Page 57 of Knot Your Fated M.U.S.E.

But an unmated omega in their thirties? They're fodder for places like Ravenscroft. Better to use them for experiments than let them take up space in "proper" society.

I watch Vale's expression darken as he digs deeper into Ravenscroft's systems.

He's thinking about the Parazodiac Nexus, I can tell.

About why our organization was formed in the first place, about the delicate dance we do with the government. They pretend we're their obedient soldiers, and we let them pretend as long as they don't interfere with our real mission.

The contract's simple enough:we maintain loyalty as long as they respect our autonomy.

The moment they try to control us too tightly, they'll learn exactly why we're considered the most dangerous pack in the organization. It's all about balance – they get plausible deniability, we get the freedom to operate our way.

My good ear picks up Vale muttering about the other subunits.

B, C, and D – all capable in their own right, just not quite as practiced at our particular brand of controlled chaos.

Though B and C are certainly giving us a run for our money lately.

B's got their deep cover operations down to an art form, infiltrating pack hierarchies and dismantling them from within. C handles all the cyber warfare, making sure our targets disappear from both physical and digital spaces. They're both climbing the ranks fast, their success rates nearly matching ours.

But it's D that's really stirring things up.

Newest to the ranks but rising faster than any unit in Nexus history. What's really got people talking isn't just their effectiveness – it's their whole approach to pack dynamics.

I can see why the traditionalists hate them.

D's thrown out the old alpha pack playbook, incorporating elements usually associated with omega packs.

Stronger emotional bonds, fluid hierarchy, and collective decision-making rather than pure dominance. By all traditional logic, it should make them weaker.

Instead, they're stable.

Efficient.

Their missions are precise, and their civilian casualty rates are remarkably low. While other units battle constant alpha aggression and dominance challenges, D operates like they've found some secret we've all been missing.

It's making everyone question things – the rigid hierarchies, the assumptions about designation determining capability.

The very foundations we've built our society on.

If alphas can function better by adopting traditional omega traits, what does that say about how we treat omegas in the first place?

We're not exactly traditional ourselves – maybe that's why we're so effective.

We've learned to turn our supposed weaknesses into strengths.

But we still have privileges these omegas don't.

We're still protected by our alpha status, still given chances they'll never get.

In another world, Patient 495 and the others might never have ended up in Ravenscroft. Their differences might have been valued rather than used as excuses to condemn them.

My hand finds my damaged ear again as I think about power and privilege, about how thin the line is between being considered useful and being considered disposable.

The government sees us as their attack dogs, forgetting that even dogs can choose their targets.

Can choose their masters and where their loyalty lies.

They gave us the authority to act.

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