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  The MIT Tokyo Branch aircraft was a beast of silent power—sleek, matte black exterior cutting through the Pacific skies like a whisper of war. Inside, twenty-one protocol wielders from across Japan sat in luxury leather seats, arranged in two aisles.

  Rin sat alone, pressed against the window.

  Outside, the clouds looked soft—like you could fall through them forever.

  Inside, it was noise.

  Most of the other passengers were already exchanging names, showing off marks from their protocol awakenings, bragging about their ranks like trading cards.

  She picked up fragments of conversation as they floated around her.

  “—A+ Rank, can’t believe it! The vetting took three whole weeks.”

  “Mine’s B+, but I’ve already unlocked stage two.”

  This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  “Bro, that’s sick. What’s your protocol?”

  “Basilisk. Poison class. You?”

  And then came the voice that sliced through the rest like a sword.

  “S-Rank. Beelzebub Protocol.”

  Gasps. Actual gasps.

  Rin didn’t even flinch.

  She didn’t care.

  Beelzebub Boy had a voice like cheap confidence and hair too styled for a military-grade aircraft. The group around him erupted into fawning awe.

  She kept staring out the window, chin resting on her knuckles, uninterested.

  Until—

  “H-hi. I’m Jin Xuan… b-but you can call me J-Jin.”

  Rin blinked.

  A boy had slipped into the empty seat beside her. Seventeen. Wiry build. Soft brown hair cut unevenly, as though he’d done it himself. Round glasses too big for his nose. His voice trembled with every syllable, hands clasped tight in his lap.

  “…Um. Rin.”

  His eyes widened a little. “N-no. Not Rin. Jin.”

  “…Yeah, Rin is my name,” she said with a faint smirk.

  “O-oh. O-okay.”

  Silence. Awkward, but kind of funny.

  Then, out of nowhere: “I-it was Dr. Mensah who s-said I should meet you. And b-be with you.”

  That made her raise an eyebrow, amused. “Be with me?”

  He flushed red, waving his hands in a panicked swirl. “N-not like—uh—not like that! I-I mean like… p-pairing. N-not pairing—uh, like, group assignment! T-training group! Oh gods.”

  She stared at him, suppressing a laugh. “You’re spiraling.”

  “I kn-know.”

  Rin leaned back, inspecting him with vague curiosity. “So... how’d you even find me if you didn’t know my name?”

  He pointed at her very seriously. “D-Dr. Mensah s-said to look for a girl with... d-dark hair. And a v-very, um… dark vibe.”

  Rin blinked. “Dark vibe?”

  He nodded, adjusting his glasses awkwardly. “Y-you know. Gut kind of vibe. G-gut said it was you.”

  She tilted her head slightly, finally cracking a real smile—small, but there.

  “Gut kinda vibe, huh?”

  He smiled sheepishly. “Y-yeah.”

  She looked out the window again, but this time, her expression was softer.

  She didn’t ask about his protocol. He didn’t offer.

  And that was fine.