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Chapter Text

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……you must……not….longer….choice…..…hear me….please…..listen…stop…time…..brother……return….

There it was again.  That irritating voice.

Harry Potter, The-Man-Who-Conquered, The Only Successful Thief of Gringotts, and the Chosen One was hearing voices.

Again.

Shoulders slumping in weariness, the young man removed his (still-hideous) glasses, carelessly tossing them on his desk as he rested his elbows on the edge of the wood and pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes in a vain attempt to chase off the phantom shivers that raced down his spine and the incessant pounding in his head.

It had been nearly six months since the Battle of Hogwarts.

Harry let out a breathless, broken sound that could have been a bitter laugh or a choked sob.

It was supposed to be different after I managed to kill the bastard.  Supposed to be better.  I willingly walked to my death, had to deal with one last secret- one more thing that was withheld from me-, came back to finish the fight, buried the last family I had and for what?  The dirt had barely settled over Fred’s coffin when Ron and I had that fight.  Hermione said that it was the last of the Horcrux’s influence and his grief talking, but that was nearly four months ago.

It had all started barely two weeks after the Final Battle.  Harry had struck down his enemy and collapsed, coming to nearly four days later in the familiar setting of the Hogwarts Hospital Wing.  He had barely had time to shower and eat before he had been best upon by his friends and remaining surrogate family, and after that it had been a whirlwind of damage control, funerals, and questions from all sides. 

Save a damn country and they still believe in their oppressors or begin to believe that you are the oppressor.

Even though everyone had known that Voldemort was a dictator, nearly two years of negative press had taken their toll.  While Kingsley Shacklebolt and his newly purged Ministry were doing their level best, there were many detractors and gainsayers.  Rumors from Harry being the Next Dark Lord to rumors that he and Dumbledore had purposefully waited until the situation was hopeless before interfering were far and wide.  Add to that his private (but overheard) falling out with the Weasley family and his withdrawal from the public eye and it was only a matter of time before the situation reached its breaking point.

So it was of little surprise to anyone who actually knew him that the young man had holed himself up in the home his beloved Godfather had left him.

…listen…….hear me…….time…..breech…..danger…….don’t…….brother……

Oh, and then there was the voice.  It had been a persistent, but negligible ache for the first few weeks.  Certainly nothing like having an insane, soul-shredding maniac pounding away at your psyche, so he had ignored it with the ease of long practice and went about his duties.  That fight, the loss of support, Andromeda’s apprehension every time he went to see Teddy, and his own overwhelming sense of itsallmyfaultifonlyIhaddonebetterallmyfaulyallmyfaultIkilledthem-

Well.

Then there was his magic.  His magic.  What had made his made him special- his curse and his blessing, his light and his darkness, his love and his hate his torment and his salvation-

-it was leaving him.

He let out another breathless sound that could have been a bitter laugh or a hysterical sob and learned further forward onto his desk.  His black, messy hair fell around his pale skin like a twisted halo while his hands curled into light fists, his cool knuckles soothing the heated flesh of his aching forehead, as he considered his- woefully limited- options.

Harry hadn’t known who to trust when he had first realized that his magic was replenishing far slower than was natural for him.  He and Ron weren’t speaking by that time and while he was still welcome, the Burrow no longer felt like home. Hermione had already jetted off to Australia on her deeply important, yet personal quest to return her parents’ memories.

In the end he had gone to Luna and asked her if she knew any way to evaluate the situation.  She had looked at him with those knowing, silvery eyes, wand tucked behind her ear, dirty blonde hair flowing around her shoulders and in her dreamy way told him that he already knew the answer.  Then she had patted him softly on the cheek and told him that green would always be their color to her, and that she loved them both.  A light brush of her lips against his cheek and she had skipped off down the halls of Hogwarts, cheerily calling over her shoulder that they would always be her most cherished friends.

Harry had stared after her in bemusement before what she said had truly struck.

They?

Before he could even begin to guess or speculate the ache that had been at the back of his mind for the past two months had begun to form words for the first time.  Not enough for him to make out what was being said, but enough to make his stomach ice in tormented apprehension, a thousand questions tore through his mind and an overpowering sense of panic descended upon him.

I can’t do this again.  I can’t.

Harry had barely kept himself together long enough to make it back to Number 12, close it off from all outsiders other than himself and Kreacher, and have a proper panic attack.

He had come to around three days later on the floor of the bathroom that was attached to Regulus’ old room, his hands fisted in his hair, his eyes gritty, and his throat hoarse.

He had cleaned himself and the surroundings up, gone shopping for some baby toys and gone to see Teddy.

Andromeda had only allowed him an hour and they weren’t allowed to leave her sight. 

He had gone back every day for two weeks, and every day she had only let him spend an hour with Teddy and she supervised.

On the fourteenth day she had told him that he was only allowed to come once every month or she would disallow him visitation altogether.

You’re not welcome here either, Freak.

So he had stopped leaving the house at all.

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What Harry didn’t know was that Kreacher had reacted to the distress in his Master’s magic when Harry had had his panic attack and gone to Andromeda as the next member of the Black family- since Harry had reinstated her and inducted Teddy. When she taken the elf by the hand and arrived to see the tormented young man screaming on the floor of her cousin’s bathroom, entirely lost- all she could think of was that Teddy was all she had left.  So she had ordered Kreacher back to Hogwarts unless Harry specifically called for him.

Unfortunately, Harry had ordered Kreacher to follow Andromeda’s orders as if they were Harry’s own if Harry was incapacitated, and Andromeda had no idea that she had cut off the young man from the only being who could have helped him. Harry had cut off everyone from the house- no Floo, no Apparition except his own- except Kreacher, who Harry would not call since Hermione had nearly took his head off that one time he had called the little elf before she had left. 

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The road to hell is paved with good intentions, but it arrives in hell all the same.

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Which leads us back to where we started with a -far, far too old- young man leaning over a desk with parchment and ink scattered around him.

Harry’s dulled eyes roved over the words on the parchment he had been laboring over.  The Last Will and Testament of Lord Harry James Potter-Black was written in his best, most flowing script exactly three inches from the top of the Regulation Parchment that he had specifically purchased for this endeavor.

Harry’s magic was leaving him, so it wasn’t a stretch to think that he was really dying this time- and even if he didn’t he knew that he would never be able to distribute his assets- the last remaining pieces of his family, the proof that they had existed- as a squib or a muggle no matter how much Kingsley would fight for him.

So it was just under two hours later that saw him exiting Gringotts, everything finalized, sealed, and ready for the catalyst.

His death. 

Figures the only time he would belong would be when he was gone.

He had changed enough in the last half year to not be recognized by sight, and as he looked around, listening, he couldn’t make himself feel anything but sardonic amusement.

They fear that I am plotting to finish the job that Voldemort started.  What a joke.

