Young Eric sat on a kitchen chair, swinging his legs slightly as he stared at the bowl of freshly cooked breakfast. The smell of eggs and toast filled the room, making him smile. His mother, a gentle yet firm woman, patted his shoulder.
"Eat first, honey. I made this just for you."
Eric looked up at her with bright eyes, feeling the warmth of a love that couldn't be measured. From his mother, he learned that the world could be sweet, as long as there was care and tenderness.
After breakfast, his father appeared in the living room. A tall, sturdy man with a serious gaze, every movement purposeful.
"Come on, let's practice a little," his father said, leading Eric to the backyard. They went through light exercises, lifting techniques, and ways to stay balanced when falling. Eric was small, but every instruction shaped his courage.
"It's okay to fall, son. Get up and try again," his father said. These weren't just drills—they taught him that strength came from effort and the courage to face failure.
Amid laughter and training, Eric often glanced at his mother standing nearby, smiling and waving. Her presence brought calm, while his father taught him to be strong. The combination of a firm father and gentle mother made Eric feel safe and loved. He knew that no matter what happened, there was a place to take refuge and someone to encourage his growth.
Eric's childhood days were filled with moments like these. Warm breakfasts in the morning, exercise and play in the yard in the afternoon, reading on his mother's lap in the evening. Whenever he fell or failed, his father would correct him firmly, and his mother would gently wipe away his tears. From this, Eric learned balance—between bravery and gentleness, strength and love.
But that happiness didn't last. One day, a sudden fire broke out in their home. Young Eric hid in a corner, eyelashes wet with tears. Smoke thickened the house, screams and shattering glass echoing around him. He tried to keep calm, but every sound seemed to scream directly into his ears.
In the chaos, his mother, Maya, appeared, panicked yet determined. She scooped Eric into a tight embrace, pressing his small body close to protect him from the sparks. Maya's voice echoed in his ears:
"Don't be afraid, Eric… follow me, follow me."
Her hands were warm, but her teary eyes revealed the fear she tried to hide.
His father stood nearby, attempting to control the situation while keeping his own panic in check.
"Quick, Eric… we need to get out now!" he shouted, voice firm but trembling. Eric gripped both his parents' hands, feeling each tense second and the heat from the approaching flames.
In a moment that felt endless, the fire consumed everything around them. Maya leaned to shield Eric, but a large spark separated them briefly. Eric screamed, but his voice was drowned out by the roaring fire. He felt his mother's hand weaken for a moment before disappearing from sight.
His father tried to pull him toward the door, but thick smoke and choking heat made him stumble. Eric felt his heart racing, terror mingling with loss. All he could cling to were the remaining memories—his mother and father, slowly drifting away.
When the dust and smoke finally cleared, young Eric sat alone outside the burned house. The night wind brushed his face, dampening cheeks still warm from tears. Only memories of Maya and his father remained, stored deep in his heart—bitter, frightening, yet full of the love he had once known.
He bowed his head, clutching his small hands, feeling a loss too deep for words. Every second of that day, every swirl of smoke, every scream—etched into him, shaping the Eric Desmond who would grow into an eight-year-old with a heart both haunted and resilient.
---
Later, Jay sat in a hospital chair as the doctor reviewed charts and medical equipment. He looked uneasy, fidgeting with his sleeves. After noticing that others had commented on a faint Omega scent from him, Jay decided to take another ABO test. Liam, Noah, and Eric were all busy elsewhere, so he was only accompanied by the doctor and assistants waiting for instructions.
"Jay," the doctor said softly but seriously, "what happened to you today… is quite unusual." He turned on a desk lamp, studying the charts showing Jay's hormone levels.
"You… have undergone a drastic hormonal shift. According to our data, you should be a Beta, but your system… has triggered Omega characteristics suddenly."
Jay frowned.
"Omega? I…?"
The doctor nodded slowly.
"Yes. This isn't something we commonly see. In theory, your body has produced pheromones and hormones similar to a mature Omega. The exact cause isn't fully understood yet, but genetic factors and physical stress could have triggered this change."
Jay sat still in the examination chair, hands gripping the sides tightly, knuckles white. The water the doctor offered remained untouched. His breathing was short and uneven, eyes fixed on the floor.
"What… if I'm an Omega… I can't… I can't do this…" he whispered, almost to himself. The doctor continued attending to other tasks.
He shook his head slightly, chest tightening.
"I don't want Liam or Noah to know… if they find out, I'm done. They wouldn't let me go on this mission."
He took a deep breath, but confusion and panic only grew.
---
Note:
In the ABO world, Alphas, Omegas, and Betas can shift due to natural hormonal changes or imbalances, affecting pheromones, emotions, and behavior, potentially altering their ABO identity temporarily or permanently.