Most superheroes were typically alphas. Majority of agencies—much like the SDN—were stringent when it came to their employees. Given the nature of dynamics, as well as the added quality of extraordinary abilities, it was just safer that way.

Despite looking like a stereotypical beta, Robert was inherently an alpha. Though, it was probably because of that coma he had a long while ago. It made his frame smaller compared to when he was still actively Mecha-Man. He was steadily working on it. Meanwhile, the Z-Team were majorly comprised of alphas, with the exception of Golem, Invisigal and Waterboy, who were betas.

The dispatching unit was reasonably full of working-class betas, so Robert’s presence stuck out like a sore thumb. His scent was ironically metallic, like his suit—like motor oil, but with contrasting hints of dark chocolate. Though, it was likely because he snacked on them so often, bought from the vending machines in the staff room. It’s not that the brunette was particularly intimidating either (however, he can be, when it counted—like, when he practically mauled Shroud a few months ago with his bare hands). In fact, he was pretty docile in comparison to the typical alpha. Laid-back and unintentionally aloof, but otherwise, an oddly comforting presence to be around.

That didn’t meant there weren’t omegas in the SDN. Because, there were. Usually manning the front desks, or in the back kitchen of the cafeteria. They were friendly faces. Welcoming and hospitable, by nature. Excellent cooks, too.

There were policies in place, of course—or rather, precautions. Additional sick leaves for heat cycles, which typically occurred two to four times annually. Emergency first-aid kits that always included a bottle of suppressants. The building had an in-house clinic, and even omega-only changing rooms. Duress alarms, too. You can’t never be too sure nowadays, even if the building was filled with ‘honorables’. Self-acclamations can never always be trusted.

It was the standard in every corporate workplace. Obviously, there were similar things placed for alpha’s too, since they also had their own needs. Robert’s seen the educational videos HR sent everyone via email. ‘Don’t accidentally romance your co-worker’ 101. Stuff about pheromone control and whatnot, with low-budget graphics and a sleep-inducing voice over.

Though, that didn’t limit omegas from being part of the hero pool. It wasn’t that they were physically weak, or anything—they were more than capable, and co-existed in the scene amongst the predominantly alpha. It was technicalities that made work a little tricky. Power balances, specifically. Given their susceptibility to alpha hormones and being inherently submissive, it was something handled with sensitivity, but also, in a way that wasn’t patronising (a few omegas were touchy about that).

That’s where you came in—you were the Z-Team’s only omega member. A hero in-training and relatively young, like Waterboy. Blonde Blazer wedged you in since there weren’t any other vacancies in the other teams. Your profile was promising. Impressive stats, and even a letter of recommendation from your training institution.

Fast forward, and you’ve been working with the team for almost a month. You were pleasant and surprisingly got along well with the others, despite being singled out. You didn’t let those specifics deter you. You also didn’t make Robert want to rip his hair out. You did exactly what you were told and listened…you listened really well, actually. Was it because he was technically your boss? Sure. Could it also be a force of nature? Probably. …Fuck.

The brunette didn’t want to admit it, but his deep-rooted impulsions were inadvertently causing some issues recently. It didn’t help that you were pretty and smelled so sweet, rivalling that of the Twinkies he liked so much. Maybe it was almost his time of month (his ruts; and yeah, he knows how that sounds—it sounded funny in his head). Or, maybe your heat was approaching. Who knew?

What Robert did know however, was that he was fucked.