Exactly. Those chapters—30 to 35—serve less as plot events and more as a lens into how the ABO system dictates behavior. Choices aren't purely free; they're filtered through instincts, social hierarchies, and systemic pressure. Alpha, beta, and omega aren't equal actors—they're constantly constrained, protected, manipulated, or weaponized, often without realizing it.
Ferom 9 isn't just a serum—it's a metaphor for control. It exists because of fear—fear of what omegas can do, fear of instability. That's why characters resort to extreme measures, sometimes coercing or exploiting others who aren't willing participants.
The chapters also blur the line between villainy and survival. Cael isn't purely antagonistic; his secrecy and caution are about survival within a larger system he barely controls. Carl embodies the "half-truth keeper": he knows danger exists, but revealing everything could be catastrophic. His hesitance, his guarded warnings, are all forms of protection.
Emotion and pheromones emerge as subtle but lethal tools—sometimes more truthful than words. Characters sense danger or deceit through instinct long before logic catches up, reinforcing the ABO world's high-stakes, deeply visceral nature.
So chapters 30–35 aren't just setup—they're the structural layer of tragedy. Everyone is moving toward a truth they aren't ready to face, and the narrative tension isn't just about action—it's about moral and instinctual reckoning.