Chapter Text
Epithets like "greatest of all time" and "immortal" invariably followed his name. The sheer weight carried by the summoner name Faker was astonishing. He was beyond a mere player—he was a living legend. Seated on the throne, he had overcome the challenges of time and the onslaught of every competitor, his legacy a testament to an indomitable will that surmounted any adversity.
His secondary gender was a strictly guarded secret. Yet, the composure he maintained throughout the game—the intensely calm and self-disciplined attitude, coupled with a powerful dominance and charisma that utterly overwhelmed opponents—were unequivocally the hallmarks of a Dominant Alpha. In his presence, leading his team without faltering, the public became increasingly certain: the world's best mid-laner must, naturally, be an Alpha.
Yet, beneath his flawless exterior lay the most contradictory truth. Faker, the player universally hailed as the ultimate Alpha, was in reality a Recessive Omega.
For years, Sanghyeok had maintained a set of meticulously refined habits to conceal his Omega nature. Taking pheromone suppressants at a fixed time every day was a routine as fundamental as breathing itself. This was his fortress against the vulnerability of instincts he could not self-regulate. The suppressants muted the bittersweet rose scent of his pheromones—the very essence of his being—and scrubbed away every trace of Omega presentation. His entire perfection relied upon that one small pill. His life was governed by a singular, rigid goal: never to make a mistake, whether on the stage or in his life.
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Just before the match, Sanghyeok reached for his medication as part of his familiar routine. The complication was that he had recently been taking both painkillers for his sore wrist and the pheromone suppressants, and their schedules had overlapped.
Opening the container and picking up a pill, Sanghyeok swallowed it without a moment of deep reflection, yet the swallowed tablet was the painkiller, not the suppressant. The fatal mistake stemmed from the conflicting dosage times. His mind was so singularly focused on the upcoming match that Sanghyeok completely failed to detect this critical error.
Sitting in the players' lounge reviewing the final strategy before the game, Sanghyeok felt a sudden, alarming shift. An extreme dizziness, intense enough to make him furrow his brow, hammered his head. His vision seemed to momentarily blur, and immediately, a fierce heat began to surge through his body. It was a vicious temperature, as though a furnace had suddenly ignited deep within him.
The fact that Sanghyeok was a Recessive Omega was a complete secret to all but a handful of individuals. He could not afford to reveal the weakness that the greatest mid-laner was a fragile Omega whose instincts could compromise the game. Moreover, with the match moments away, to state, 'I might be unable to play because I'm experiencing a heat cycle,' would be the worst possible move, shattering the team's morale and destroying their strategy. Sanghyeok's professional consciousness strictly forbade the action.
Sanghyeok strived to maintain a composed expression and rose naturally. As if merely needing a moment to clear his head, he calmly headed for the restroom. He needed an isolated space before his rationality completely broke. Upon arriving, Sanghyeok tightly gripped the sink with both hands. He desperately hoped the cold touch of the porcelain would briefly quell the escalating heat.
It was precisely then that the sound of the restroom door opening echoed. The person who walked in was Gen.G's mid-laner and a Dominant Alpha, 'Chovy' Jihoon. Though Gen.G and T1 were not scheduled to play that day, the international tournament was underway, and Jihoon had arrived for his later match.
Jihoon was a premier mid-laner who dominated the league alongside Sanghyeok. His summoner name, 'Chovy', was synonymous with dazzling talent and astonishing mechanics. Crucially, he was Sanghyeok's ultimate rival, having fiercely threatened the throne and defeated him numerous times throughout countless battles. Outside the competitive arena, however, their relationship was strictly professional, with little personal interaction.
Jihoon discovered Sanghyeok leaning over the sink, clearly in distress. Simultaneously, he realized that the source of the sweet, dangerous rose scent was none other than 'Faker' Sanghyeok. The most devastating secret of his admired figure and long-time rival had just been laid bare. Confusion and pure shock surfaced on Jihoon's face. He found himself asking an honest question, almost involuntarily.
"Sanghyeok-hyung, were you an Omega?"
Sanghyeok flinched at Jihoon's voice. Shame surged at the realization that a secret he had fought so desperately to conceal had been discovered by his rival mid-laner. Still, he struggled fiercely to maintain his composure. He gripped the sink tightly and raised his head, though his breathing remained erratic.
"...No, I'm just feeling unwell," Sanghyeok stated, using his characteristic calm and aloof tone.
