The final bell of the day at Westbrook High blared like a death knell, cutting through the hum of chatter and the scrape of chairs. Most students poured out of the building, laughing and shoving each other, eager to escape the drudgery of textbooks and tests. But Ethan Reed stayed glued to his desk, his shoulders hunched, staring at the crumpled paper in his hands.
The red ink of his math test bled through the page, a single, damning letter scrawled across the top: F.
"Ethan!"
The sharp, disappointed voice of his math teacher, Mr. Henderson, cut through the fading noise of the classroom. The remaining students, who were packing their bags, paused to watch. Jake Miller, the school's star quarterback and Ethan's tormentor, leaned back in his seat, a lazy, cruel smile playing on his lips.
Mr. Henderson slammed a fresh copy of the test down on Ethan's desk. His knuckles were white with frustration. "This is the third consecutive time you've failed this unit exam, Ethan. Third. At this point, I have to ask—are you even trying? Do you care at all about your future?"
Ethan's throat felt tight. He stared at the desk, at the scuffed initials he'd carved into it years ago, and said nothing. What could he say? That he'd stayed up until 2 a.m. redoing the problems, only to stare blankly at the page when the exam started? That the numbers and formulas swam together into a meaningless jumble in his head?
The class erupted in snickers. Jake Miller stood up, his broad frame casting a shadow over Ethan's desk. "C'mon, Mr. H, cut him some slack," he said, feigning sympathy. "Not everyone's cut out for this stuff. Maybe he should just drop out and start bagging groceries now. Save everyone the disappointment."
A few of Jake's jock friends hooted in agreement. Ethan's face burned. He wanted to disappear, to sink through the linoleum floor and never come back up. For as long as he could remember, he'd been the invisible kid—the poor one with the faded hoodies, the quiet one who ate alone in the library, the stupid one who couldn't keep up.
His parents worked two jobs just to pay the rent and keep the lights on. He'd seen the way they looked at him sometimes, a mix of love and quiet worry when his report cards came home with Ds and Fs. He'd promised himself he'd do better, that he'd make them proud. But every time he tried, he just fell further behind.
When the final bell rang a second time, signaling the last students to leave, Ethan grabbed his tattered backpack and fled. He didn't go home. He walked to the old oak tree at the edge of the schoolyard, the one where he'd hidden during lunch periods since the sixth grade. The sky had turned dark, and fat raindrops began to fall, soaking through his hoodie and plastering his hair to his forehead.
He sat down on the cold, wet ground, pulled the failed test out of his pocket, and stared at it. The numbers blurred, not from the rain, but from the tears stinging his eyes. He crumpled the paper in his fist, ready to throw it into the mud, when a voice—clear, mechanical, and utterly alien—echoed inside his head.
[Ding!][Detected host in a state of extreme academic distress and existential despair.][Eligibility confirmed. Initiating Perfect Score System integration...][System integration successful. Welcome, Host Ethan Reed.]
Ethan froze. The rain continued to fall, but he barely felt it. "What… what is this?" he whispered, looking around wildly. The schoolyard was empty. There was no one there.
[I am the Perfect Score System, designed to elevate the Host's academic and personal potential to unprecedented heights.][Current Host Status:][Name: Ethan Reed][IQ: 98 (Below Average)][Academic Level: Failing (D- GPA)][Physical Condition: Poor (Sedentary lifestyle, minor malnutrition)][Charisma: 4 (Invisible to peers)][Initial Gift Package activated!][Reward 1: Photographic Memory permanently unlocked!][Reward 2: Next academic assessment will automatically result in a PERFECT SCORE!][Reward 3: Minor Physical Enhancement (10% increase in strength, speed, and reflexes).]
Ethan's heart hammered in his chest. He thought he'd finally lost his mind, that the stress had broken him. But when he closed his eyes and focused on the math test he'd just failed, something miraculous happened. Every single problem, every formula, every step of the solution flooded into his mind, crystal clear and perfectly ordered. It was like he'd been blind his whole life and had suddenly been given sight.
He fumbled in his backpack for a pencil and a scrap of paper. He wrote out the solution to the first problem on his failed test—neat, precise, correct. Then the second, third, and fourth. In minutes, he'd reworked the entire exam flawlessly.
He stared at the paper in his hands, at the perfect equations, and laughed. It was a wet, disbelieving sound, half-hysterical, half-relieved. The rain soaked through his clothes, but he didn't care. For the first time in his life, Ethan Reed didn't feel like a failure.
He felt like he might actually win.
[Ding!][Host has demonstrated initial comprehension of System capabilities.][First Quest Unlocked: Prove Your Worth.][Objective: Achieve a perfect score on the upcoming midterm makeup exam.][Reward: +20 IQ, Advanced Calculus Proficiency, $10,000 deposited to Host's bank account.][Failure Penalty: System deactivation.]
Ethan stood up, the failed test still in his hand. He looked up at the dark, rainy sky, and for the first time, he didn't see a storm. He saw a starting line.
The era of the invisible loser was over.
The era of the perfect genius had just begun.