As he made his way to the Apparition Point he was surprised to be joined by someone.  Tilting his head curiously, but otherwise ignoring the other who was walking casually by his side, he continued on his way.  As he made it to the apparition-capable area he turned to face his unlikely companion.

“Neville.”

The sandy-blonde haired Hero of Resistance was looking about as drawn as Harry felt, but the Longbottom Heir had always been physically more stalwart than the young Potter.  “Harry.” Came the quiet, tired reply, shoulders hunched, and hazel eyes so very, very tired.  “Can you Apparate us?”

Harry gave his fellow Prophecy Child a wary, but approving nod, “Take my arm.”

Neville did, and even through the fabric that separated them Harry could feel the exhaustion of the other man’s resonating with his own.

A spin on the heel, a destination firmly in mind-

Time.  Now.  Home.

Neville Longbottom and Harry Potter were declared dead a year later.

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“This isn’t Number 12.” Harry remarked dryly.

“Agreed.  The flowers are pretty though.” Neville replied cheerily.

Two young men, one far too skinny to be healthy and one far more robust but still far from healthy stood in a field of vibrant flowers, naked as the day they were born, surrounded by an endless sea and sky of green.

At this point the nakedness was the least of their issues.  Though the hues they were surrounded with were mesmerizing and breathtaking in their own right.

My little ones…….how I’ve awaited you……..finally……..

It was a voice on a nonexistent breeze, a whisper and a shout, a thousand voices all at the same time yet none actually speaking words at all. 

Both young men looked around, strangely calm- home, a joyous feeling trembled in their souls- but wary.

Neville found his voice first, “H-Hello?”  He called somewhat helplessly, hoping for some sort of clarification about what the hell was going on.

Neville and Harry exchanged exasperated looks after a heartbeat passed with no response.  “Well.”  Harry said in a voice that fell short of the nonchalant calm he was aiming for.  “I doubt we’ve been captured by Death Eaters, if that is any comfort.”

Neville snorted in amusement, but was prevented from replying as the breathless whisper rang out once again.

My children.  My chosen.  I’ve been…… waiting…………..you.

Neville and Harry exchanged- still so strangely calm it was freaky- a look. “E-er, yeah………about that.  We were under the impression that we’re the offspring of James and Lily Potter and Frank and Alice Longbottom.”

Try to explain….words…hard…..

A feeling of falling, the scent of flowers and earth, a sea and sky of green and then there were dreams.

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…………Nothingness……………….

…………. The Beginning……………

…………………The Creator’s Words shaping worlds…….

……………. His Greatest Creations……….….

…………Advent of Free Will…………

………….Choices………………

On one world the people chose to internalize their gift- the spark of Life gifted to them by their Creator….. they called it Magic........when the world was new, all could wield the Gift of the One……..

.......arrogance…….discord…..……war……….The Fall of Pride …………..

On another world, the people chose to externalize their gift-- the spark of Life gifted to them by their Creator- creating the Blood of the Planet- Lifestream………..

…………….the sinking of a shining city into oblivion……..loss………origins forgotten…….….

…….…knowledge crystallized into beautiful gems…………..gifts from those who had returned……..to never forget……….

…….an endless cycle……ages pass…..blood and death…..…..

…….a Calamity……….terror, destruction, heartbreak……….ages pass………

………………Irreparable harm…………..Certain destruction…………The loss of the Gift……………….

……..a gaping wound, unable to heal…………..origins forgotten……..discord………..war.…….the loss of the Gift………

…………..A Hidden World discovered………..the Blood of innocents………

……………the Blood of Innocents……….……A Hidden Land sought…………..the destruction of a floating city

………..The End of All Things………..

A plan, an agreement.

Choices and actions that changed everything.

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Neville and Harry awoke with pounding heads and aching, bleeding hearts.  Slowly working themselves into sitting cross legged in the field of flowers, they gazed expectantly at the seas and skies of green.

A woman emerged, dark brown hair and pretty green eyes, wearing a red dress with a purple sash.  She walked over to stand before the two young men, the children she had unknowingly condemned.

Neville and Harry stared at her with steady eyes.

“I am Ifalna.  The Planet has tasked me with explaining.”

The words were not spoken, but rather breathed into the area surrounding them, seeming much softer.  The quality was different from the voice that had called them ‘children’, so they simply leaned forward and waited expectantly.

She took a deep breath, “You were shown the history of the two worlds- the one you came from and the one you are currently on your way to.  The green around you is the Lifestream and you are here because only your souls are able to make the jump between worlds.  The flowers are the manifestation of the Planet’s power which is keeping your souls from being properly absorbed by the Lifestream.  Time is…..complicated here.  It does not exist and yet it does, this is a thousand years before, yet two thousand after.  Originally, you would have simply been returned to Gaea without remembering Earth or your time there, however circumstances have changed-”

The green around them darkened and churned, and the young men received the impression that the Planet was angry, and Ifalna winced.  Slowly she dropped to her knees in front of them, gazing down at her hands on her knees.  “You were both born to Cetra- Ancients are we are called now.  When the Planet glimpsed what was coming a deal was struck with Spark of Life on Earth- Gaea would send the soul of a Cetra to Earth to bear or father a child who would balance Magic, and upon their death they would be returned to Gaea to save her from destruction.”

Neville and Harry looked at each other when Ifalna did not immediately continue, “But something happened?”

She nodded slowly, “The soul that Gaea sent had just enough power to make it to Earth- it was a complicated task and we could not ask the Creator for help as the ruin was of our own making- but the soul had to fight against the Calamity on the way to Earth, which had been expected, but the sheer magnitude of Black Magic the soul had to cut through to make it to the other World was unprecedented.  By the time the soul recovered enough to fulfill the task, it had splintered from the strain of battle and being so far from the Lifestream, and so Lily Evans and Alice Smith were born.

While Cetra were not entirely human, they were still simply people, much like Magic users- and each had their own likes, dislikes and so on.  Thus, when the soul split each woman only received part of the whole soul- however Gaea had sent was her brightest, a soul that had existed in the Lifestream for nearly an age and the soul had picked up echoes of other souls, which is why this is such a complicated situation.  Alice received the part that craved being in contact with the Planet, which is where she received her love of gardening, her empathy and insight, were an echo of this.  Lily received the part that couldn’t stand injustice and wished to fly- some Cetra could form wings and had a deep rapport with winged animals of all kinds.  Yet, your Magic, a shard of the Gift of Earth, has followed you here when it was never intended to and it will always remain with you even though it should be impossible.

This brings me to my part of the story.

I was the last pure Cetra left on Gaea- meaning I was the last to know and understand my Origins.  I was meant to guide you when you returned.”  Ifalna, who had been looking down at her hands throughout her speech, finally looked up at the two young men, not quite meeting their eyes, “I was captured by Shinra after the Calamity had been removed from the Nothern Crater.  And when I could have escaped……..well, I had fallen in love with a man, the father of my child.  Then he was killed, and my daughter and I were captured, and I died escaping.”

