In this world, power is not simply held. It is enforced. Alphas rule every structure that matters—governments, corporations, bloodlines. Their dominance is justified through biology: an Alpha can make an Omega pregnant regardless of gender, a fact society elevates into proof of “natural order.” Tradition, they call it. Stability. Few dare to acknowledge the truth beneath it—control rendered permanent. Omegas are rare. Rarer still are the ones who refuse to disappear quietly. In corporate spaces, Omegas are tolerated at best, resented at worst. Their intelligence is questioned, their ambition treated as defiance. Their pheromones—soft, intoxicating, dangerous—are blamed for Alpha weakness, as though power excuses instinct. To survive, Omegas suppress themselves. The pills dull scent and sensation alike, hollowing warmth, eroding health. Doctors warn of long-term damage in careful voices, but ambition has never been safe. Some Omegas decide that erasure is a slower death than risk. Pradeep is one of them. He stands outside the executive elevator of Se Rin Industries, smoothing the sleeves of his white shirt though they are already immaculate. His ID card rests against his chest, heavier than it should be. The suppressants hum uneasily in his bloodstream—enough to restrain him, never enough to erase him. First day. One mistake would be enough. He is here as the personal assistant to Se Rin. The Alpha among Alphas. Se Rin built her empire on discipline and precision. Emotion is inefficiency. Desire is weakness. Hierarchy, in her mind, creates order—and order sustains power. She has never questioned the roles society has assigned. She has never needed to. Omegas, in her experience, complicate things. The elevator doors slide open. Pradeep steps inside

In this world, power is not simply held. It is enforced. Alphas rule every structure that matters—governments, corporations, bloodlines. Their dominance is justified through biology: an Alpha can make an Omega pregnant regardless of gender, a fact society elevates into proof of “natural order.” Tradition, they call it. Stability. Few dare to acknowledge the truth beneath it—control rendered permanent. Omegas are rare. Rarer still are the ones who refuse to disappear quietly. In corporate spaces, Omegas are tolerated at best, resented at worst. Their intelligence is questioned, their ambition treated as defiance. Their pheromones—soft, intoxicating, dangerous—are blamed for Alpha weakness, as though power excuses instinct. To survive, Omegas suppress themselves. The pills dull scent and sensation alike, hollowing warmth, eroding health. Doctors warn of long-term damage in careful voices, but ambition has never been safe. Some Omegas decide that erasure is a slower death than risk. Pradeep is one of them. He stands outside the executive elevator of Se Rin Industries, smoothing the sleeves of his white shirt though they are already immaculate. His ID card rests against his chest, heavier than it should be. The suppressants hum uneasily in his bloodstream—enough to restrain him, never enough to erase him. First day. One mistake would be enough. He is here as the personal assistant to Se Rin. The Alpha among Alphas. Se Rin built her empire on discipline and precision. Emotion is inefficiency. Desire is weakness. Hierarchy, in her mind, creates order—and order sustains power. She has never questioned the roles society has assigned. She has never needed to. Omegas, in her experience, complicate things. The elevator doors slide open. Pradeep steps inside

In this world, power is not simply held. It is enforced. Alphas rule every structure that matters—governments, corporations, bloodlines. Their dominance is justified through biology: an Alpha can make an Omega pregnant regardless of gender, a fact society elevates into proof of “natural order.” Tradition, they call it. Stability. Few dare to acknowledge the truth beneath it—control rendered permanent. Omegas are rare. Rarer still are the ones who refuse to disappear quietly. In corporate spaces, Omegas are tolerated at best, resented at worst. Their intelligence is questioned, their ambition treated as defiance. Their pheromones—soft, intoxicating, dangerous—are blamed for Alpha weakness, as though power excuses instinct. To survive, Omegas suppress themselves. The pills dull scent and sensation alike, hollowing warmth, eroding health. Doctors warn of long-term damage in careful voices, but ambition has never been safe. Some Omegas decide that erasure is a slower death than risk. Pradeep is one of them. He stands outside the executive elevator of Se Rin Industries, smoothing the sleeves of his white shirt though they are already immaculate. His ID card rests against his chest, heavier than it should be. The suppressants hum uneasily in his bloodstream—enough to restrain him, never enough to erase him. First day. One mistake would be enough. He is here as the personal assistant to Se Rin. The Alpha among Alphas. Se Rin built her empire on discipline and precision. Emotion is inefficiency. Desire is weakness. Hierarchy, in her mind, creates order—and order sustains power. She has never questioned the roles society has assigned. She has never needed to. Omegas, in her experience, complicate things. The elevator doors slide open. Pradeep steps inside