion with a wave of his hand, as if swatting away a bothersome insect. He stared at Siron’s innocent expression with suspicion.
Only then did Siron realize he’d completely forgotten about 3547. They’d been together when Beardface chased him up the stairs—but the moment Beardface lunged, 3547 had vanished.
“Isaac, draw his blood and analyze it.”
Singh let out a heavy sigh and issued the order before hurrying out of the lab.
Moments later, sirens began blaring inside and outside the building. The urgent alarm that rang out across the entire island tightened something deep in Siron’s chest.
He forgot all about being angry at Isaac and instinctively ran to the window. Armed alphas on electric carts and motorcycles were swarming every part of the island. Siron stared intently at the tall steel antenna tower in the distance. He figured 3547 would target it, since the guy believed satellites were being used to control people’s brainwaves. Fortunately, he hadn’t climbed the tower to damage the antenna—but it wouldn’t be long before he was captured and punished for trying to escape.
As the sirens rang out ominously, the two of them headed across the hall to the blood-drawing room. It was a simple space with a white table, some blood collection tools, and two chairs facing each other. Isaac rolled into the far side, pushed one chair aside with his wheelchair, and waited for Siron.
Once the glass door shut, the sirens became a dull murmur. Siron, still seething with hatred toward Isaac, was momentarily drawn out of reality by the sound of the alarm.
If 3547 was caught, he might be executed as an example for trying to escape. Normally, Siron wouldn’t have cared whether some drugged-out lunatic died—but now, for some reason, it felt personal.
3543 and 3547. They hadn’t even exchanged names, only shared a situation where they were stripped of identity and called by numbers. The idea of 3547 dying just like that made Siron feel grossly unsettled.
“What happens if someone gets caught trying to escape?”
Siron asked as Isaac tied a yellow tourniquet around his upper arm.
“Do they get killed?”
Isaac shook his head.
“They’ll probably survive. They wouldn’t go through the trouble of bringing a beta all the way to the island just to kill him over an escape attempt...”
Isaac trailed off, paused in thought, then seemed to realize something.
“I never explained what a beta is, did I?”
Siron scratched the side of his mouth, glancing at the CCTV in the corner.
“I know what betas are. And etas too. I’ve heard things.”
His voice was edged with irritation. He muttered bitterly,
“Alphas really are obsessed with sex, huh. It’s fucking disgusting.”
Isaac replied as if amused,
“Alphas are simply carriers of beta male libido. That’s all they are.”
Siron fell silent. The more he thought about it, the harder it became to refute. Only after becoming the target of sexual desire himself did he begin to understand why so many women lived in constant fear.
“Well, at least they’re not going into rut over me.”
Siron, caught in a wave of gloom, thought about the alphas on the island, the kidnapped homeless men, and the omega he was slowly becoming. Alphas needed omegas—and this island had the perfect conditions to manufacture one.
Isaac had said he destroyed the trafficking ring in Beljoras, but Siron wasn’t naïve enough to believe him outright. If Isaac were truly opposed to these people, he wouldn’t be cooperating so easily. Besides, every captive here—Siron included—had been drugged without explanation or consent.
“You’re experimenting on the people kidnapped to this island—trying to turn them into omegas, right?”
Siron asked as Isaac retrieved the blood draw supplies from the shelf. Like you did to me, he thought, but didn’t say.
At first, Siron had assumed the captors were injecting drugs to turn people into etas. But once he discovered Isaac was here, the theory changed. They were turning them into omegas.
But Isaac corrected him.
“In this world, you’ll be the only omega. No need for spares.”
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