The cough came again that morning.
Sirius sat at the table, his notebook tucked under a pile of scrap parchment, when the sound rippled through the small home. It was soft at first, but sharp enough to make his shoulders tense. He turned to see Lyla on the couch, hand pressed to her lips as though she could hide it.
She smiled faintly when she noticed him watching. "It's nothing, Sirius. Just the air. Don't make that face."
But he saw her pallor, the fine tremor in her hands, the way her shoulders slumped when she thought no one was looking.
Dominic crossed the room and placed a hand on her shoulder. "You should rest," he said. His voice carried calm authority, but worry lined his eyes. "I'll see if the quartermaster has any tonics left."
Lyla touched his hand gently and shook her head. "We need to save, Dom. Potions aren't cheap. Don't waste them on me. Sirius needs that Gil more than I do."
At that, Sirius' chest tightened. Save for me?
He said nothing, but a single thought rooted itself deep inside him. If money was the problem, then he had another way.
The system.
---
When Dominic left for duty and Lyla drifted into a nap, Sirius slipped into his room and whispered: Inventory.
The screen shimmered to life.
Gil: 145
He blinked. What? Yesterday, the number had been 87.
His pulse quickened. He shoved aside his blankets, pulling up the floorboard in the corner where he had hidden his little wooden chest. Inside, he had stashed coins over the past few years—small rewards for monster parts, scraps he had traded quietly in the market, his secret savings from Book 1.
He lifted the lid.
Empty.
Sirius froze, breath shallow. It took them… The system took them.
The Gil he had guarded like treasure was gone—absorbed, folded seamlessly into his balance without him lifting a coin. For a moment, unease rippled through him. Was the system stealing from him? Or was it protecting him, gathering everything into one account so he couldn't lose it?
He sat back on his heels, staring into the hollow chest. The system hadn't asked his permission. It had simply decided.
But then he thought of his mother's cough, of Dominic's furrowed brow, of Lyla telling his father to save for him instead.
If the system wanted to gather it all, so be it.
As long as it keeps her alive, I don't care how it works.
Sirius slid the chest back into its hiding place and left the house, the number 145 etched into his mind.
---
The streets of Insomnia were alive with motion. Neon signs glowed above storefronts, vendors shouted their wares, and magitek trams hummed along rails overhead. Stalls lined the avenues, filled with everything from charms to blades to enchanted food that steamed with faint blue light.
Sirius moved quickly, keeping his head low, until he spotted a stand filled with glass vials. Some glowed faintly green, others blue, others deep amber. Potions.
The vendor, a sharp-eyed woman, looked him over. "Need something, boy? Potion? Ether? Maybe you're after something stronger?"
Sirius' throat tightened. "Potion. Two of them."
"Two, eh?" She plucked the vials from the shelf. "Fifty Gil each."
His heart pounded. He reached into his pocket, willing the coins to appear. The system answered—cold, real weight filling his hand. He set the money on the counter, trying to keep his fingers from trembling.
The woman counted, nodded, and handed him the vials wrapped in cloth. "Don't spill 'em. Next!"
Just like that, it was done.
---
He walked home slowly, the vials hidden under his shirt. Every step left him torn between pride and guilt. Pride, because he was doing something for his mother. Guilt, because the Gil hadn't been truly earned. The system had given it, stolen it, saved it—whatever it was. Not him.
When he slipped back into the house, Lyla was awake, her eyes lifting when she saw him. They widened when he shyly set the vials on the table.
"For you, Mom," Sirius murmured.
Her breath caught. "Sirius… where did you—"
"I saved," he lied quickly. The word scraped against his throat like stone. "From little things. I wanted to help."
Her eyes softened. She reached out with trembling fingers and brushed his cheek. "Oh, my sweet boy… You shouldn't have worried about me."
But her voice was warm, her smile brighter than it had been in days. And that warmth filled Sirius with something he couldn't name. Relief. Pride. And guilt.
---
Dominic came home that evening. His eyes landed on the vials immediately.
He strode over, picking one up and turning it over in his hand. His jaw tightened. "Where did these come from?"
Sirius froze.
"I… I bought them," he said.
"With what Gil?" Dominic asked, voice sharp.
The silence stretched like a blade between them. Lyla stepped in, smiling faintly. "He saved, Dom. Can't you see? He wanted to do something for me."
Dominic's eyes narrowed, studying his son. His instincts as a soldier told him something didn't add up. But after a long moment, he set the vial down.
"You shouldn't have to carry that," he said, voice low. "It's my duty."
"I wanted to," Sirius replied, firmer than he intended.
Dominic's brows lifted slightly, then softened just enough to show surprise. He said no more, only rested his hand on Lyla's hair and kissed the crown of her head. "Next time, tell me. You hear me?"
Sirius nodded, though he knew the truth: he wouldn't.
---
Lyla drank one of the potions. The green light glowed faintly at her lips, the magic working quickly. For a little while, the pallor lifted from her face. Her shoulders relaxed. She leaned back with a faint sigh, color returning to her cheeks.
"You're acting too grown up, Sirius," she whispered, smiling. "You should be playing, not worrying about medicine."
He looked away, silent.
Her hand found his, squeezing weakly. "But thank you. You've made me feel better already."
The guilt pressed heavier. He wanted to tell her about the system, about the Gil that wasn't truly his. But her smile silenced him.
Better to let her believe.