The auditorium was massive—larger than any lecture hall Rin had ever seen. Tiered seats curved around a central stage, where an enormous holographic screen pulsed with the MIT insignia.

  Six hundred recruits filled the room, yet the air felt heavier than just bodies. It was the weight of presence.

  The presence of monsters.

  Or rather, the people who had become them.

  Rin scanned the room without moving her head. Some recruits were already clustered in groups, speaking in hushed voices or boasting openly. The energy was electric—like throwing six hundred newly lit matches into a single room and waiting for one to start a fire.

  Jin shifted beside her, clutching his issued datapad like a lifeline. “T-There’s so many…”

  She didn’t respond. Instead, she listened.

  “The Valkyrie Protocols are the strongest combat-tier. There’s no debate.”

  “Shut up. Odin-tier users exist.”

  “You guys act like Norse myths are the only strong ones. My brother wields a Garuda Protocol from Hindu mythology—he could wipe half of you in a flight battle.”

  The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  “Garuda? Please. A properly evolved Quetzalcoatl Protocol would turn you into ashes.”

  “Behemoth and Leviathan Protocol users are in this intake. You wanna argue with that?”

  Rin tuned them out. Myths. Gods. Creatures. The whole world had bled them into reality, and now they were standing shoulder to shoulder in this room.

  Some wore uniforms with country flags stitched onto their sleeves—Japan, America, India, Egypt, China, Brazil, Germany, Russia. Others had insignias she didn’t recognize—private factions, corporate-sponsored myth wielders, maybe even black-market mercenaries.

  A deep chuckle cut through the noise.

  Rin turned slightly. A tall man with dark skin and sharp golden eyes sat near the back, arms folded lazily. He wasn’t boasting—he didn’t need to. Others were watching him instead.

  “That’s a Baron Samedi Protocol wielder,” someone whispered nearby. “Voodoo. Haitian origin. Death and the afterlife.”

  “I heard the Egyptian recruits brought someone with the Set Protocol.”

  “The Chaos God?”

  “Yeah. The original desert storm.”

  Further down, a woman with intricate tattoos traced along her arms stood with an aura of quiet menace. “Lamashtu,” someone murmured. “Ancient Mesopotamian. Demon Queen of Nightmares.”

  Jin nudged Rin lightly. “You hear that? A Lamashtu Protocol…”

  She did. And she wasn’t impressed.

  Then came the one who silenced the room.

  A young man, tall, draped in a coat that looked woven from shadows, walked toward the front. He didn’t say a word, but the moment his foot hit the stage, something invisible pressed down on everyone.

  A weight. A presence.

  Jin inhaled sharply. “What… was that?”

  Someone near them whispered, voice almost reverent. “Hades Protocol.”

  Greek. God of the Underworld.

  Rin exhaled slowly.

  This wasn’t just a gathering of recruits. It was a battlefield waiting to happen.

  At that moment, the main stage flickered, and the MIT insignia was replaced by a face.

  Dr. Mensah.

  “Welcome to the Mythos Institute of Transcendence,” his voice boomed across the room. “You are here not because of luck, not because of privilege—but because something inhuman has chosen you.”

  A pause. Then his gaze sharpened.

  “The question is… will you survive it?”

  The room fell deathly silent.

  ---