The green roiled and churned and another figure emerged.  She- for the figure had breasts and hips, and multi-toned hair like freshly tilled earth, with eyes that swirled as the depths of the sea, and a tanned complexion- was wearing what seemed to be leather under armor, and seemed to be sending a sharp, piercing glance at Ifalna.

Warned you……..to run…….not…..listen……….condemned……fate…….truth!

Ifalna flinched and shrank back from the other figure, which did not move any closer than the outer reaches of the green.  Neville and Harry sat entirely still, simply trying to figure out what was happening, why it was happening, and both privately wondering when the calm would wear off so they could freak out properly.

A feeling of falling, the scent of flowers and earth, a sea and sky of green and again there were dreams.

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A young Ifalna watching her Mother perform the duties of the Watch with eager eyes, pestering the woman as to when she could begin her duties as a Watchman.

A teenage Ifalna growing angry at her Mother for refusing to allow her to teach others to hear.

Ifalna arguing and eventually leaving her mother to travel alone, firmly shunting the voice of the Planet to the deep recesses of her mind.

Traveling, teaching, laughing, learning.

Cosmo Canyon.

Secrets shared.

The voice of the Planet slowly changing- from soft pleas and gentle reminders to shouted cries and demands, then finally to sweet crooning that She was such an excellent Daughter, that She should travel, it is safe, the Calamity is encased in the thickest ice.

Her Mother’s death. 

Her Mother in the Lifestream. 

A return to her senses.

Horror.  Allherfaultdidn’tlistenhowcouldIforgetsosorry- 

The Calamity released from Her prison, poisoning the minds and hearts of those who are already lost.

Despair.  Anguish.  Begging.

HowcanImakeitright?

Forgiveness.

Returning to her post, humbled.

Gast Faremis. 

Recording her Origins.

Charming, attentive Professor Gast. 

Aerith.

Hojo.

Failure.

Capture.

Escape.

Death.

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Neville and Harry awoke-once again- with pounding heads and aching, bleeding hearts.

(Because for all they were hurt- for all they were bent and bruised and tattered and weary and wounded- they were first and foremost kind.  Kind heart wrapped in diamond resolve as they souls wept for what could have been.)

Slowly working themselves into sitting cross legged in the field of flowers, they gazed expectantly at the seas and skies of green, at the figure of the Planet, of Gaea who was Minerva who was Gaea who was the Planet, at the young woman who reminded them of Hermione Granger and everything- everyone- they had fought for and left behind.

Help you…..happiness….save…..please……..love……..

Neville turned to Harry, “Well, brother, care to save another world?”

Harry snorted bemusedly. “No cupboards.”  He pronounced faux-seriously, a mischievous light dancing behind his eyes.

Neville grinned in delight and clapped a friendly hand on Harry’s bare shoulder. “I’ve got you, little brother.”

Harry gives the other boy the look that- Harry felt- that statement deserved. “Who said you get to be the eldest this time.”  He asked with a pout.

Then the green collapsed and the flowers dissolved and the boys disappeared.

The Planet sings.

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Two boys meet in secret in an orchard in a town called Banora.  One is shorter and lithe with fiery red hair, bright teal-ringed viridian eyes; a temper to match the flame color of his hair and an aching desire to fly.  The other is tall with dark hair, bright indigo-flecked turquoise eyes, a deep sense of integrity, and a love for growing things.

The red head grabs apples from a nearby tree and tosses one to the other as they sit in the spot that has been theirs since they were small children.  The red-headed child looks at the other in bemusement and says, “Even if the morrow is barren of promises/Nothing shall forestall my return/To become the dew that quenches the land/To spare the sands, the seas, the skies/I offer thee this silent sacrifice.”

The dark-haired boy looks at his friend with a wry grin and huffs out a laugh, “Always the pessimist. How about: When the war of the beasts brings about the world's end/The goddess descends from the sky/Wings of light and dark spread afar/She guides us to bliss, her gift everlasting.”

“How very like you, my friend, to see a beginning where I see an ending.”

“To tomorrow?”

“I suppose, you ruffian.  Stupid dreams.”

 “There is no hate, only joy/For you are beloved by the Goddess/Hero of the dawn, Healer of Worlds.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere, darling.”  The red haired boy teases his friend as they methodically consume their apples.

The dark haired boy laughs around the chunk of apple in his mouth, tossing his friend a mischievous grin.  “To mucking up the plans of power hungry, soul sucking soulless husks?”  He says lightly, raising his half-eaten fruit in a salute.

“Mmm, and manipulative, senile old bastards who think they know best.”  The red-haired boys adds as they gently bump their respective appendages together before going back to eating their respective delicacies.

“To being able to live this time.”

The two boys lock eyes for a long, intense moment before breaking out into wide, exciting grins and nodding resolutely at each other.

“Cheers.”  “To living life on our terms.”

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Chapter Text

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Luna Lovegood saw things differently than most people.

For most of her life outside The Rookery, she had been ridiculed and forced to act even more dreamy than she felt in an effort to protect herself from the cruelty of a world that only saw and heard in black and white.

Then she had made friends.  She’d been so happy!  They’d even helped rescue her, even if she hadn’t been the main objective, they had taken her back to safety- even after her father had gotten them attacked.

Then the war had ended and she had glimpsed the paths of the future.  Nothing had been right.  Harry and Neville were leaving Earth, leaving her.  She had gotten friendly with others, but tired, burdened Harry and weary, strained Neville had always had time for her, even when she was more lost than usual in things that others couldn’t see, taste, smell, touch, or hear.

Then, when Harry had come to see her, she had gotten a glimpse of where they was going, and she didn’t want to remain on a world where she was friendless.  However, she also saw the ‘Death of Magic’, and she knew she didn’t have much time.

It had taken a few years, but she had crafted a ritual.

The mass of Runes and Magical Arithmetic equations sprawl over the floor, walls, and ceiling of the basement of The Rookery.  There are materials that she has gathered from all over the world scattered at key points, and all that is left is the draining of her life force- the magic within her blood. 

Luna Lovegood would not be left behind, not again, not when she could be useful to her friends this time around.

She raises the elegant Ritual Knife that has been in her family since the time of the Druids to her throat, and it glides through the flesh as if it is paper.  As her blood spills from the wound, a brilliant scarlet against her pale skin, she smiles.

Wait for me, Harry.  Wait for me, Neville.  I’m coming.

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Andromeda watched as Teddy walked away, backpack thrown over his shoulder and hand waving lazily back at her, posture relaxed but unyielding.  She had long hoped to see more of Nymphadora in him and now her daughter was all she could see, Remus would have pushed past the hurt and held on, but Nym had been entirely able to hold on to grudges.  It was the Black blood.

Teddy was never going to forgive her.

Honestly, she would never forgive herself.

