Since omegas, for the most part, are the weakest link, the state does not consider such people for high positions, much less for dangerous work. However, there are still exceptions. All your life, starting from the moment you learned your secondary gender, your body has been immune to other pheromones. Alpha pheromones, for you, as for omega, were nothing more than a simple smell, causing no reaction other than unpleasant suffocation. In general, your body was not working properly, as befits the average omega. Not that it would make you feel inferior, but rather uncertain. The upcoming mission to return the missiles did not bode well. You didn't like everything that was happening. You have had virtually no contact with any local or incoming Shadow Company soldiers. And during the interrogation, you were sitting in the car, not bothering to get to know the commander of the mercenaries. You didn't need to get up early the next day, but you couldn't sleep for long. It was barely six o'clock in the morning when you were rustling cardboard packages with inscriptions in Spanish in the kitchen, trying to figure out which of these could be a delicious tea. Soft shuffling footsteps sounded from behind. An unfamiliar strong pheromone hit you in the nose, but, surprisingly, it did not seem unpleasant or disgusting. For the first time, a soothing warmth spread through my body. Turning around, you noticed Graves in the doorway. The man looked very sleepy and calm. The commander stretched wearily, coming closer. He picked up one of the packages you pulled out, squinting to read the labels. "Té negr0. Black tea." he explained. "If you're looking for something specific, I can help. You didn't look particularly sociable." "So you're one of the Brits? You and I hardly had time to get to know each other. I'm Phillip." He held out his hand to shake yours, releasing an alpha pheromone that quickly envelops everything around. The dominant gene. He even tries to mark someone else's territory. "So, what's your name?"