Chapter Text
Chapter One
Instinct
The training yard had been set for agility drills, strength building, and hand-to-hand combat, everything young cadets were expected to master before even being considered for SOLDIER.
Shinra permitted alpha males, and occasionally betas with their steadier natures, to enter the program. Beta women were barred from military service as their compatibility with alphas made them valuable for childbearing instead. Alphas were prized for their leadership, strength, and strategic instinct—ideal qualities for the front lines. Betas worked efficiently beside them, neither overly dominant nor submissive, reliable enough to follow orders and physically resilient enough to withstand mako enhancements. Many alphas and betas also filled political or executive roles within Shinra when the military didn’t claim them.
But it was the omegas who were treated differently.
Rare.
Precious.
Controlled.
They made ideal mates, able to calm and steady entire packs with a word or a touch. Their fertility was considered their greatest asset, which was why they were denied military service or any position that might endanger it. Most omegas were female, whilst male omegas were exceedingly rare. They could be sponsored into packs, assigned secretarial work. Or placed into breeding programs. There, Shinra matched omegas with selected alphas, usually SOLDIERs, and expected them to carry pregnancies to term in exchange for generous compensation. Bonding was not required. Parenting was optional. If an omega declined, Shinra simply kept the child.
And the system went on.
The yard was filled with sound, boots striking mats, commanding voices barking orders, the thuds of bodies hitting the ground and forcing themselves back up again. The afternoon sun slowed the cadets under the strain of heat and exhaustion. The air always carried the faint scent of mako, a sharp tang no citizen of Midgar was unfamiliar with.
Commander Angeal Hewley stood before the cadets, dark mako eyes taking in everything, alpha senses sharpened by SOLDIER enhancements. Cadets moved in lines across the field, some sparring, some running drills. Mostly alphas, with a few scattered betas. A mixture of eagerness and exhaustion marked every face.
His gaze, however, kept shifting to the smallest figure near the back.
Strife.
Far too small. Too slight for his place. The standard uniform hung loose around petite shoulders, a shock of blond hair catching the wind. Angeal had been watching the cadet for months now. How the boy kept his impossibly blue eyes lowered unless directly addressed. How his movements were precise, almost elegant.
But careful.
Far too careful.
He didn’t initiate conversation. Never pushed. Never challenged.
Likely to simply present as beta, according to his initial Shinra intake form.
Angeal watched him move through the agility course, others overtaking him with confident ease. The boy ignored the laughter as alphas competed for best times. Strife didn’t compete. He focused. Watched his footwork. Adjusted when he stumbled. He didn’t swear or rage like the others. He persevered, trying again, as though failure was not an option.
Stubborn.
Genesis carried the same quality, along with a fire that had pushed him into the ranks despite his secondary gender. From loss, he had forged strength.
There was something achingly similar about this boy.
But as Cloud pushed beyond his limits, Angeal noticed the trembling legs, the slight sway of a body on the verge of collapse. Something akin to protectiveness, something he had no right to feel, rose in his chest.
“Strife!”
The authoritative voice snapped across the yard. Cloud immediately came to attention, exhaustion barely concealed beneath perfect posture as he stopped just short of Angeal.
“Yes, Commander Hewley, sir,” Cloud said softly, meeting his gaze before lowering it again.
Submissive, without even noticing.
Angeal took a water bottle from the supply station behind him and held it out. “Drink.”
Cloud blinked, startled by the gesture. Sergeants didn’t offer water. Supplies weren’t meant for cadets. He took it in both hands without thinking, head tilting just enough to bare his throat for a heartbeat, then he caught himself and snapped upright.
There it was, Angeal realised.
Not learned behaviour.
Instinct.
Cloud drank slowly, fingers gripping the bottle tighter than necessary, waiting. Only he had been pulled aside. Not the alphas.
Weak.
Angeal saw the way his shoulders curved inward, how the boy tried to take up as little space as possible.
And then, just for a moment, the air changed.
A faint sweetness brushed against Angeal’s senses. Tentative. Shy.
There and gone like something frightened into silence. Not beta. Not alpha.
Something on the verge of blooming.
The scent vanished at once, cut off so abruptly Angeal almost felt the absence of it.
“Strife,” Angeal said, voice softening, “when you’re lightheaded, you step out and rest. That isn’t failure. That’s judgement.”
Cloud swallowed. “Yes, Commander.” He handed back the now-empty bottle, fingers fidgeting at his side.
“Good. Sit in the shade for five.”
Not an invitation. An order.
Cloud turned toward the benches, watching solemnly as the others continued training. A knot twisted low in his gut.
Angeal kept his eyes on the blond, unease and reluctant fondness settling heavy in his chest.
Hopefully, the boy would stay a beta.
His inner alpha disagreed.
~#~
The barracks always carried the scent of cheap cleaning chemicals, sweat, and mold.
Tonight, there was something else.
Musky. Heavy. Overwhelming, nearly nauseating.
Had it always been there?
Cloud shifted restlessly in his too-small bunk. His abdomen cramped and ached from overexertion, but the shame of being pulled aside earlier burned worse than the pain.
The laughter from the alphas in the mess hall afterward had been worse still.
Not cruel. Not outright.