Harry Potter and Neville Longbottom had been declared dead more than fifteen years ago, their Wills read, and material possessions dispersed.  Ashamedly, she and most others had been relieved.  After the Second War, Voldemort and Dumbledore had both passed, and Harry Potter was the only one who had the power and charisma to take their place- for better or for worse.  So they had attended the memorials of the two scarred young men who had given everything and moved on, secretly grateful that there were no powerhouses left who could once again tip the world into chaos.

They were probably better off, the people whispered to each other in their homes and hearts and workplaces.  Those poor lads, they had lost so much, they were so damaged, and they could have become dangerous, better to leave on a high note, the poor dears.

So the heroes of the war grew, married, and had babies- settling down to live the good life at last.

But then, years passed and nothing had truly changed.

Everything that had facilitated the first and second comings of Voldemort festered.  The Pureblood families had less influence and power, but they knew how to wield it.  If one knew what to look for you could see the framework of the old system outfitted with prettier words and purely legal practices.  No Crucios or Imperios but good working hours and attractive benefits.

Before the people realized that they had willingly given up everything that had been won in blood during the first and second comings it was too late. 

A handful of years and a bloodless revolution later and the British Wizarding World had lost all of her forward momentum.  Prettier, brighter, and humane as it was it wasn’t what the fighters had fought for- and after centuries of stagnation, war, and exodus she was dying.

The Purebloods had just started enjoying the fruits of their careful labors when it started.

Then the magical creatures- beings who were intimately entwined with magic- started dying.  No warning, no reason, just here one moment and gone the next.  Magical plants were next- they started flowering poorly and soon refused to grow at all.  Wards started corroding.  Enchanted items became inert.  Charms became moot as they would dispel nearly as soon as they were cast. Transfigurations slowly became obsolete as they refused to hold.

The Ministry tried to cover it up, alternately blamed the deceased Harry Potter and Neville Longbottom and spouted that their heroes would save them, that they wouldn’t leave the people to their fate.  Not when the Potters and Longbottoms had given everything.  The panicked Ministry had tried to access the Potter, Black, and Longbottom properties and their vaults- to see if they had done something if they could fix this-, but Harry and Neville had made their wishes unyielding and had specified harsh penalties. 

Now there is even a cult that worships Voldemort, begging him to save them.  They started sacrificing young magicals, but magic failed them and they were caught by muggles.  The Ministry by that point couldn’t get the Obliviates to hold, their wands refusing to cast the power-intensive spell, and the cultists were left to their fate, as were everyone who followed them.  Books of magic crumbled into dust, their writing lost to the earth.  Even when rewritten in normal, modern ink the words simply bled into indecipherable gibberish.

The people were lost, bereft, as frightened children seeking comfort- begging to be saved.

Only, now there was no Harry Potter or Neville Longbottom to shoulder their burdens and lead them.

Then the International Confederation of Wizards published their findings and made sure that every magical household in Britain received a copy.

Starting seven years, five months, three days and two hours after Harry Potter and Neville Longbottom’s last trace (an Apparition from Diagon Alley) of magic dispersed, magic had begun rebelling.

The ley lines were collapsing.

The ley lines.

Magic was dying.

First just in Britain, but the issue had spread all over Europe quickly, and by now it was a worldwide crisis.  Naturally spiritual areas, such as China, Japan, and Egypt were still generating magic normally, but aside from the ancient sites and the magic that they imbued unto the caretakers, everything was collapsing.

Now, a little over fifteen years after their disappearance the very last vestiges of magic were draining from the Witches and Wizards.  The ICW estimated that in another year Hogwarts would begin the final stages of deterioration, and once Hogwarts, which sat atop the thickest bundle of ley lines on the continent, fell everything else would shortly follow.

Witches and Wizards should expect their magic to stop replenishing by the New Year and within the month of January it would fade entirely.

By this time next year their race would be extinct.  Perhaps a child with a knack for knowing when a person was lying, or with the ability to predict the rain, but nothing like what they would have once been- an arrogant people brought low by their own hubris.

And those of them that were past their prime, who were existing on the longevity that came from having the internal well of power they called magic, would more than likely fade quickly.

The goblins had converted everyone’s gold before they died, deep in their tunnels- those that hadn’t died naturally being crushed when the tunnels collapsed.

But that wasn’t the worst part for Andromeda.

The worst part was that now Teddy knew that his godfather- the man she had pretended hadn’t existed when he had asked for ‘Unca’ Hawwy’ as a baby- had loved him more than the man had ever loved anything.  Harry must have sensed the storm, because he had instructed the goblins to convert all the Potter and Black gold to pounds and dollars and invest aggressively.

So, now, Teddy had an immeasurable fortune and a priceless set of letters from a broken man who loved him as one loves the only family they have left.

Harry had told Teddy everything, and when Teddy had looked in the eye and asked if Harry’s panic attack was the reason she hadn’t let Harry be alone with him anymore, she couldn’t lie.

Harry had asked Teddy to understand, but Teddy didn’t have Harry’s heart.  All he knew was that his godfather had saved the fucking world at the same age as Teddy was now and everyone had decided that taking care of the broken man who gave everything for them was too much effort.

It broiled and burnt and stung and Teddy hated them.

Hated her.

The worst part was…….

Andromeda hated herself too.

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Hermione Granger-Weasley stared out at the Hogwarts Castle Grounds.

Not that they were much to see anymore.

There had been a time when these grounds had taken Hermione’s breath away.  When the very land seemed to sing of magic, but now there was only the whisper of a funeral march.

Harry…..

Even now she couldn’t think his name without feeling a deep rush of shame.

In the aftermath of the Final Battle she’d been high off Ron returning her affections, desperate to return her parent’s memories, and relieved to not be constantly on the run from the madman who had been lurking in her best friend’s head. 

Sometimes, during their quest, she’d seen Voldemort in Harry’s eyes and it had terrified her.  She had witnessed the progressive march towards madness in her friend and she had feared that one morning she would wake and there simply wouldn’t be enough of the boy who had saved a girl he barely knew from a troll to hold the monster back any longer.

Looking back Hermione truly understood just how strong Harry Potter had been.

It didn’t change the fact that he left them, though.  He and Neville both- and now her children would never know the halls of Hogwarts as their second home because magic was dying.

The ICW was in charge of the integration into the nonmagical world and would be using the last vestiges of magic in the ley lines under Hogwarts for a massive charm to make the backgrounds for all the families in the British Isles.  The Purebloods had protested, trying to bury their heads in the sand, but the ICW had basically told them, ‘cooperate or deal with the consequences yourselves when all the magical power in the Isles is gone’.  That pretty much stopped the grumbles as most families hadn’t existed in the nonmagical world since before the Statute of Secrecy and not having magic to smooth things over would make things incredibly complicated.

