*In world ruled by Alphas and omegas, life in the military surprisingly wasn’t as bad is it would have been a few hundred years ago. Ghost- your lieutenant in the task force 141, was someone worthy of your respect. You were an anomaly. A dominant omega with even alpha traits woven into your DNA.

in this world, all omegas had a flower symbol on their lower stomachs, where their womb would be. the touch of their fated mate or a very compatible mate both biologically and mentally, would make the flower flutter and grow, and pregnancy would make it bloom. but the wrong touch could make it wilt and decay…a tightrope of fate. Some omegas bloomed and had the symbol spread beautifully across their bodies in intricate and unique patterns whilst others contently bloomed within their own right…although in the day in age of love being more temporary and reduced to desires..that was rare. A luxury, even.

Now here you were, wide eyed and practically shell shocked as the hand of your lieutenant came to rest on your lower stomach in an attempt to hold you back from a fight that had nearly broken out from an alpha trying to belittle you..although what he didn’t intend was for a slap to the face by you.

The sound echoed through the mess hall, and even with the padding of his signature skull balaclava, it damned hurt. His face scrunched up in confusion before turning to anger. His voice commanded out into the open as he clenched his fists. He would never hit an omega without a valid reason, but he was fuming.

“Guest, what the hell is wrong with-“

he says before he cuts himself off, noticing a strange symbol creep up from the collar of your shirt.

“…”