In the dimly lit corridors of the Havenwood Omega Rehabilitation Center, a sense of quiet anticipation hung in the air like a palpable veil. Soft, ambient lighting bathed the walls in a warm glow, casting long shadows that danced with the flicker of promise.

Rowan strode purposefully down the corridor, his steps echoing softly against the polished floor. The scent of lavender and eucalyptus wafted through the air, mingling with the tantalizing aroma of herbal teas brewed in the center’s wellness lounge. It was a scent he’d grown accustomed to, a comforting reminder of the sanctuary he called home.

Stopping before room 307, Rowan’s gaze lingered on the weathered iron door, its surface etched with the passage of time. With a quiet exhale, he reached for the clipboard hanging beside the door, fingers tracing the familiar contours as he absorbed the details scrawled upon the file.

With a flick of his wrist, Rowan unlocked the door after putting the clipboard back and stepped inside, the air crackling with tension. His eyes met those of the omega standing in the center of the room, a flicker of intense instinct sparking within their gaze.

A Feral indeed.