The sun was already high when Jason stepped out, light glinting off rooftops and warming the early chatter of the neighborhood. He had a short list for the day, but the most pressing came first.
New year. New level. New uniform.
Cresthill's Year 10 students wore a darker shade of navy with updated trims—nothing flashy, but enough to separate them from the lower forms. Jason walked the short distance to the school's designated uniform supplier, tucked between an accounting office and a mini-mart that never had change.
Inside, the air was cool, the smell of starch and plastic wrapping thick in the room. Rows of uniforms hung neatly on polished racks, sorted by year, section, and sizing.
A woman behind the counter looked up. "Yes, please?"
Jason stepped forward. "Jason Owusu. Year Ten. Picking up my new uniforms."
She tapped on a tablet, then blinked. "Oh. Yes. Special delivery package. Paid in full. Hold on."
She disappeared into the back, and returned with a set of neatly folded uniforms, each sealed in its own packaging. Cresthill's badge — a stylized hill topped with a crown and five stars — gleamed against the fabric.
Jason ran a hand over the cloth. The tailoring was exact, down to the quarter-inch. The system must've made sure everything was precision-ordered.
"You want to try them on?" the woman asked.
Jason shook his head. "They'll fit."
She handed him the sealed bag. "They always do, for the kids whose parents pay full price."
He gave a polite nod and stepped out, slipping the package under one arm.
As he walked home, the system pinged softly in his vision.
[Delayed Deliveries – Status Update]
Estimated Arrival: 3 hours
Package Contents:
• Custom Mattress – orthopedic memory blend
• Bookcase (assembled)
• Basic kitchen set + new pots
• Office chair (gift-wrapped)
• School tech bundle – 2024 Cresthill-recommended devices
• Supplemental grocery restock (non-perishable)
• Discreet envelope drop – donation to school fund
Jason blinked. Right. That order.
He'd set it up days ago — back when the house had still felt like a temporary station. He'd meant to use it to quietly upgrade things, make his mom more comfortable without triggering a suspicious string of questions.
Guess the universe had taken its time. Typical.
[Would you like to adjust delivery routing to new property?]
[YES] [NO]
Jason tapped YES.
[New Routing Confirmed – Arrival ETA: 3hr 12min]
[Recipient Contact: "M. Owusu" – Delivery Details Marked Anonymous]
He smiled slightly.
Perfect.
Everything was lining up — the house, the car, the school, the promise he'd made.
He adjusted the uniform bag under his arm, already picturing the look on his mom's face when she stepped into that new kitchen, sat in that chair, opened that "random" prize letter.
Let her think it was fate.
Jason would be the one to make sure it stayed that way.
By the time Jason got home, the afternoon heat had begun to roll in — thick and heavy, like the air was holding its breath. He placed the sealed uniform package neatly on his bed, then changed into a loose t-shirt and shorts. The old fan in the living room hummed as he settled down at the table with his tablet and a blank notebook.
It was almost strange, having time like this.
No monsters. No ancient scripts. No knives in the dark or gods whispering from dying stars.
Just school.
Normal.
Or what passed for normal when you were trying to quietly dethrone the top student at one of the most competitive Cambridge-based schools in the country.
Jason tapped on the system overlay and opened a new planning tab.
[Academic Performance Optimization]
Status: Year 10 Student — Cresthill Academy
Historical Records: Available
Target Objective: Overall Best in Year Level
Primary Competition: Kwame Adu-Boateng (10-year top scorer)
Suggested Strategy:
• Cognitive Efficiency Enhancement (SP Cost: 40)
• Memory Recall Boost (SP Cost: 25)
• Focus Conditioning Pack – 8 weeks (SP Cost: 12)
• Aesthetic Processing Pack: Athletic Neuromuscular Balance (SP Cost: 35)
• After-school Physical Regimen Blueprint – customizable (FREE)
Jason added all five to his personal queue. One blink later, they were processing in the background.
He felt it instantly — like his brain had just shrugged off a weight he hadn't known it was carrying. Ideas connected faster. Sentences formed sharper. Even the way he looked at his open science notes changed — clearer, simpler.
"Let's see how long Kwame holds on to that top spot," Jason murmured.
⸻
He was halfway through mapping out his new weekly study plan when his mom's voice floated in from the hall.
"Jay?"
"Yeah?"
"You… signed me up for something?"
Jason froze.
A beat passed.
He turned slowly in his chair and looked toward the hallway. His mom stood there with her phone in hand, eyebrows raised, a mixture of suspicion and confusion on her face.
"This 'Emerald Living Women's Home Prize Draw'? Says I've been selected as a finalist in some regional lifestyle raffle — and I never sign up for these things."
Jason kept his face blank.
"Oh yeah," he said casually. "I think I remember that. I filled out something online for you last week. Thought it might be fun."
She gave him the look. "Fun?"
"It said something about honoring single working women who've raised kids on their own," Jason continued, waving vaguely. "I just typed your name and story. Didn't think it would go anywhere."