Since they couldn’t preserve any of their history, whether through writing it or trying to type it on a computer from memory, they were at a loss at what to do.  They had still held classes up until the June just past, but there hadn’t been any new Purebloods in five years and there hadn’t been any new, ‘muggleborns’ in nearly a decade.  Well, anyone who had been under the age of eleven at the time of the beginning of the ‘Death of Magic’ had lost their magic, and even some older students who returned to the muggle world the following summer had lost their magic, rendering them unable to return, which had sparked the initial investigations.

It figures, she mused, as she made her was to the Headmistress’ Office for one of her final meetings before Hogwarts closed for good, that you’d take that spark with you when you left.

Be happy, Harry.

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Rose and Hugo Weasley were just ready for it to end.

Rose could vaguely remember the feeling of magic.  She had been born with it, she knew, and she could almost remember the warm, joyous feeling that used to dance just under her skin.  Rose dreamed of using a wand like all her older family members and going to Hogwarts and having adventures, like what Dad told them about when Mum wasn’t listening.

But….

Just before she turned five she had woken up colder than normal.  Rose had told her Mum that she was feeling poorly, and her Mum had told her it was probably a cold, gave her a potion and told her to rest.  But the next day she was still feeling poorly, and her parents decided to seek out a Healer. 

There had been a lot of other kids with colds there, she remembers thinking. 

When she had been called the Healer had waved their wand, asked a few questions, and then asked her to go sit in the hall while they talked to her parents.  Lollypop, (which Mum usually didn’t let her have!), in hand she had skipped out of the room obediently, unaware that her whole world was about to fall apart.

Rose had gotten better, though she felt different, and then Hugo had been born, but there was a tension in all of her older family members that she had never noticed before.  People got snappy and short-tempered as things seemed to be falling apart at the seams.  Uncle Bill and his wife, Uncle Charlie, Uncle Percy and his wife, Uncle George and his wife, and Aunt Ginny and her husband, all lost their jobs at almost the same time- like in the same month. 

It made things worse when Grandpa Arthur tried to help ‘cause was supposed to be the ‘Muggle’ expert, but he seemed to know less about them than Rose did!  It took Grandma and Grandpa Granger, (who adored Rose and her baby brother, but didn’t really like Mum or Dad, which was weird, but whatever), to help her Uncles and Aunties get the papers they needed to do their jobs in the ‘Muggle’ world, but even then it was hard for anyone to find work.

By the end of that year everyone was living at the Burrow, and that only made everything worse.

Rose had been sat down with all her cousins at Grandma Molly’s house one weekend the following summer and the kids had been told what was happening, much to Grandma’s distress. 

Things were changing, and wasn’t nonmagical school going to be a fun new adventure for them?

(Magic was dying the adults whispered when they thought the kids had gone to bed.)

They were going to try something different with this generation, homeschooling with Grandma Molly for magic, wouldn’t that be fun?

(The Magical World- their world- was ending, their parents raged behind closed doors.)

The adults were doing all they could to fix it, they were told, but only those that had already started at Hogwarts would be going.  Everyone else would be starting nonmagical school in the fall.

After that it seemed like the adults used their magic less and less, as if they were trying to get used to not having it, and when she asked why she couldn’t use magic when she knew that she used to have it or why her toy broom wouldn’t work anymore, everyone got either angry or sad, so she stopped asking.  Slowly the kids learned that the more stressed the adults got, the worse their tempers, it was trying to stay out of the way all the time as the adults tried to keep them fed, clothed, and educated.  More than one ‘Weasley Explosion’ occurred every week.

Teddy Lupin and Victorie Weasley would be the only of the younger Weasley Clan to attend Hogwarts, and Teddy would be the only one to graduate.  Victorie would go with her parents to the United States where Uncle Bill got a job as an expert in Ancient Languages. 

Dad was still working for the Ministry of Magic, but Mum had lost her job ages ago.  Uncle Charlie had finally found work as a wilderness guide just this spring.  The rest were still looking for work.  It was made worse by the cost of living in the nonmagical world being so much higher than the magical one.  Mum, when Rose was younger and still unused to things not being done by magic, had explained that nonmagical people had technology and appliances to do normal things like cook or clean, where Dad’s family had used charms, magic, and magical items, for everything for generations.  Technology, and the energy to use it, cost money every month unlike charms and the magic that powers them, she had said back then.

Rose heard her parents talking, (arguing), with Grandma and Grandpa Granger in the kitchen one night when she snuck down to get a drink of water, that Rose’s parents wouldn’t be able to afford schooling for her and Hugo without the money left to them by their friend, Harry.  Rose had asked about the legendary Harry Potter, but Dad’s face always went white with anger and Mum’s eyes started tearing up, and so that topic became almost as taboo as magic in their household.  The one time she had asked Grandma Molly the woman had sobbed and Dad had been so mad he had swatted her behind, until Mum came barreling in and dragged him off, leaving Hugo to comfort the terrified, distraught Rose.

Rose understood better now, having been in nonmagical school for a few years and living with Grandma and Grandpa Granger.

Rose had filched the paper from the trash the other day and read the ICW’s report.  The fact that everyone, save for Uncle Bill’s family, were gathered in the Burrow’s living room was a bad sign.

Rose cuddled Hugo as they waited on the couch with the rest of their cousins.

The adults all came into the room.  Aunty Andy was here too.

Rose looked around the room.

Where was Teddy?

Rose’s confused gaze landed on Aunt Andy who gave her a weak smile in return.

Something was wrong.

The adults spread around the front of the room, in front of the fireplace that used to be used to Floo up until two years ago.  Grandpa Arthur cleared his throat, “As you all are aware there is an, ah, issue with magic, yes?”

Fred II scoffed, “You mean the fact that magic is dying, Gramps?”

“Young man!” Grandma Molly snapped angrily, only to be cut off by one of the other cousins.

“It’s true!”

From there it descended into squabbling until Aunt Ginny’s voice cut through, “Enough.” She bellowed, “Let Dad speak!”

Grandpa Arthur gave his daughter a grateful nod, “As I was saying, there is an issue with magic, and by the end of the fall the charms that hold the Burrow together will begin to degrade faster than we can repair them.”

The kids fell entirely silent.  “But, Gramps, we all live here, ‘cept Uncle Bill and Uncle Ron’s families.” One of them ventured.

Grandpa nodded seriously, “Yes.  That is the issue.  We cannot continue to live here; we had thought we had a solution but…..”

“Where is Teddy?” Rose demanded, eerily reminiscent of an eleven-year-old version of her mother.

Aunt Andy sighed and most of the adults’ lips thinned in irritation.  “Teddy has chosen to take some tim-“

“He’s a bloody tosser, after all we’ve done for him, just like his glory-seeking, selfish godfath-“ Dad started, only to be cut off with a stinging slap courtesy of Aunt Andy.

