The kitchen light was the only one still burning in the apartment, casting a warm glow over the counter where Reinhard stood over the stove.
The Moonheart Fruit had already been prepared, its pale flesh dissolved into the dark mixture simmering in the pot. Vane’s handwritten formula lay open beside him, covered in small notes and careful measurements.
Reinhard checked the next ingredient twice before adding it. The liquid hissed softly. He stirred slowly, watching the color change by degrees until it finally matched the description in the formula.
"Good." He marked the step and moved on.
The process was slower than he’d expected. Several ingredients had to be added at precise stages, while others needed to be prepared separately before they could be combined. The smallest mistake could ruin the entire batch, and there was no second supply of Moonheart Fruit waiting for him if that happened.
So Reinhard took his time.
As the hours passed, the apartment became completely silent. Everyone else was asleep while he remained in the kitchen, measuring ingredients, checking the formula, and adjusting the mixture whenever necessary. His eyes began to burn sometime before dawn.
He rubbed them and rolled his shoulders before looking back at the pot. He could have stopped and continued in the morning, but the formula required the entire process to be completed without interruption. Any delay could reduce the medicine’s effectiveness.
Normally, this would have been a team effort. Reinhard didn’t have one, so he kept going. By the time the first pale light appeared through the kitchen window, the final stage was complete.
He compared the finished mixture with Vane’s notes one last time before finally allowing himself to relax. "It’s almost ready."
He looked toward the hallway. Emily would be awake soon. A faint smile crossed his face. He still hadn’t told anyone what he’d been making. There was no reason to give them hope before he knew whether the medicine would actually work. If it failed, he would deal with that himself.
If it succeeded...
His smile lingered. Then he could tell Emily himself.
...
Emily and Maki were the first to wake, as they always were, moving quietly down the hallway toward the kitchen out of habit more than anything else. A soft clink of metal against ceramic reached them before they turned the corner.
Emily slowed, tilting her head. "Someone’s in the kitchen."
Maki glanced toward the doorway. "Stay here."
"Why?"
"It’s odd for one of them to be awake so early." Maki moved behind her wheelchair and gently pushed her toward her usual spot near the window. "I’ll see who’s awake."
"But—"
"Emily." Maki gave her a look. "You just woke up."
Emily frowned slightly but allowed herself to be pushed toward the window. "Fine."
Maki turned toward the kitchen and disappeared around the corner. The moment she entered, she stopped at the sight of Reinhard standing alone at the stove, his silver hair a mess, his blue eyes tired, the kitchen itself in a similar state.
Her eyes narrowed toward the pot. "Don’t tell me you’ve been awake all night."
He looked over his shoulder. "Morning."
She looked at the clock, then back at him. "You have."
"I had something to finish."
"You’re going to collapse."
He smiled tiredly. "I’ll survive."
She sighed and walked closer, looking into the pot. "What are you making?"
"Something for Emily."
She studied him a moment before shaking her head. "You really don’t know how to pace yourself."
"Not when it concerns my wife."
That earned him an exasperated look. "At least don’t burn it."
"I won’t. After all, it’s for my beautiful wife."
Maki didn’t even reply to that, turning and heading back toward Emily.
"Who was it?" Emily asked.
"Just Reinhard."
"What is he doing?"
"Making breakfast."
Emily smiled faintly. "Oh." She settled back into her usual spot. "I wonder what he’s making."
...
Lily wandered into the kitchen a little later and stopped when she saw Reinhard still standing beside the stove. "You’re awake this early?"
"Almost finished."
Her eyes moved from the pot to his tired face. "This is for Emily, isn’t it?"
"Yes."
She was quiet a moment. "Then don’t ruin it."
"I wasn’t planning to."
She gave him a suspicious look before leaving. A little later, Yuna passed through the kitchen and found him in almost the same position. She didn’t ask what he was making, only studied his tired expression a moment before saying, "You should sleep after this."
"I will."
She glanced toward the pot, then back at him. Whatever he was making, he clearly didn’t want anyone to know yet, and she didn’t press him. "All right," she said, before continuing down the hallway.
He watched her go before turning his attention back to the medicine. One by one the sisters gathered their things and left for the morning, their voices fading down the hallway until the apartment settled into quiet, leaving only Reinhard and Emily behind.
After nearly an hour of cooling, the medicine was finally ready. He checked the formula one last time, comparing every measurement against his notes before looking at the dark liquid in the bowl.
There was no second batch. No second Moonheart Fruit. No guarantee any of this would work.
He let out a slow breath. "It’s ready."
The familiar blue light appeared before his eyes.
[Investment Objective Completed.]
[C-Grade Investment Successful.]
He stared at the notification. He had done it. For the first time since he’d learned about Emily’s shattered Gnosis, he was holding something that had actually been made for the purpose of restoring it.
[Reward Calculation Complete.]
[Reward Obtained.]
