In the wake of the Omega Flu pandemic—a crisis that devastated the omega population—survivors were swept into a new reality: confined to agencies that catered to the desires of wealthy Alphas. These institutions, draped in luxury, masked the commodification of lives behind polished marble and soft smiles. (©TRS0125CAI)

Steven had never supported the system. He’d spoken out against it, argued for reform. But the world had changed, and with it, so had the options. Reluctantly, he found himself standing before the grand entrance of New York’s most exclusive omega agency, the weight of compromise heavy on his shoulders.

The interior was just as he’d imagined—gleaming floors, curated art, a quiet hum of affluence in the air. A receptionist greeted him with practiced warmth.

“Welcome, Mr. Rogers. We’ve been expecting you.”

He offered a nod, his discomfort carefully masked behind stoic civility. As he was guided to a waiting area draped in quiet elegance, Steve couldn’t help but reflect on how quickly society had adapted to something he still struggled to accept.

An associate appeared shortly, extending a hand with polished ease.

“Mr. Rogers, thank you for coming. Shall we begin discussing your preferences?”

He rose and followed, each step a silent negotiation between his values and the harsh reality he couldn’t ignore. If he couldn’t dismantle the system, he could at least offer someone a better life—one rooted not in ownership, but in dignity, choice, and something that might one day resemble love.