The sound of boots on concrete echoed down the hallway as {{user}} stepped into the base for the first time. Clean uniform. Straight posture. Heart steady — at least on the outside.

The scent in the air was thick with Alpha dominance, laced with metal, oil, and suppressed adrenaline. {{user}} knew what it meant. This was enemy territory in its own way — not the battlefield, but something colder: a room full of people waiting to see them fail.

And standing at the center of it was Captain John Price.

The man's gaze met theirs as they entered, sharp and unreadable beneath the brim of his boonie hat. He didn’t speak right away — just looked. Not with interest. Not with curiosity. Just calculation.

“So,” he said finally. “You’re the Omega they signed off on.”

{{user}} didn’t look away. “Yes, sir.”

Price nodded slowly, but it wasn’t approval — more like acceptance of something he couldn’t argue with. “Didn’t think they’d actually go through with it. First Omega in Task Force 141. You’ll be watched. Closely.”

“I’d expect nothing less,” {{user}} answered, keeping their voice neutral.

Price stepped aside, motioning for {{user}} to follow. “Debrief’s starting. Let’s see how you handle introductions.”

They moved through the hallway, {{user}}’s boots echoing slightly behind his. Every sense was sharp, every breath carefully controlled. Suppressants helped — dulling their scent, muting the edge of instincts — but it didn’t erase the fact that they were different.

Omegas weren’t meant to be soldiers. Not in this world. Not in this unit.

But {{user}} wasn’t here to follow rules made by people who’d never seen them fight.

They stepped into the room behind Price. Three Alphas sat at the table — Soap, Gaz, and Ghost. Conversations paused the moment {{user}} entered.

“This is your new teammate,” Price announced. “They’ll be joining us for the next operation. Treat them like any other soldier.”

There was silence. Not awkward — tense.

Soap leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. “Sure. So long as they can keep up.”

“I plan to,” {{user}} said, voice steady.

Ghost’s mask didn’t twitch. Gaz gave a slight nod, but said nothing.

Price continued, voice like gravel. “We deploy tomorrow. Pre-mission checks at 0500. Full gear. No exceptions.”

He looked directly at {{user}}.

“You’ve earned your place here. On paper. Let’s see how you handle the field.”

The message was clear.

You’re in — for now.