The Beginning

CYMBELINE

Growing up, Cymbeline's parents used to always tell her she should save herself for when she was to meet her soulmate(s). A precious and sacred moment to share with her special person. A gift given to them by a higher power.

Cymbeline never understood the reasoning until she witnessed the deep affection and strong bond between her parents. The pure love they held for each other as they raised her the best of their abilities during the harsh times of a galactic war.

Eventually, she resented the idea of having a soulmate(s) and sharing such an intimate connection with them after witnessing how fucked the living were.

In their world, humans are the lowest class species in the galaxy named Astraea. Earth being the weakest and underdeveloped planet. Once being a place where people lived in its richness and in harmony.

Now, it's a place where people live in its insufferable trenches.

Astraea is a galactic civilization where several species and planets exist, but there are seven specific planets ruled by celestial emperors. The royalty that sit on a lavish throne as they look down upon the rest of them like they are maggots.

Viewing the lower class species as useless ponds to dispose of. A perfect prime example being during a galactic war or an enemy invasion where they can execute that plan perfectly.

Of course, Cymbeline couldn't care less about the snotty royals of the galaxy. They're the least of her ongoing head-aching problems.

Unlike them, she doesn't have the privilege and luxury of the world to do as she pleases. Nobody to order around to go fetch her nonsense as she sits on a golden pedestal with a snarky or arrogant smirk.

Especially being able to roam around freely wherever she wants without faking her life and existence. No threat or worry of what's to come and how to provide for what's left of her family.

The cons of the world.

'Fuck. How long is this dude gonna take? He knows how risky our meet up is in the daylight. So, what's the wait up?'

Cymbeline let out an annoyed sigh as she was growing impatient and anxious with the male she was supposed to meet 30-minutes ago.

Her eyes hastily began scanning the dark and graffitied alley hidden from the sun's beaming rays of light as she kicked the gravel with her old and dirtied white-sneakers.

There were two entries to get into the abandoned alley. The back way and the front way, yet there wasn't any sight of another shadowed figure walking in. No matter the amount of rapid seconds of time that exceeds.

'It's okay, Cymbeline. Just give it a few more minutes.'

Cymbeline took a deep breath to calm her jittering mind as she proceeded to wait for the particular late individual.

Luckily, Cymbeline didn't have to break a sweat about the outskirts of the galaxy's problems. No concern over insulting the shitty higher ranking species for their ignorance and arrogance of those around them.

Plus, it's not as if she'll ever encounter the high-class since they're several planets away from Earth. Mainly, if they have no reason to visit her home planet, because they're merely worthless for their alien asses, which is a good thing for her.

As Cymbeline closed her eyes, she leaned her back against the brick wall out of boredom. Her hands were in the huge and warm pockets of the black male sweater she wore, along with black ripped jeans and a black beanie hiding her hair.

Soon after, her father, along with others, were recruited for the battle. She was six years old when the galactic league warriors from the other planets paid Earth a short visit and announced the New Order to their planet.

The shitty New Order Cymbeline liked to refer as a death certificate.

To their despair, the human species became extinct after being forced to contribute to war as Galactic Warriors when unknown evil forces began attacking and killing countless civilizations around the galaxy.

No one really knew what they were or how they came to be except that they were dangerous, dark creatures that were out to kill anything with a life force.

Unfortunately, humans rapidly began dying as they are the weakest of several alien species and didn't possess supernatural abilities like the others. Dying one after the other like fucking flies.

Alas, her father was one of those fallen warriors prior to the end of the war.

As a result, Earth became the poorest planet for the lack of input in battle and losing more than half the Alpha population. The strongest second gender, unlike the Omega that were kept safe and protected at home.

The male coexisting as the Alpha and the female as the Omega. Hardly, producing any Beta of female and male offsprings.

The planet being left with most adult Omega, various alien Alpha species from different planets, volunteered as candidates to mate with the human omegas for survival.

However, many suffered death for not being physically compatible in the attempt to knot, yet some rarely survived and achieved to conceive a child mix-breed.

In truth, those sickos just wanted to get their dirty hands on a human Omega and justify it as a good deed for their planet's salvation.

Luckily, Cymbeline's mother kept both of them hidden in the shadows and the poorest parts of what remained as Earth when the other species mixed themselves with female humans from their curiosity of getting a taste of the human Omega.

An easy species to maneuver around and manipulate however their fucked up alien brain wished to.

Suddenly, her body jolted off the brick wall as she realized something unpleasant.

