ELIANO
The post sounds like this:
"I’ve stumbled upon footage showing a forced sex situation in one of the BA facilities, a medically imposed ‘fertility procedure’ carried out on participants under the threat of canceling their participation in the program. How much of this could be true? Does anyone know anything?"
Hashtags are #medicalrape #betaactivation
Then, suddenly, a notification pops up saying the video violates platform rules and has been blocked.
Even so, it already got out and was seen. People take screenshots of posts like this.
There is no way it won’t reach those who already have a negative attitude toward the program. They are always alert to news like this.
After that, I write a venomous post, this time without the video.
I state that the previous post was blocked and speculate about one of the facilities, without naming which one, that is rumored to be using immoral and unethical methods to stimulate fertility in betas.
To avoid dragging too many unrelated people into it, I add that it is most likely a private initiative by one of the managers and that someone should urgently look into it before his actions damage the image of the entire program and sink it altogether.
The reactions under the post go off the charts! A comment flame ignites almost instantly.
Of course, some of the people who managed to see the video say that all it shows is sex against a wall.
Program defenders jump in, accusing me of spreading unverified rumors and posting a slanderous video, probably AI-generated.
But the people who need to recognize it…
will recognize the back side of the units.
And those who know Drax will recognize him too.
Now what happens next depends entirely on the program’s oversight board and the authorities. What will they do? Will they defend themselves or start an investigation?
Or maybe they will just ignore it?
And yet, a small miracle happens.
When I wake up in the morning, with Salt tucked tightly against my side and his arm draped over my waist, I immediately check the Beta Activation homepage on my phone. To my surprise, there is a short official statement.
We would like to firmly deny the allegations regarding possible protocol violations at one of our facilities.
All reported matters are currently under review, as the program’s board is committed to maintaining the highest standards of care and safety.
At this time, there is no cause for concern.
We ask the community to refrain from drawing premature conclusions and assure all concerned parties that our board does not condone any illegal actions, and that any unlawful conduct is always met with legal consequences.
Reading it, I feel a mix of disappointment and satisfaction.
A denial? Sure. A smokescreen.
But even if the video disappeared and the posts stopped getting promoted by the algorithm, the issue still reached the public. I’m pretty sure Sidorov got a call from the oversight board, maybe even from Blue Lowen himself.
One thing is for sure, the enemies of Beta Activation will not let an opportunity like this slip by.
Salt wakes up shortly after, barely fifteen minutes before breakfast. He looks delicious, hair tousled, a kind of heat-typical glow hovering around him.
I watch him get dressed, and when he leans down to pick up his boxers, I catch a small glimpse of his pink star, swollen still, looking soft and tasty…
Oh, wow… something murmurs inside my head. If only I could caress it with my tongue again…
But we’re in too much of a hurry to give this little star a proper inspection; our wristbands start going crazy.
Salt seems to be finally fully aware of his odd ‘beta heat’ state and goes to the bathroom to use anti-pheromonal deodorant, which I notice he took from my stuff. Obviously it’s a good idea. The other alphas would not take the scent of ongoing heat lightly.
There’s something I manage to do before we go, though.
When he pauses briefly in front of the mirror to run his fingers through his long black and blue strands one last time before leaving, I stop right behind him and lazily brush my finger along his waist, just above the waistband of his jeans.
I catch a glimpse of bare skin where his tank top has ridden up.
A shiver runs through Salt’s body. He turns to me abruptly, grabs me, pulls me in, and our mouths meet just before our bands start beeping again, summoning us to breakfast. In any case, his reaction is unexpected and hot, and makes me…
well, happy? Should I dare to feel this?
We head toward the dining hall, and along the way I wrestle with myself until finally I think: screw it.
As we step onto the promenade, I take Salt’s hand.
His eyes meet mine.
He doesn’t pull away, even though his hand is a bit slack in my grip.
I know he’s uncomfortable. He’s seemingly not that into romantic or tender gestures.
I can feel it from him, like he resists the warm energy behind it, filtering out everything except the sexual part.
But I need this. I need something more before everything comes crashing down on us.
