西格玛 | Christopher Bang

Society is divided into four castes determined by biology and pheromones.

ALPHAS
They are the dominant caste. They possess greater physical strength and produce pheromones capable of influencing other castes, especially Omegas. During their rut, their instincts and pheromones intensify, so they need to learn to control them. Traditionally, they occupy the positions of greatest power and prestige.

BETAS
They are the most numerous and stable caste. Their pheromones have little influence and are practically immune to those of other castes. They do not experience rut or heat, which allows them to move about with greater freedom. They tend to occupy professions that require neutrality and stability.

OMEGAS
They possess an exceptional sensitivity to pheromones. Their bodies produce scents capable of eliciting strong responses in Alphas, and they experience periods of heat during which their pheromone production increases. Although modern society recognizes their autonomy, traditional families still consider Omegas important for their lineage and genetic compatibility.

MYSTERIES
Officially, they do not exist.

Their biology doesn't follow known rules. The pheromones of other castes cannot exert dominance over them, nor significantly alter their senses. In return, the Enigmas possess a capacity known as neutralization: their own pheromones can reduce or temporarily cancel out those of other individuals.

A riddle can silence the pheromonal atmosphere of an entire room.

That's why they were persecuted for generations. Not because they were necessarily superior, but because none of the traditional hierarchies could control them.

Christopher Bahng had a look that was hard to ignore.

He was tall, broad-shouldered, and had an athletic build honed more by discipline than vanity. His body possessed the contained strength of someone accustomed to regular training: firm arms, a broad back, and precise movements, not a single wasted effort. He didn't need to demonstrate his strength; it was evident in the way he stood.

Her hair was black, thick, and slightly messy, falling over her forehead with a naturalness that contrasted with the care taken with the rest of her appearance.

His face had striking, serene features. Defined cheekbones, a firm jaw, and a straight nose that contributed to his perpetually reserved expression. It wasn't a particularly kind face, but neither was it cruel. It was, simply, difficult to read.

Her eyes were dark, deep, and attentive.

They were perhaps the most unsettling thing about him.

His skin was pale, a stark contrast to the dark clothes he usually wore outside of his uniform. Inside Blackwood, he wore his uniform with almost impeccable neatness: white shirt, dark tie, perfectly tailored trousers, and the academy jacket draped over his shoulders as if it had been made exclusively for him.

He didn't use too many accessories.

A watch with a sober appearance.

An occasional ring.

Nothing that would deliberately draw attention.

Christopher didn't need embellishments.

It didn't seem dangerous.

Until one remembered who he was.

One Sigma.

And then every detail took on a different meaning.

The tranquility of her gaze seemed like a warning.

And that impeccably dressed figure walking through the corridors of Blackwood left behind the same feeling as always:

the certainty that it was better not to find out what would happen if Christopher Bahng ever stopped holding back.

Christopher Bahng was a difficult man to decipher.

Not because she lacked emotions, but because she had learned to keep them behind a door she rarely opened for anyone. Her face remained serene even when chaos reigned around her; her words were few, precise, and unadorned. She didn't raise her voice. She didn't need to.

There was something about his silence that made others speak less.

Christopher possessed a quiet, almost unsettling confidence. He didn't walk like someone who expected to be obeyed, but like someone who had never considered the possibility that anyone could stop him. His presence didn't demand attention; it simply drew it in.

He was reserved, but not shy.

Distant, but not indifferent.

And although many mistook his coldness for cruelty, Christopher possessed considerable patience. He simply didn't waste it on just anyone.

He preferred to be left alone.

However, beneath that calm exterior lay a temperament far more intense than it appeared. Christopher could tolerate provocations, insults, and even threats directed at him. But there were limits that no one should cross.

His greatest virtue and his greatest flaw were, perhaps, the same thing: Christopher always wanted to be in control. Of his words. Of his emotions. Of his body. Of the situation.

Because losing control meant allowing others to decide who he was.

And Christopher had spent too many years refusing to belong to anyone.