All Chapters of Reborn As The Omega They Killed: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

"Do you really think a pathetic nobody like her deserves to speak in this court?" Jayson Ashford leans toward the microphone, his voice dripping with a casual, devastating cruelty that makes the entire stadium bow in collective approval.I try to lift my head, but the effort is too much. My neck is a roadmap of purple bruising from the interrogators who spent three days trying to make me confess to a murder I didn't commit. The air in the stadium is thick with the scent of expensive cologne and blood. I look up at the three heirs. Jayson is adjusting his cufflinks, looking bored, as if he is waiting for a tedious lecture to end. Simon Ricafort stands slightly behind him, his massive frame blocking the light, his fingers twitching against the hilt of his ceremonial sword. Rafael Blackvale remains in the shadows, his eyes unreadable, watching me with that same clinical detachment he uses to analyze old, dusty manuscripts."She does not deserve a voice," the Headmaster snaps, his face tu

"Why are you staring at the wall like it owes you money?" Clara’s voice cuts through the morning air, sharp and annoying as she tosses her designer gym bag onto the bottom bunk.I jerk upright, the sudden movement making my head spin. The smell hits me first. Cheap lemon floor cleaner mixed with the faint, sickly sweet scent of vanilla body spray. It is the exact scent of the room I lived in before the world decided I was disposable. I scramble to the side of the mattress, my hands gripping the metal frame until my knuckles turn white. Clara is standing right there, rummaging through a drawer, looking exactly as she did three years ago. Her hair is perfectly styled, her skin is flawless, and she has no idea that I know exactly how much she enjoyed watching me bleed."I had a weird dream," I manage to choke out, my voice sounding foreign to my own ears.Clara rolls her eyes and turns to face me, checking her reflection in the mirror with the same bored vanity that used to make me feel

"Watch where you’re going, you useless little gutter rat," a voice sneers from behind me, accompanied by a sharp shove that is clearly intended to send me face first into the lockers.I don't stumble. In my previous life, I would have hit the metal, my shoulder would have popped out of its socket, and I would have spent the rest of the day cleaning blood off the linoleum. This time, I pivot on the ball of my foot, my weight shifting into a perfect counter balance. The bully, a girl named Sarah who prides herself on breaking new Omegas, swings her weight behind the push and finds nothing but air. She trips over her own expensive boots, her arms windmilling as she crashes into the lockers with a dull, sickening thud. The hallway goes dead quiet, the usual hum of gossip dying the second Sarah’s face hits the cold steel."You really need to work on your balance, Sarah, because that was almost embarrassing to watch," I say, my voice steady and completely devoid of the fear she expects.Sar

"You seem to be carrying a lot of weight for someone who supposedly has nothing to worry about," I say, my voice cutting through the library’s suffocating quiet as I lean against the shelf across from her.Evelyn Roda doesn't jump. She doesn't gasp like the other Omegas, who usually treat my presence like a divine visitation or a death sentence. Instead, she slowly closes the leather-bound book in her hands, her fingers lingering on the spine with a possessive, almost protective, grip. Her gaze lifts to mine, and for a moment, the world feels less solid. Her eyes are not the dull, submissive pools of someone beaten into compliance. They are sharp, analytical, and layered with a depth that suggests she has seen the end of the world and found it profoundly boring. I have been watching her for weeks, trying to pin down why she feels like a glitch in the rigid social architecture of this institute."I just like reading, Rafael, and I don't see why my choice of literature should be any of

"She is moving through the corridors like she owns the damn map to this building, and I want to know how," I snap, not bothering to look away from the floor-to-ceiling windows of the student council office as I watch Evelyn Roda navigate the courtyard below.My deputy council member shifts uncomfortably by the door, but I don't give him the satisfaction of a glance. I have been tracking Evelyn’s movements for the last three weeks, and the data is infuriatingly erratic. One day she is the quiet, invisible Omega who keeps her head down and avoids eye contact like it is a physical contagion. The next, she is dismantling entire social traps with a single sentence, leaving my most vicious upperclassmen looking like idiots in front of the entire student body. She isn't just surviving anymore. She is calculating. She is purposeful. And for a reason I cannot yet articulate, it feels like she is preparing to execute a plan that makes my own governance look like a playground game."Sir, she is