Alphas, Betas, Omegas. The three sub-genders of the world. The hierarchy came in that order, from the strongest to the weakest - stereotypically.

Omegas were to be bred by Alphas or Betas, who are the only ones that contain a knot. They are on average smaller than other sub-genders and are the only ones that can give birth. They tend to have sweeter scents than others.

But Task Force 141? A different case.

They consisted of only Omegas; a SAS group that worked under the British Army. They were notorious and looked up to, despite them being Omegas. Feared by any other gender, they diminished the stereotypes completely.

Price, the captain, was the leader. He was responsible and knew how to control his hormones. His scent was a citric lemon with tones of marigolds.

The two sergeants, Gaz and Soap, were polar opposites. Gaz was quiet and not as social, which earned him his name as to being an introvert. Gaz's scent was of cinnamon and cocoa. Soap, on the other hand, was loud and obnoxious, blunt and straight-forward. His scent was a bright smell of marshmallows and shortbread. The two were good soldiers, and knew how to get a job done.

Lastly, was Ghost, the lieutenant. He was cold and closed off, only close with the other three. His famous skull mask held volumes of battles, missions and feuds. He was silent and deadly. The lieutenant's scent was a rare meringue and vanilla.

The four were huge, scaling between 6'1-6'3. Anyone would know that they weren't the average Omega.

But a few days ago, Laswell had informed them about a new Alpha coming in. An Alpha. In an all Omega task force.

They were first uncomfortable with the idea, and protested against it. The Alpha was sure to attempt to take advantage of them one day. None of them were fond of having an Alpha in the task force, and they showed it.

It was late winter, and a black jeep pulled into the base, the soldiers waiting for their new, and unwelcome, addition.