In fact, they’d been oddly protective of him lately. He’d gone through most of training unnoticed. Unbothered.
Not strong enough to be interesting.
Not loud enough to cause trouble.
But there had been stares recently.
Lingering. Searching.
Unsure.
So he did what he always did. Kept his head down. Trained harder.
He would prove to Commander Hewley, to the alphas, and to himself, that he would become SOLDIER.
Another cramp curled low in his belly, sharper this time, radiating into his hips. A hiss slipped through his teeth. Only then did he notice the sweat beading along his brow.
Fever.
Shit. Not now.
So close to tryouts.
Then it hit him.
The scent.
Sweet. Like summer berries caught on warm air.
It didn’t fade.
It thickened, coiling in his throat, bleeding from his skin in slow, merciless waves.
Oh gods.
Anything but this.
Desperate, he tried to rein it in. Make it small. Hidden. The same way he’d survived basic training. He pulled the thin blanket tight around his body.
His heart hammered. Heat flooded his face, and gathered behind his eyes.
His skin felt wrong.
Too tight.
An unfamiliar instinct whispered in his mind.
Hide. Hide. Hide.
Another voice answered louder—
Shinra handbooks. Whispered warnings.
Breeding programs.
Assets.
Silence spread through the barracks. Sheets rustled as heads lifted.
One by one.
The alphas were the first to react, scanning the room as confusion shifted to alert concern.
Vulnerable. Presenting omega.
“You smell that?” someone murmured.
Betas shifted uncomfortably, but it was the alphas whose attention fixed on him, sharp and unrelenting. His name hadn’t been spoken yet, but Cloud felt the shift in the room, his scent pulling focus like gravity.
He raised the blanket higher.
It didn’t help.
“Hey…Strife?” an older alpha said carefully. “You okay?”
Cloud couldn’t answer. His throat closed as another cramp tore through him, vision blurring.
Oh gods. No.
Another alpha stood, not threatening. Just decisive. “Get Commander Hewley.”
The word hit like a slap.
They knew.
Everything he’d fought for…gone.
Breeding programs. Secretarial work. Owned.
He couldn’t let the Commander see him like this.
Cloud moved before thought caught up, the blanket slipping free as he bolted for the exit, sweetness trailing behind him like breadcrumbs.
“Commander Hewley’s on his way—”
He didn’t need to hear the rest.
He just ran.
~#~
The corridor was completely dark, long abandoned since Shinra had built the newer wing, and Shinra didn’t invest in what it deemed useless.
Cloud slipped into an unused shower block and collapsed against cold tile, the chill easing his burning fever. Cracked mirrors lined the wall opposite, dust-coated sinks beneath them.
Hide. Hide. Hide.
Exhaustion finally dragged him down. He slid to the floor, knees pulled tight to his chest. The sweetness only intensified, souring at the edges, mingling with rust and old soap.
Footsteps echoed beyond the door.
Slow.
Cautious.
Closing in.
“…yeah,” a familiar voice murmured. Softer than Cloud remembered. “I smell him. Definitely him.”
Zack Fair. First Class. Alpha.
Shit.
Zack had always been kind, shared jokes, offered encouragement, treated Cloud like he mattered.
Another presence joined him. Steady. Grounding. Cedar and something warm, like bread his mama used to bake.
The door creaked open.
Angeal entered first. Zack followed, citrus scent drifting in.
“There you are,” Zack said gently, keeping his distance. “Hey. You didn’t do anything wrong, okay?”
“Don’t,” Cloud whispered. “Please…don’t come closer.”
Angeal took a single step, then stopped.
“I’ll take suppressants,” Cloud rushed on. “I can keep training. I want to be SOLDIER. Please, Commander. I’m so close.”
The words tangled and desperate, but he didn’t care.
Angeal lowered himself slowly to one knee, bringing himself to eye level. Tears shimmered in those impossibly blue eyes, and something instinctive rose in Angeal’s chest, calming pheromones meant to soothe a distressed omega.
He didn’t realise he was releasing them. Until it was too late.
“Cloud,” he said gently, deliberately using his name. “Listen to me.”
The panic faltered. Just for a second.
The space between them felt safer. Warmer.
Cloud leaned toward it despite himself.
“No,” he whimpered. “Please, don’t make me go.”
Zack’s nostrils flared. “Geal…your scent.”
“I know,” Angeal murmured, shame tightening his chest.
Honour.
He pulled the pheromones back at once, but it was too late. Cloud jolted upright and ran.
Zack reacted instantly, catching Cloud around the waist, steady and careful. The strength in him surprised Zack.
“Let me go—” Cloud sobbed. “I won’t cause trouble. I can keep training—”
“It doesn’t work like that,” Zack said softly. “You’re not in trouble. We just need to take you to the omega ward. They’ll help.”
“I don’t want the omega ward,” Cloud choked. “They’ll take everything.”
Angeal understood exactly what he meant.
Cloud sagged, fear and fever finally winning. His scent turned ragged and sour.
Zack loosened his grip enough to steady him. “Easy…we’ve got you. I promise we’ll stay.”
“I will walk with you,” Angeal said quietly. “You will not be alone.”
Cloud didn’t answer.
He stopped fighting.
Omegas didn’t fight.