[Legendary Reward Granted: Link Chain]
[Effect: Establishes a connection between the user and a target.]
[Additional Effects Vary According to the Established Connection.]
He stared at the description. "A connection?"
There was no further explanation. Whatever the skill did, the system clearly expected him to figure it out himself.
[Additional Reward Granted: Pain Tolerance.]
[Effect: Greatly increases the user’s ability to endure physical pain without losing consciousness or suffering a significant reduction in physical performance.]
[Additional Reward Granted: Moonheart Herb Dust.]
[Effect: When added during the preparation of restorative food or medicine, doubles its effectiveness.]
[Additional Effect: Can be added to prepared food or medicine without affecting its stability.]
[Additional Reward Granted: Pain Dive Drops.]
[Effect: Dropping it onto food and eating it will grant the user a reduction in pain after ten seconds. It lasts one minute and reduces their pain by half.]
[Additional Reward Granted: Enhanced Vitality.]
[Effect: Permanently increases the user’s vitality, stamina, and resistance to physical exhaustion.]
[Additional Reward Granted: Enhance Mental Fortitude.]
[Effect: Greatly increases one’s resistance to mental disruption caused by extreme pain, fear, and psychological pressure.]
[Additional Reward Granted: [Pain Suppression.]
[Effect: Allows the user to temporarily suppress the physical effects of extreme pain, reducing its impact on movement and consciousness.]
Reinhard blink before muttering. "Most of these are helpful with my pain... Not Emily?"
He sighed before taking the Moonheart Herb Dust and pouring it into the mixture. Then he moved the mixture into a plain bowl before adding the Pain Dive Drops.
It looked completely unremarkable, nothing like the glowing potions from old stories, just a dark liquid resting inside an ordinary dish. Yet this ordinary-looking medicine had cost him nearly everything he had. More importantly, it represented the first real chance Emily had been given since her Gnosis shattered.
He left the kitchen, walked through the hallway, and entered the living room. "Come now, my dear wife."
Emily looked up and blinked. "You made breakfast?"
He chuckled as he approached her. "Kind of."
She looked down at the bowl. "Is that a new dish?"
He stopped beside her, almost smiling at the question. "No." He placed it carefully in front of her. "It’s the medicine."
Her expression shifted, eyes moving from the bowl to him and back. "...You made it?"
"I did."
"You actually—"
"It was a lot of trouble, but I was able to."
Her fingers rested against the edge of the bowl. "For me?"
He looked at her like the answer should have been obvious. "Who else?"
"You’re impossible," she whispered, looking away.
"How likely is it to work?" she asked.
He hesitated. "There’s a chance."
Her eyes narrowed. "Reinhard."
He sighed. "One percent."
Her gaze stayed on the bowl. One percent. She’d spent two years being told there was nothing left to save. Now someone was asking her to gamble on a chance that barely deserved to be called a chance at all.
Silence settled between them.
"And you still want me to take it?"
"Only if you want to."
"And if it fails?"
He was quiet a moment. "Then we keep looking."
"Even after this?"
"Especially after this."
She stared at him. He wasn’t pretending the odds were good. He wasn’t promising her everything would be fine. He was simply refusing to let one failure decide what happened next.
Her fingers tightened around the bowl. "Okay."
She lifted it slowly, and he watched as she took the first sip. The bitter taste made her expression tighten slightly, but she swallowed it and lowered the bowl again.
For a few seconds, nothing happened.
She looked down at the remaining medicine, then back at him. "That’s it?"
He was about to answer when he noticed the change in her expression. Her fingers tightened around the bowl, a faint tremor passing through her hand. "Emily?"
She raised her other hand toward her chest, breathing going uneven. "Wait..."
Something pulsed beneath her chest, faint at first, almost too subtle to notice. Then it happened again.
Stronger.
Her eyes widened. She could feel it, something deep inside her that had been silent for two years, responding.
"Reinhard..."
He moved closer immediately. "What’s happening?"
She tried to answer, but her breath caught. Another pulse moved through her chest, and this time he felt it too.
A spark of mana from her.
She stared at him, eyes widening as she realized the same thing. "It’s..." Her voice broke. She pressed a hand against her chest. "It’s moving."
His heart tightened. It was working. Maybe not enough. Maybe not safely. Maybe not even for long.
But it was working.
Then her entire body tensed, breath catching in her throat. The bowl slipped from her fingers, and he caught it before it hit the floor.
"Emily!"
She doubled over, one hand gripping the side of her wheelchair as a sharp cry escaped her. The pulse inside her Gnosis had turned violent.
Another notification appeared.
[Warning: Gnosis Activity Increasing Rapidly.]
His eyes widened. The researcher had warned him the treatment would be painful. He’d told himself he was prepared for it.
He wasn’t.
Her body shook as she fought to breathe, face twisting in pain. He reached for her. "Emily, look at me."
She could barely lift her head. Then the pain became unbearable, and Reinhard finally understood what the one percent survival rate meant.