“Ronald Weasley.” Aunt Andy said in a deadly cold tone, her gaze resting on Grandma Molly’s steadily reddening face, “I dare you to continue that line of thought.  Teddy is not responsible for these hardships.  Harry and Neville aren’t responsible for these hardships.  Silence.  If Teddy chooses to walk away from us, he has that right; he owes us nothing, certainly not his inheritance.  His inheritance is the only thing he has left of the godfather who we all failed after he’d saved our entire world.”  She pinned Dad and Mom with her deadly gaze, “Don’t think I don’t know that you abandoned them, Ronald.  As for you, Hermione, no amount of research gave him the resolve to willingly walk to his own death.  Harry did that, and if all you are going to do is blame a man who isn’t here to defend himself then I, and my financial aid, are leaving this instant.”

The silence was deafening.

The shame on the elder Weasley’s faces was painful to see, but it was the honest grief on Mum’s face that made Rose patter over and wrap her in a hug.

This had been the reality of the last five years of Rose Weasley’s life.

She wondered if it would have been different if Harry Potter and Neville Longbottom hadn’t disappeared.

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Teddy Lupin glanced around the rundown motel that he was staying at in disinterest.

Nothing fucking mattered anymore.

He glanced over and pulled the notebook that held his godfather’s precious letters into his lap.  At this point he had read them so many times he had them memorized, but he still read them with an intense desperation, hoping to uncover one more thing about the man that he didn’t know, get a clue as to where Harry had gone so Teddy could follow him.

Teddy loved his Gran, he really did, he just couldn’t forgive her.

He had vague recollections of a soothing male voice, a sense of comfort, safety, and home.  Before he started searching for them, he assumed them to be memories of his father, Remus Lupin, a man he had only ever seen in pictures, and he only had one picture with both his mother and father in it.

Teddy found, during his bare-and-share with his Gran after he received his inheritance that Harry had actually given it to him before the elder man had disappeared.

Then there were the fucking Weasleys.

They had been family to him growing up, been family to Harry.  They’d also fucking abandoned his godfather when Harry needed them.  Family didn’t do that shit.  Teddy felt the anger and the loathing trying to rise up and desperately pushed it down as his eyes pricked with tears.  Teddy had spent years in their home, counted their kids as his little brothers and sisters even though he never felt like he fit in, like they were always judging him; because his clothes were nicer, that his Gran owned their house, and that he was able to attend Hogwarts.

Never mind that Teddy had lost everyone but his Gran, that Uncle Harry had made sure that Teddy took summer classes so he’d be ready to manage his estate, (even though Teddy thought that his Gran had arranged them until he’d received his inheritance), and that Teddy had to double time his schoolwork to be able to pass the requirements that Harry had set to access the full estate.

No, they’d tried to get him to help them transition, as if he fucking owed them shit.

Tears began to make their way down his cheeks, betraying the inner turmoil of the young man’s thoughts.

Is this how you felt, Uncle Harry?  Is this why you disappeared?  Will this feeling of betrayal ever leave me?  I know they weren’t using me for money, and that they have their pride and asking for help hurt them, but it still fucking stings- the way they reacted.  Mrs. Weasley had sometimes made subtle digs that I never understood until now- about mum, and how she got pregnant out of wedlock.  About dad and his being a Werewolf, about Gran and the Blacks, even about you!  Ron wasn’t much better, and the other never said anything, but they never stopped the others either.

Teddy might be angry at Harry too, but Harry had written in his final letter that his magic was acting up, and he wasn’t sure what would happen.

And……

Teddy’s thoughts drifted to the shimmering crimson potion sat innocently in his travel pack and the letter that accompanied it.

Dear Teddy,

I don’t know how old you will be when you read this, or even if you’ll want anything to do with me.  But I remember how I felt when I found out about Sirius being my godfather. 

There is no one who can take the place of Remus Lupin, your father.  He was a brilliant, kind, gentle soul who didn’t deserve the life that was given him.  (Though he did occasionally need a good kick in the pants to get over himself.)  Your mother was a vivacious young woman who would have been your best friend and worst enemy, (I didn’t know Tonks well, but she could inspire terror on the battlefield, and she knows every trick in the book, because she’s tripped over them all), and I wish I could have known them better, at least Andy can tell you stories of Tonks.

What I mean to say, Teddy, is that I love you, even if I can’t be there with you, and I hope that you’re happy and safe, that you find love, (girl or boy, as long as they’re consenting and you’re happy, I don’t care, little imp), and that you live a long, full life.

But, if something happens to me, I want you to have this.  It’s a Blood Adoption Potion, and I’ve added the needed components.  It’s still viable because of the containment method, (Goblins are master craftsman, the container will lose its enchantment when it has served its purpose), and you have no obligation to take it, but I was always going to offer you this option.

Like I said, I remember the feeling of not wanting to forget my parents, but I wanted Siri to be my Papa.  Siri and I talked about it, but we never got the chance to make it official.

So, Teddy, what I mean is that- if you want- you can take the potion, and it won’t erase Tonks or Remus or their rightful role in your life, but it will add me as your godparent, your Papa.

It’s entirely your choice Teddy, and I will love you the same either way.

I just had the opportunity taken from me, and just in case I want to make sure the same doesn’t happen to you.

All my love, little imp,

-Uncle Harry

The words rang in his head, as they had since the first time he’d read them.  Gran had freaked out when he’d told her, because it might conflict with his Metamorph abilities that he’d inherited from his mother.

Teddy knew he was being unreasonable and dramatic, but he just felt so betrayed and furious.

Especially since he’d read the ICW report, and noted the way they had traced the crash of magic back to Harry and Neville Longbottom’s vanishing act.  He could hear the accusations from here.

Teddy sighed, slumping in exhaustion.  I’m so tired.  So fucking tired of half-truths while the world burns around me.  They fed us just enough about the ‘Death of Magic’ situation to keep us from poking deeper until it was too late.  I would have just gone to nonmagical school if I had known, but Hogwarts needed students to keep the Professors paid.  Including Professor Weasley, our Transfiguration instructor until this past June, even though Transfigurations had stopped holding together at all outside of areas of high-magic concentration like Hogwarts.  Not that they told us, the students, that, just raised the Age of Majority to eighteen, even though the Ministry no longer had the magical power to track under aged magic.

Fucking hypocrites!

Teddy would follow his godfather’s example and set his shit straight.  Then he’d wait and see what the New Year brought, as he had a sinking feeling that Gran wouldn’t last long after magic left her for good, but he couldn’t deal with her right now, not when she was trying to alleviate her own guilt by helping them.

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Chapter Text

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They were almost there- to the port city that would take them to Midgar and Shinra- and they had made it mostly unharmed and not-arrested.

Mostly due to Angeal’s efforts in keeping Genesis from tossing people who annoyed him overboard.  That it had happened to a particularly nasty ponce who insulted Genesis’ hair at the beginning of the trip was beside the point as no one had actually seen Genesis push the idiot. so the boat ride was still considered a ‘win situation’ in the dark-haired teenager’s opinion.   Judging by the smirk playing on Genesis’ mouth the red-head had been extra obnoxious on purpose to keep Angeal from obsessing about the SOLDIER entrance exams they were heading towards.

