The response was immediate.
Not direct—
But clear.
"…they accepted," Jared said.
"…I don't like that tone."
"…pressure increase confirmed."
"…STOP SAYING THAT LIKE IT'S NORMAL."
Jared adjusted position again.
Closer to Iris.
Blocking angles.
"…you're doing that thing again," she said.
"…protective positioning."
"…you've said that before."
"…now it's permanent."
Silence.
Iris blinked.
"…permanent?"
"…until threat is removed."
"…and when is that?"
"…unknown."
"…great."
They exited the campus.
Street.
Crowded.
Normal.
But Jared—
Didn't relax.
Too many variables.
A motorcycle passed—
Too close.
He pulled Iris back instantly.
"…HEY—"
The motorcycle didn't stop.
Didn't even slow down.
"…intentional," Jared said.
"…that could've hit me!"
"…yes."
"…YOU SAID THAT TOO CALMLY."
"…processing."
Jared looked around.
Test scenario.
Reaction speed measured.
"…they're testing response time now," he said.
"…I AM NOT A TEST."
"…currently you are."
"…I HATE THIS."
Jared stopped.
Turned to her.
"…new protocol."
"…I DON'T LIKE YOUR PROTOCOLS."
"…stay within one meter."
"…what?"
"…distance limit."
"…you're serious."
"…yes."
"…this is insane."
"…necessary."
A pause.
Then—
She stepped closer.
"…fine."
"…acknowledged."
"…if I get kidnapped, I'm blaming you."
"…low probability."
"…YOU ALWAYS SAY THAT."
Jared didn't argue.
Because now—
He wasn't just analyzing.
He was protecting.
And that—
Changed everything.