He was an enigma, a puzzle that didn't fit the predetermined pieces Santa kept in his head, radiating a strange, magnetic energy that should have demanded attention or, at the very least, a moment of pause. But Santa was far past the point of being intrigued.

"Who... who are you?" Santa tilted his head, unimpressed. "I'm Santa Pongsapak, the Council President. And I suggest you learn my name, because I'll be the one making sure you actually attend class from now on." Perth didn't even mind the threat.

Perth straightened up, his frown deepening. The anchor's voice was high, frantic, tripping over words as she described an "unprecedented outbreak" in the heart of the city. On the screen, shaky cell phone footage showed a man-pale, his movements jerky and unnatural-lunging at a group of pedestrians with a terrifying, mindless hunger. Perth's breath hitched. He leaned forward, his eyes glued to the screen as the reporter screamed about a virus, but the audio was suddenly drowned out by a deafening bang. The sound didn't come from the TV. It came from their front door. "PERTH!"

For two years, this track had been Perth's kingdom. He was the golden boy of the underground circuit-precise, calculated, and undefeated. His trophies weren't just metal; they were proof that he was the best the city had to offer. That was before the white Mercedes pulled up to the starting line.

He remembered the burning embarrassment of being called "weird" by the other kids, the whispers that followed him down the hallways, and the teachers who looked at him with gentle, pitying concern. He's just talking to himself again, they'd say. But Santa wasn't talking to himself. He was talking to the lady in the faded floral dress sitting by the swings, or the boy with the bruised knees standing near the fence.

He knew exactly which hands to shake and which egos to stroke, maintaining a web of alliances that kept his company at the undisputed top of the global market. However, Perth's legendary charm had a very specific breaking point. It stopped exactly where the influence of Santa Pongsapak Oudompoch began. Santa, the CEO of Oudompoch Biotech, was the antithesis of Perth's polished persona.

"We already lost our first born, I don't wanna lose you too, Santa." Perth begged as he held Santa's hand, staring right into the omega's glossy, reddened eyes. "How will I live with the fact that our only child is gone, Perth?"

"Stop acting like you know and care about me!" "I am taking care of you, I should know where you and what you do! Don't think I don't care about you!" Perth screamed out, glaring at the teenage boy, his breathing heavy as he tries to calm himself down. "Whatever, Perth!" The teenage boy, Luke, says in a dialect Perth have had heard before. "What did you say?"

"Oh! Right. Santa, this is Perth. He's a friend of Gemini's-basically the most overworked CEO in the city. Perth, this is Santa. He's about to graduate and is currently the world's grumpiest nursing student." Perth turned his head, his dark eyes meeting Santa's. The professional mask he wore seemed to soften slightly. "Nursing, huh? Tough field," Perth said, offering a polite nod.

"Domiia, look out!" The scream from his father was laced with a sudden, paralyzing terror. Domiia turned his head toward the sound, but he didn't see Perth. Instead, two massive, twin spheres of blinding white light surged out of the darkness. The glare was absolute, swallowing the street, the trees, and the world in a searing flash that burned his retinas.