His mom blinked, then looked down at the email again.
"They're saying I'm a finalist. That the judges are going to 'present the prize directly' sometime this week. A fully furnished home and a reliable family vehicle?" She laughed — short, disbelieving. "This sounds fake."
Jason shrugged. "They sent it from a verified company address, right?"
"…Yes."
"Then maybe you won," he said, smiling innocently. "They probably saw how incredible you are."
She stared at him.
Then laughed again — this time, a little softer.
"Ei. You and your experiments. Next time tell me before you give strangers our address, okay?"
"Noted," Jason said, biting back a grin.
She gave him a mock glare, then walked off still chuckling, shaking her head. "A house and a car. Can you imagine?"
Jason waited until she disappeared around the corner before glancing at the system overlay again.
[Fake Competition Protocol – Active]
Arrival Time: 2hr 27min
Prize Presentation Package Prepared – Lifestyle Media Envelope, Local Presenter Assigned, Documents Marked "No Follow-Up Required"
Vehicles + Property Registered Under: M. Owusu
Jason exhaled and leaned back in his chair.
Let her laugh.
Let her think it was luck. A miracle. Destiny.
She deserved to believe, even just for a while, that sometimes life could turn in your favor without warning.
That sometimes, someone out there noticed you.
And wanted to give something back.
By the time Jason got home, the afternoon heat had begun to roll in — thick and heavy, like the air was holding its breath. He placed the sealed uniform package neatly on his bed, then changed into a loose t-shirt and shorts. The old fan in the living room hummed as he settled down at the table with his tablet and a blank notebook.
It was almost strange, having time like this.
No monsters. No ancient scripts. No knives in the dark or gods whispering from dying stars.
Just school.
Normal.
Or what passed for normal when you were trying to quietly dethrone the top student at one of the most competitive Cambridge-based schools in the country.
Jason tapped on the system overlay and opened a new planning tab.
[Academic Performance Optimization]
Status: Year 10 Student — Cresthill Academy
Historical Records: Available
Target Objective: Overall Best in Year Level
Primary Competition: Kwame Adu-Boateng (10-year top scorer)
Suggested Strategy:
• Cognitive Efficiency Enhancement (SP Cost: 40)
• Memory Recall Boost (SP Cost: 25)
• Focus Conditioning Pack – 8 weeks (SP Cost: 12)
• Aesthetic Processing Pack: Athletic Neuromuscular Balance (SP Cost: 35)
• After-school Physical Regimen Blueprint – customizable (FREE)
Jason added all five to his personal queue. One blink later, they were processing in the background.
He felt it instantly — like his brain had just shrugged off a weight he hadn't known it was carrying. Ideas connected faster. Sentences formed sharper. Even the way he looked at his open science notes changed — clearer, simpler.
"Let's see how long Kwame holds on to that top spot," Jason murmured.
⸻
He was halfway through mapping out his new weekly study plan when his mom's voice floated in from the hall.
"Jay?"
"Yeah?"
"You… signed me up for something?"
Jason froze.
A beat passed.
He turned slowly in his chair and looked toward the hallway. His mom stood there with her phone in hand, eyebrows raised, a mixture of suspicion and confusion on her face.
"This 'Emerald Living Women's Home Prize Draw'? Says I've been selected as a finalist in some regional lifestyle raffle — and I never sign up for these things."
Jason kept his face blank.
"Oh yeah," he said casually. "I think I remember that. I filled out something online for you last week. Thought it might be fun."
She gave him the look. "Fun?"
"It said something about honoring single working women who've raised kids on their own," Jason continued, waving vaguely. "I just typed your name and story. Didn't think it would go anywhere."
His mom blinked, then looked down at the email again.
"They're saying I'm a finalist. That the judges are going to 'present the prize directly' sometime this week. A fully furnished home and a reliable family vehicle?" She laughed — short, disbelieving. "This sounds fake."
Jason shrugged. "They sent it from a verified company address, right?"
"…Yes."
"Then maybe you won," he said, smiling innocently. "They probably saw how incredible you are."
She stared at him.
Then laughed again — this time, a little softer.
"Ei. You and your experiments. Next time tell me before you give strangers our address, okay?"
"Noted," Jason said, biting back a grin.
She gave him a mock glare, then walked off still chuckling, shaking her head. "A house and a car. Can you imagine?"
Jason waited until she disappeared around the corner before glancing at the system overlay again.
[Fake Competition Protocol – Active]
Arrival Time: 2hr 27min
Prize Presentation Package Prepared – Lifestyle Media Envelope, Local Presenter Assigned, Documents Marked "No Follow-Up Required"
Vehicles + Property Registered Under: M. Owusu
Jason exhaled and leaned back in his chair.
Let her laugh.
Let her think it was luck. A miracle. Destiny.
She deserved to believe, even just for a while, that sometimes life could turn in your favor without warning.
That sometimes, someone out there noticed you.
And wanted to give something back.