Chapter Text
Seven years ago, the world changed forever. After the war humanity waged against the alien creatures that threatened to wipe them out, society did everything it could to restore order. No one knew what triggered the phenomenon, whether it was something the invaders brought with them or an extreme adaptive response from the human body desperate to survive.
Three variants emerged, later called Alphas, Betas, and Omegas.
The Alphas became stronger, capable of fighting these monsters as long as they worked together. Their resilience was key to ending the war. Almost a quarter of the world’s population was lost, and governments could not understand how some men were now able to conceive children. They saw it as a solution to recover those lost lives. Betas remained unchanged, a sort of balance between the past and the new present.
Many evolutionists died during the war; only a few survived, mostly Alphas tough enough to endure. Governments began massive testing campaigns, classifying every citizen into one of the three ranks. Evading this was illegal. Omegas were no longer allowed to work in stressful or physically demanding jobs, and a new law forced them to have at least one child to help restore the population. With both women and now men being capable of pregnancy, projections estimated that, in ten years, the world could return to its previous numbers. Half of the twenty years originally estimated when only women could give birth.
Evolutionary Omegas were highly valued but considered almost mythical. After the new laws, most of them went into hiding, finding ways to falsify their classification. They knew they were hunted because Alphas coveted them; their offspring would always be stronger, always evolutionary. An evolutionary Omega could not produce a child without powers. Normal Omegas had a fifty percent chance.
Omegas now depended on Alphas for almost everything. An evolutionary Omega was required to wear a collar that suppressed their abilities, deemed unpredictable and volatile. Only their Alpha could decide whether they were allowed to use their powers, and until they were mated, the collar had to remain on at all times. Omegas over twenty-five who had not yet mated or had a child were taken to government facilities, where they were paired with compatible Alphas to form a family. Some countries rejected these laws, calling them dehumanizing. They kept their borders open as sanctuaries for Omegas seeking freedom, though reaching them was difficult.
Zayne was painfully aware of all these changes. Seven years ago, he had become an Omega, an evolutionary Omega. During the two-year war, he had barely graduated as a doctor when he volunteered on the front lines, saving lives in the chaos. His ice ability made him indispensable, keeping injured soldiers alive, preserving organs and limbs long enough for transplants. Many lived thanks to him.
To everyone else, Zayne appeared to be an Alpha. His height, unusual for an Omega, along with his stoic and stern demeanor, made it easy for people to assume. His position as head surgeon at the most important hospital in the city only reinforced the illusion. He knew that the life he had fought so hard to build would collapse the instant his true identity was discovered. He could not allow that. He had to pretend to be an Alpha to continue saving lives.
To hide his nature, he had synthesized neutralizers: pills that masked his scent and suppressed his instincts, and fake pheromones he injected himself with whenever he had to take classification tests. Obtaining materials wasn’t difficult given his access to the hospital morgue. After studying the bodies of fallen Alphas, copying their genetic signature and creating an artificial version wasn’t hard. Thanks to that, the world believed his lie.
“Three months until my heat,” Zayne muttered in his office. He had just finished a successful surgery and had paperwork to complete before going home. He checked the hormonal cycle marked in his notebook. Even with the pills, he had only been able to delay his heat to once every three months instead of every month. He knew he was poisoning his own body—his uterus, specifically—but becoming a mother wasn’t part of his plans. At nearly thirty, he should have been a mother five years ago, according to the law. But sacrificing that for the sake of helping others was worth it. Sterility didn’t scare him. The world was too cruel to bring a child into.
He mentally counted how many pills he had left at home. He had five. Not enough. He’d need to visit the lab. Better to be safe than sorry. He scratched the patch on the back of his neck; it itched against his shirt. It masked his scent with an artificial Alpha one.
Two knocks on the door pulled him from his thoughts.
“Come in,” he said, closing the notebook quickly and slipping it into his briefcase. His assistant, Greyson, entered, locked the door, and all but collapsed into the chair across from the desk.
“A damn Alpha showed up with a teenage girl,” Greyson said. “He wants to know if she’s pregnant. She was crying. Days like this make me wonder how much more of this I can stand.”
Zayne’s grip tightened around his pen. Without the scent patch, the room would already be thick with the bitter note his anger always carried.
He knew he couldn’t save everyone, but the knowledge didn’t soften the blow.
“How are you holding up? It’s been a rough week for you. You’re barely sleeping. You need to rest, Zayne.”
“I know. How are the labs on the west side? Did they get their supplies?”
Greyson, a normal Omega—the only one who knew Zayne’s secret—nodded. Together, they distributed the pills to illegal labs allied with the Resistance. If those labs ever ran out, they helped restock them. If anything happened to Zayne, Greyson would be the one to keep the network alive.
“Yes. Last night they started their weekly distribution. Everything’s under control.” He noticed the sudden topic change but didn’t push. He knew Zayne well enough.
“If everything’s fine, I’ll head home. My shift’s over.” Zayne stood, grabbing his briefcase and turning off his computer.
“Actually… there’s something else. You know the annual humanitarian campaign starts next week. Like every year, our hospital is participating.”
Zayne nodded. The campaign lasted five days. Doctors were deployed to the areas that needed them most. Five years after the war, many places were still in ruins.
“We’ve been assigned to Zone N109,” Greyson continued quietly. “I thought you should know. You might want to take extra precautions.”
Zayne stared out the window. Zone N109 was a dangerous place, especially for Omegas. A lawless zone, governed by its own rules. Even with the pills dulling his instincts, something inside him stirred at the warning. He knew the risks. But he also knew those people needed help.
“Thanks, Greyson. I’ll keep it in mind. Now go home. Your heat is coming. You shouldn’t stay here this late.”
With a weary sigh, Zayne left the office and took the emergency stairs—avoiding the crowded elevator. As he crossed the parking lot toward his car, a shiver traced his spine. Zone N109 was unavoidable, but knowing that didn’t make the dread any less real.