Sighing as his friend joined him in leaning on the ship’s railing and watching the shore glide closer, Angeal thought back on their journey thus far.

They had left Banora a year ago this past spring- as it was currently late summer- traveling around the Mideel Islands and finding the rich Materia Caves on the northern tip of the continent.  Materia use was different from their Earth Magic, they had found- oil and water, almost.  It was it their Gaea Mana and their Earth Magic danced around each other but refused to blend. 

They had spent nearly three months camped near and in the caves, searching around the caves looking for naturally formed Materia orbs and experimenting with their Gaea Mana and the more familiar Earth Magic, trying to see how to combine the two and what the limits were.  It was frustrating, uncharted territory for both boys, but their successes were worth the toil.

They hadn’t had any luck making a focus for their Earth Magic, but they could apply crude glamour charms.  It wouldn’t hold up to an actual Earth Magic user’s viewpoint at least both Genesis and Angeal could spot flaws- but all their tests and experiments showed that they held up against Gaea Mana users.  They usually applied crude Glamours on themselves before entering towns- they did need supplies every once in a while- or highly populated areas, as they knew Dr. Hollander was probably unhappy with their little impromptu world tour and was more than likely having the Turks keep a ‘discreet’ eye out for them.

The Planet- Mother- had guided them in their Materia experimentation, whispering the uses the people had found for them in recent years into their minds as they collected the beautifully dangerous orbs..  Jade orbs for Magic.  Crimson orbs for summoning Heroes of Old.  Turquoise orbs for Support Spells.  Fuchsia orbs for Independent Effects.  Saffron orbs for Battle Commands.  Of course, like any good Mother, she also whispered long-forgotten uses in their ears.  How to use ‘useless’ shards of Materia to make lights or a clean, smokeless heat source and even how to ‘talk’ to the orbs so they could perform to the fullest.  Long, forgotten knowledge that She had kept, patiently waiting for someone who wanted to listen.

The original Cetra had known these things, but then the Calamity had come, and with Her monsters had begun to plague the Planet’s surface, necessitating the Cetra to invent offensive uses from the Materia.  By the time the Calamity had been sealed away the Cetra had been utterly decimated and weary. Even with the defeat of their Enemy, the number of Cetra dwindled to the point where they could just barely remember enough of their Origins to hear the Planet well enough to perform the vital duties to the Calamity’s seal.

So much had been lost to the Calamity From the Skies.

From the caves they had leisurely traveled back through the islands, fighting monsters and learning magic as they went.  Eventually they had made it to the largest island and the Planet had whispered insistently that they make their way to a Cetra Temple.  Having spent five months practicing Magic, they were able to bypass the need for a key, navigate the annoying tunnels, and retrieve the Black Materia that Mother had wanted.  She had explained that the Black Materia summoned a Meteor and had been created as a failsafe, but knowing that the Calamity would know where it was as the Temple had been built to safeguard it, She wanted it removed.

An entirely reasonable course of action, really.

Granted, the ridiculous woman hadn’t mentioned that the whole place would come down on their heads about two seconds after they retrieved the stupid thing.

Thank Magic that Genesis had managed that panicked Apparition and they hadn’t ended up on an entirely different world!  It had, however, taken them nearly a week to recover from the measly sixty-mile apparition jump, and Genesis had needed to borrow some of Angeal’s Magic to make sure they both made it with all their parts.

They had wrapped the Materia in a silk cloth they scavenged off a monster and headed towards the Northern Continent.  They had gotten a lot of practice using Earth Magic in clunky defensive wards and in broad, inelegant spells, but they still needed to find a way to craft a focus to channel the magic so they could do delicate spell work and not waste a ton of energy.  Their Magic was about where it had been before they left Earth, but with having two sources inside them- one for the Gaea Mana and one for their Earth Magic- their reserves did not replenish quickly- oftentimes not even overnight- so they needed to find a way to stop being so wasteful.

Having just caused a major natural disaster and wanting to avoid attention,-especially of Shinra and the Turk variety- they had made their way towards the coast, hopped a cargo ship, and made for the town of Gongaga.  It had been deep into winter at that point but the coastal town was ‘hotter than Ifrit’s fire!’ as Genesis had often complained.  They had traded bits and bobs in at the local store, snapped up some rations, refilled their canteens- they had decided that the moment they got working Magic focuses they were charming their canteens, rationing water sucked- and headed out.

Naturally, as soon as they were comfortably out of town and into their comfortable travelling banter that was when they had head a terrified scream and their old ‘saving people thing’ had made a comeback.  They had run through the jungle terrain with relative ease, their hard work of the last several months paying dividends, bursting into the clearing where they heard the scream from just a few minutes after they had heard it.  They instinctively separated, Angeal going to plant himself solidly in front of the cowering, terrified black-haired, tanned woman who was curled protectively around something and Genesis continuing towards the Mako-mad monster that had been advancing towards her without even breaking his stride.

The monster wasn’t that much of a challenge to a teenager who had been fighting creatures like it for several months already, so it was over in moments.  Sheathing his cheap sword after giving it a quick wipe-down, Genesis made his way back towards his friend, who was kneeling beside the woman they had saved.  She had moved to sit cross-legged and was rocking a dark-haired baby on her lap, trying to soothe him as he sang the song of terrified children everywhere.

Which meant that he was screaming his head off in an effort to convey his extreme displeasure.

“There, there.”  The woman cooed unsteadily at the little dark-haired child as she wiped his chubby cheeks and tried to smile reassuringly, “These nice boys took care of the bad monster, it’s all gonna be alright now, baby.”  Pulling him closer to her worn cotton dress she settled her baby at her collarbone and ran soothing circles on his back as she addressed her rescuers, “I can’t thank you boys enough!  I don’ know what we woulda done if’n ya’ll hadn’t come along when you did!”

Angeal just offered her a reassuring smile from where he was crouched across from her, happy little crinkles forming around his eyes as he replied. “Glad we could help, ma’am.”

Genesis grinned cockily at her from where he was standing a few steps behind, tossing his bright hair out of his eyes, before adding cheekily. “My friend, your desire/Is the bringer of life, the gift of the goddess.”

The woman blinked owlishly at the fire-haired teenager while Angeal huffed a laugh and stood, his family’s Buster Sword nearly touching the ground behind him.  “Ignore him, ma’am, he fancies himself to be an intellectual gentleman.”

Genesis puffed up in offended indignation, crossing his arms and affixing a pout firmly on his lips. “Forgive my friend, he has no appreciation for literary magnificence.”

Angeal tossed his friend an exasperated look, throwing his hands up in a silent plea for patience. “Maybe I would be more inclined to if you wouldn’t quote the entire poem at least eight times a day.  Twelve on Wednesdays.”