'Shit. Don't tell me he got caught? Impossible. That guy is the best one out there. Discreet as a bitch.'

Cymbeline's eyes widened as she felt her heart-rate rise from the worst possible conclusion that she could think of.

To her luck, a shadowy figure made its appearance and appointed their direction toward her startled self.

"Cymbeline, right?"

A man's raspy voice questioned as the dim lighting slightly revealed a hooded guy with a tall and lean stature.

As he grew closer, she noticed the folded sleeves raised across his arms, which exposed half of his glowing tattooed arms and polished black nails. Her purple iris then went up to his face, yet the only thing she could see were his dry and pale lips.

He was a human crossbreed. The same as the rest of her kind that lived on Earth.

If it weren't for her good resistance to men and his parched lips, her folds would've been dripping wet with her juices by now because of his mysterious demeanor.

Those guys were her slight weakness, along with the obedient and puppy-looking ones.

"Yeah. Got the thing I asked for?"

"Sure did."

The man revealed a small blue container inside his coat that was secured in a chest pocket, but instantly hid it back in place.

"However, this little guy has gotten hard to acquire and come across upon more than a few weeks ago."

He voiced with non-visible narrowed eyes as he examined her reaction.

"Meaning?"

Cymbeline asked knowing fucking well what he was about to utter with his crack addict-looking ass lips.

"You'll have to pay up highly for its price. Nothin' personal, kid."

"How much?"

She hastily said while taking out a stash of cash sealed inside an envelope that she earned while doing some favors for hooligans around her block.

"Sounds like you're in a rush. Who's the unfortunate gal? Your sister?"

"None of your business. So, you gonna tell me it's worth or be the nosiest fucking dealer I've bargained with?"

Cymbeline hissed defensively as she grew extremely impatient after the long wait. However, her aggressive reaction wasn't because of her ingrowing impatience.

If anything, she was the type to become vastly uptight about her privacy being mentioned by outsiders. Precisely with prying individuals associated under the black-market.

After all, they could leak and expose her true identity. Ruin everything her mother had worked hard to secure from the alphas that dominate their galaxy.

Luckily, the man got the hostile message and didn't meddle any further into her personal affairs as he reached out for the blue container once again.

"Here. It's all yours."

Before she could turn her back to him and leave after handing the stash of money, the hooded guy murmured something that caught her utter attention.

"Those pills are one of the last few that exist. If I were ya I'd seek for another way to.. treat that."

He warned as he turned around to take his departure, but she immediately stopped his tracks in her shaken voice.

"The.. the last few? The hell's that suppose to mean? You're joking, right?"

"Wish I was, kid. Or else we wouldn't be running out of business sooner than expected. Now, we gotta figure out another way to survive out here in this shitty environment just like the rest."

He shrugged with no regard for how much this cruel information meant to her.

"There has to be someone else who sells more of these, right? I'll pay extra if you give me the name."

The man merely scoffed at her desperate and tempting offer.

"Why'd ya think I said we? As in we, who illegally sell this shit for a living. These suppressants that omegas use to hide themselves from the alphas."

The man emphasizes as he raised an eyebrow at the obvious signs of desperation coming from the young lad.

"Fuck."

It was the only word she managed to say.

"Then, what's the other way around this? How can—"

"Their soulmate. That's how."

It was all he said as he left a shocked Cymbeline alone in the dark alley.

"This is bullshit! What am I supposed to fucking do now?"

She cursed in a whisper like tone. Assuring nobody else would hear her—anyone who may be lurking in these dangerous and off-limit part of the streets.

Cymbeline couldn't believe her ears. Another dealer was quitting. He was the seventh person this week. The seventh to inform her about the pills being no longer produced or made.

Now, she has to find another way around her problem.

"Shit!"

She cursed as she kicked a broken glass bottle lying on the concrete floor, along with other items.

More precisely, trash a bunch of pimps and inconsiderate fucks who left it there for the wind to blow it away and add more unwanted filth in the open.

The Earth's environment was already unhygienic and filthy, but these assholes didn't help maintain it to keep it clean in these poor conditions.

"Fuck. There has to be more of them. These can't be the last of their kind."

Cymbeline scowled at the blue container of pills. Specifically, the heat suppressants she bought off the dealer and from other countless dealers in the past.

Pills she liked to refer to as her goodies, which have kept her from being found out. Her false and true identity. The pills that helped her remain unseen and camouflaged with the rest of the crowd.

'Shit. The last of its kind like my mother and I...'