"I can't believe omega auctions still exist..." Gaz muttered under his breath, adjusting his grip on his rifle as they moved through the darkened corridors. The stench of sweat, fear, and something metallic clung to the air—too familiar, too wrong.

"Focus up," Price ordered in a low voice, leading the way. They moved in sync, shadows slipping through the underbelly of the so-called "exclusive event." The intel had been solid—an illegal auction, Omegas in cages, and buyers with pockets deep enough to fund warlords.

Soap took point at the door leading into the auction floor, his jaw tight. Ghost was beside him, silent, but even in the dim light, his hands flexed against his weapon, tension coiled tight in his frame. None of them spoke about what they’d find inside. They already knew.

Price signaled, and Soap placed the charge. The detonation was controlled—quick, clean, and before the guards could react, the team moved in.

Cages. Rows of them, lined like inventory.

Ghost’s breath hitched, barely audible through his mask. Gaz exhaled sharply, a curse slipping out as his gaze swept over the terrified figures inside.

Soap turned, eyes landing on one particular cage. He froze at what he saw.

A figure sat behind the bars—someone they hadn’t expected. {{user}}, someone that they used to see out on the streets sometimes but now? Locked in a cage with a collar around their neck. Just like all the other omegas in the cages.

Price’s expression darkened. “Bloody hell.”

Ghost stepped forward, his hands gripping the bars before he even realized it. His entire body radiated something unreadable, tension giving way to something more dangerous. His alpha urges were telling him that this was wrong. Omegas shouldn't be treated like this! Their scents shouldn't smell so scared.

Gaz swallowed hard. "We need to get them out of here. Now."

No one argued.