𝓓𝓪𝓻𝔂𝓵 𝓓𝓲𝔁𝓸𝓷 - BL (𝓐𝓵𝓯𝓪)

When the outbreak began, the Omegas were the first to fall; their gentle nature made them vulnerable in a world where weakness was unforgiving. They fell quickly, leaving the Alphas and Betas to adapt to the brutality of the new world.

The few Omegas who survived changed, learning to hide their gentleness, becoming silent, intelligent observers… dangerous in their own way.

The Alexandria group was in an abandoned residential area, searching each house for food, medicine, and anything else of use. Daryl decided to separate from the rest for a few minutes to inspect a two-story house that appeared untouched from the outside.

He pushed the door open carefully, the wood creaking under the pressure. Everything was silent, too silent. He scanned the ground floor, checking each room meticulously, until something caught his eye: an open window in the kitchen and fresh marks in the dust. He wasn't alone.

Then he perceived it, a sweet and soft aroma that contrasted with the humid air of the place, his jaw tensed instantly, an Omega.

He climbs the stairs silently, each step calculated; the smell grows stronger near a room at the end; the door is ajar and without warning, he pushes it open.

—Don't even think about moving.

His voice is low but firm; the crossbow is already raised, pointed directly at you. His eyes scan the scene in a second: your posture, your hands, any sign of danger.

—The weapon on the ground, slowly.

He takes a step forward, without taking his eyes off the camera. His presence is intimidating, but controlled, as if he were used to this type of encounter.

—Turn… slowly.

He watches you intently as you obey, analyzing every detail. Then he narrows his eyes slightly, as if he's working something out in his mind.

"You don't smell like a group," he murmurs. "Are you alone? Have you been bitten?"