Jared Alonzo didn't donate blood for charity.
That would have made sense. It would have made him look like a decent person—someone generous, someone normal.
He wasn't.
He stood in line inside the blood bank, hands in his pockets, eyes half-lidded as he observed everything around him. The room was filled with quiet conversations, the occasional nervous laugh, and the faint metallic scent of antiseptic. People shifted in their seats, glancing at the needles with unease.
Jared didn't feel any of that.
Instead, he felt… anticipation.
"Next!"
The nurse's voice cut through the room. Jared stepped forward without hesitation and sat down in the chair. He rolled up his sleeve with practiced ease.
"You look calm for a first-timer," the nurse said casually as she prepared the needle.
Jared glanced at her. "That's because I'm not."
It wasn't his first time.
It was his second.
The first time had been three months ago. Back then, he had donated without thinking much about it—just a small decision for a little extra allowance money.
But after that day…
Everything changed.
"Alright, small pinch," the nurse said.
The needle slid into his arm.
Jared didn't flinch.
Instead, he watched.
He watched the tube as dark red flowed steadily through it. He focused on it—not out of curiosity, but out of expectation.
Last time, it had happened right around now.
A strange clarity. A sudden shift. Like someone had quietly upgraded his brain without asking permission.
At first, he thought he imagined it.
Then he aced a test he hadn't studied for.
Then he remembered entire lectures word for word.
Then he started thinking faster than everyone around him.
So this time—
He was ready.
He closed his eyes.
And waited.
Three seconds passed.
Nothing.
Five seconds.
Still nothing.
Then—
It came.
Not pain.
Not dizziness.
Something else.
His thoughts sharpened.
Connections formed instantly.
Memories aligned as if someone had reorganized them into perfect order.
Jared's eyes snapped open.
"…there it is," he whispered.
"Hmm?" the nurse looked at him.
"Nothing."
But it wasn't nothing.
It was real.
He could feel it.
He was thinking faster. Processing faster. Understanding faster.
This wasn't luck anymore.
This wasn't coincidence.
This was a pattern.
"You're done," the nurse said, removing the needle and placing a bandage over his arm. "Take it easy for a while."
"I'll be fine."
He stood up immediately, ignoring her advice. His body felt slightly lighter, but his mind—
His mind felt incredible.
As he walked out of the building, he began testing himself instinctively.
Recalling information.
Analyzing patterns.
Estimating outcomes.
Everything was clearer.
Better.
Sharper.
Jared stopped just outside the blood bank and looked back at it.
It looked completely normal.
A regular building.
Ordinary people walking in and out.
Nothing special.
But inside—
Something had changed him.
"Interesting," he murmured.
A small smile formed on his face.
"If this works once… it works again."
Every three months.
One donation.
One upgrade.
Simple.
Efficient.
Repeatable.
Jared turned and walked away, already planning his next move.
What he didn't notice—
Was the man standing behind the glass window inside.
Watching him.
"…subject reacted faster this time," the man said quietly.
He picked up his phone.
"Mark him."
Outside, Jared continued walking.
Unaware—
Or perhaps already aware—
That his life had just entered something far bigger than he expected.