And I know it will, I just have this dreadful feeling.
As we walk, I take it all in, making peace with the fact that I want more than sex.
My eyes catch his gaze, and I smile at him, and he flushes.
Oh, dear Fate. I want his strangely timid, lowered gaze.
I want the way he lets me kiss him endlessly, even though he’s kind of rebellious about it too, low-key resisting yet still strangely hungry for more.
I want the smirks tugging at the corners of his lips, his peculiar mix of sass and vulnerability, his… everything. I just want him.
Something inside me strains against its leash, reaching for my beta.
Am I somewhat starting to fall for him? Or is it just a good fuck talking?
We enter the corridor leading to the dining hall.
A second before we step through the doors leading inside, I grab his wrist. The move is so quick his body jerks around, and I pin him to the wall.
Salt lets out a sharp gasp of surprise as I hold him there, pressing closer, leaning toward his neck gland.
"Ti bramu, Salt, in tanti maneri; vogghiu… cchiù di tia ca sulu sessu. Vogghiu nuatri! Nuatri e u nostru avveniri…" (I desire you, Salt, in so many ways; I want… more than just sex with you. I want us! Us and our future)
Then I decide to do it. Putting more tenderness into it than I probably should, I lean in and press a soft, gentle kiss to his temple. I feel him stiffen right away, like I’ve crossed some kind of invisible line. There’s a hint of uncertainty in him, some kind of internal struggle.
He murmurs under his breath, like he’s trying to shift the energy between us as quickly as possible.
"I don’t understand a word, but it sounds… nice. Italian is like a melody."
"It’s Sicilian."
Salt lets out a huff. "Sounds Italian to me. Anyway, you’re not going to say it in English, I’m guessing?"
I shake my head. "Not now. Maybe someday."
There’s a quick flicker that crosses his face, like a passing shadow. I almost read it in his eyes, that maybe there won’t be a someday, but I don’t want to believe that. I refuse it.
I step back, letting him go.
He stands there for a moment, leaning against the wall.
A light draft rushing down the hallway stirs the long, silky strands of his black and blue hair.
Salt looks toward the exit, at the patch of light on the floor.
I study his pensive face, his tattoos, the tangled spiderweb and the insects caught in it, the beautiful line of his neck, his long black lashes.
"Sometimes… there are only moments in life, you know?" he says in a melancholic tone.
"And sometimes there’s more."
He squeezes his eyes shut and straightens. He almost brushes himself off, like he’s trying to shake the atmosphere away.
"Let’s go get breakfast," he says in a flat voice.
I inhale. Right. Dangerous ground.
I step back and the two of us head for the door.
The line of couples with trays is short. At the end of it, I spot Bashir and Fred.
We step closer and stand in silence.
Without realizing it, my gaze shifts to them, searching for a distraction from the tangle of my own thoughts.
Then I spot a strange tension. Something’s off between them.
Fred looks barely alive, like he might collapse at any moment. Pale, dark circles under his eyes, a shadow of himself. Bashir, on the other hand, is a thundercloud, brows drawn tight, his black eyes fixed on the food containers, his body radiating heavy silence.
What happened?
Did Fred tell him what happened? Did his conscience refuse to let him lie? He is a good kid, that much is clear, and I honestly feel for him. I really hope the video changes something, that someone on the oversight board asked Sidorov the tough question.
Eventually Salt and I grab our trays and sit down, as usual, next to Evan and Roman. Our relationship with them has not improved much. There is still distance, but we exchange a few words now and then.
We eat for a bit. Roman mentions there is supposed to be a barbecue in the evening, but nothing else particularly interesting comes up.
At some point I hear a commotion behind me. I turn slowly, and suddenly I see a tall, massive figure entering the cafeteria and weaving between the tables…
Toward me?
I jump to my feet instantly, cursing under my breath, but at the same time I get a sharp flash of intuition. In a split second, I pull out my phone and shove it into Salt’s hand.
"Record everything," I mumble, straightening up.
Drax is closing in!
His strange face, as if flames had been permanently etched into his skin, is even extra red now.