Jihoon felt his focus scatter, disrupted by the bittersweet fragrance seeping from the nape of Sanghyeok's pale neck. His gaze became uncontrollably fixed on the source of the scent.
"Really?" Jihoon asked again, taking a step closer.
Sanghyeok offered no reply. He closed his eyes, took a deep, steadying breath, and then looked directly back at Jihoon. His gaze was cold and composed, yet hidden within it was a desperate urgency to bring this situation to an end.
"I told you I wasn't. But it’s true that I’m not well right now. Just leave me alone, please."
Jihoon was profoundly intrigued by the paradox between Sanghyeok's cold, firm denial and the unmistakable rose scent. The most private secret of the world’s best mid-laner was now revealed right under his nose. Jihoon took another step closer to Sanghyeok.
The pheromone scent seeping from Sanghyeok carried an underlying sweetness like a rose, but it was also intensely sharp and bitter. It was a dense, dry aroma, as if expensive red roses had been thoroughly dried just before crumbling. Though the scent's intensity was low, Jihoon's Dominant Alpha instincts reacted strongly to the foreign fragrance.
"Hyung, you can't possibly walk out there like this. If you'll allow it, I can help you."
Jihoon offered the irresistible proposition to Sanghyeok, feigning concern and masking it as kindness. Sanghyeok knew the perilous cost this proposal would demand of him, but his instinct immediately recognized that he had no other recourse to escape the current crisis.
Jihoon read the implicit consent in Sanghyeok's eyes. He wasted no more time. He took Sanghyeok's shoulder and pushed him into one of the restroom stalls. The confines were so narrow that their bodies were pressed completely together.
Jihoon slid the lock home, and then deliberately released his Alpha pheromones, saturating the stall's interior. The small, sealed space instantly became Jihoon's domain.
Sanghyeok felt the strength drain from his body in the presence of the abruptly concentrated Alpha scent. With every involuntary breath, Jihoon's fragrance permeated deep into his lungs.
The pheromone scent Sanghyeok perceived from Jihoon was strangely captivating. Unlike the initial impression—heavy and cold like tree bark—a startling softness emerged within the highly concentrated fragrance. The soft sandalwood was accompanied by hints of sweetness and subtle smokiness. It was like warm sugar syrup brushed onto well-dried wood. Amidst the scorching heat of his mounting heat cycle, this scent delivered an astonishing sense of stability. Sanghyeok's instinct whispered, alongside a clear warning, that the side of this powerful Alpha was the safest place to be.
Jihoon felt the rose scent surging from Sanghyeok's body become sweeter and more desperate the moment he brought his lips to the Omega's neck. A smile, tinged with satisfaction, curved at Jihoon's mouth.
Sanghyeok offered no resistance. Resistance was futile. Yet, he realized that the very act of exposing his neck and receiving pheromone infusion from his rival was not as terrible as he had anticipated. No, on the contrary, every nerve in his body yearned for the Alpha's touch and welcomed it with a thrilling pleasure.
Jihoon pressed his lips to Sanghyeok's pale nape and sufficiently infused the Alpha pheromones. Following the temporary marking, Sanghyeok tried desperately to maintain a placid, expressionless façade. However, the tips of his ears, flushed red against his white neck, betrayed the quiet turmoil beneath his composure.
"It's done. Hyung, I'll see you next time." Jihoon's words sounded less like a casual farewell and more like a promise that their next encounter, whether on the competitive stage or in a secretive place like this, was inevitable. Sanghyeok did not reply. Driven by the desperate need to escape Jihoon immediately, he practically burst through the stall door. His steps were hurried and frantic as he pushed open the restroom door and emerged into the corridor.
The effect of the temporary marking had momentarily soothed the fierce heat, yet it was not a complete cure, but rather the genesis of a far more potent craving. Even as he walked down the arena corridor, Sanghyeok's consciousness continuously replayed the raw sensations he had just experienced. In his mind, the feeling of the narrow stall, pressed intimately against Jihoon, kept resurfacing. The astonishing stability he had found within Jihoon's powerful pheromones, the sticky, warm pressure of the lips on his neck, and the thrilling submission he felt while being sheltered in the arms of a stronger Alpha—all these sensations were being reassembled within his Omega mind as the sweetest and most dangerous memory. The heat suppressed by the temporary mark could erupt again at any moment, and Sanghyeok's body now starkly remembered the only singular source that could resolve that imminent danger.