Genesis opened his mouth to deliver a scathing reply, but was cut off by giggles.  Snapping his mouth shut he and Angeal both looked forward to see that the child had apparently calmed and found their banter amusing.  The mother didn’t look to know whether to be amused or hush the baby, but Angeal’s smile just got a touch fonder and Genesis’ smile grew a bit self-satisfied.  After a few more moments Angeal offered his hand to the woman and helped her stand. “Would you like us to escort you back to the road, ma’am?”

The woman smiled at them in relief. “If it’s not too much trouble, thank you.”

They escorted the woman back to the road, chatting lightly and entertaining the bright eyed baby in her arms.  As they went to part ways she suddenly stopped.  “Oh, my!  I’m still so rattled from that monster I forgot my manners!  My Ma would take her rolling pin to my backside if she knew I’d been so rude to such brave boys!  I’m Korra, Korra Fair, and this is my baby, Zacky.”  The baby apparently knew he was being talked about because he gave a toothy smile and let his Momma wave his chubby little arm at their rescuers.  “I know you’re headed out, but can I get you anything?  Some supper maybe?  I know the Old Man will be home soon and I know he’d like to meet you brave boys!  There aren’t ever anything other than Touch-Me’s so close to town!”

Angeal shook his head but offered her a kind smile. “It’s alright, we forgot our manners too, ma’am.  I’m Angeal Hewley and the poetry machine-“

“Oi!” Genesis puffed up, eyes wide, mouth agape- the very picture of offended pride.

“-is Genesis Rhapshodos, it was a pleasure to meet you both, but we need to get moving.” Angeal continued, blithely ignoring his friend’s outrage.

Genesis shot Angeal another sour look before composing himself and turning to their companions, bowing lightly. “It was our pleasure, ma’am, but we actually do need to get moving.  It was very nice to meet you and your son!”

The woman looked rather disappointed, but let them go with well wishes on their travels.

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She would tell the story about the two teenage boys who saved her and her baby for no other reason than the fact that they could to anybody who would listen, and when Shinra finally showed up to respond to the threat of a Mako-mad monster a week later they would be informed that it had been taken care of by a passer-by.

And when, nearly a decade later, young Zack Fair would bring in the weekly newspaper, his mother would gasp in surprise when she saw her rescuers on the front page and when her son asked what was so exciting, she would sit him on her lap and point to the pictures of Angeal Hewley and Genesis Rhapshodos and tell the story again.

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Yet once again the road to Hell is paved with only the best of intentions, but it arrives in Hell all the same.

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Angeal and Genesis had made their way out of Gongaga, passing by the Mako reactor that made them nearly physically ill, they knew what the blasted things did to Mother, how they drained Her Blood, but they were following the Plan and pushed forward. 

At least until Genesis stopped and made his way past the reactor, sliding down behind a tree that still stood roughly a half mile from the reactor itself, hand pressed firmly to the ground, eyes shut tightly, and brow furrowed in concentration.  Angeal, having seen a few of these episodes already on this journey as Genesis was much more sensitive to Materia, eased into a comfortable seated position and prepared to wait for what this was to resolve itself.

It took nearly an hour, muttered curses, threats, snarls, and more than one quotation of, “My soul, corrupted by vengeance/Hath endured torment, to find the end of the journey/In my own salvation,” before Genesis made a small, delighted sound before casually chucking something in Angeal’s direction.

Angeal caught the small projectile barehanded and nearly dropped it immediately afterwards.  “A Summon Materia?  Really you prat!  You don’t just chuck one of those at someone’s head unexpectedly!”

Genesis merely gave Angeal a slow, satisfied smirk and unfurled from his sitting position like a contented cat.  “There is no hate, only joy/For you are beloved by the goddess.”

Angeal rolled his eyes at his friend and stood up as well, they needed to get a move on before someone saw them and started asking questions- or started shooting first and asking questions while they were strapped to a lab table.

Shinra was flexible like that.

As they meandered down the road Angeal send a tendril of his Gaea Mana towards the tiny orb.  Hello?  Uhm, I’m not really sure how this works, but I am Angeal Hewley, which Hero are you, may I ask?

Greetings, I am the Summon Titan, Cetra.  It has been an age since I was last greeted properly.

Well, glad I could be a decent person, I guess.  From what Mother says, Summon Materia are the soul impressions of Heroes of Old, it would be an honor to call you my ally, Lord Titan.

Haha!  Truly, this is an auspicious day!  If you feel the need to use a title, mine was ‘Master’ when I was a person, Cetra Hewley, feel free to call upon me in your time of need.

Just Angeal is fine, Master Titan, thank you.

Very well, Angeal.  Until we may fight as allies.

Mhm, until then, Master Titan.

Angeal cut the tendril of Mana and glanced at a curious Genesis, “He identified himself as the Summon Titan, he prefers to be called Master Titan.”

Genesis grinned at his friend, “Infinite in mystery is the gift of the Goddess.”

“Yeah, he’s pretty awesome, thanks Gen.”   Thank you, Mother.

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“Man, this just looks like it is going to suck.” Angeal sighed in defeated apprehension as he eyes the Ancient Forest that sprawled out beneath them.

“Pride is lost/Wings stripped away, the end is nigh.”

Angeal sighed, they had found- Mother had sent, actually- two Green Chocobos to them shortly after they started out the second morning after Gongaga, and the blasted birds had brought them to the most demented section of wildlife this side of Hogwarts Greenhouse #8.  Judging by the look of distaste on Genesis’ face, the red-head was feeling about as enthused as he was about this location.  “Well, let’s get this over with, then.”

Genesis exhaled despondently from beside him, “My friend, the fates are cruel/There are no dreams, no honor remains/The arrow has left the bow of the goddess.”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

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It wasn’t as bad as they thought it would be.

It was worse.

The Slash-All Materia, the Apocalypse Sword, the Materia containing Typhoon-the-sarcastic-jerk, and the Minerva Band did not warrant thirteen days in that bee-infested, freaky hellhole of a forest in their humble opinion.

Yet, still, they survived, and now Apocalypse was equipped with the Slash-All Materia- along with a few others that they had found in the Materia Caves back on the Mideel Islands- and was strapped securely to Genesis’ back in a leather harness they had made at the Gold Saucer. 

The trip to the Golder Saucer had been equal parts recuperation and the pressing need to dump some of their inventory.  While the bags they used had magic woven into them that allowed them to carry much more than should fit into the medium-sized packs, they were far from being Hermione’s Undetectable Expansion Charm-ed clutch.

Fortunately for them, there had been a traveling craftsman there who had wanted to trade them for some of the rare crap they picked up in that freaky hellhole.  The man did a nice job on the harness and even fixed up the one Angeal used for the Buster Sword.  Later they’d like to get magnetized harnesses, but the leather ones were sufficient for the moment.

The Minerva Band they had secreted away, wanting to gift it to Ifalna’s daughter, Aerith, at some point in the future once they arrived in Midgar.    

After recuperating from their misadventure in the Ancient Forest, they leisurely moseyed their way towards the Nibel Mountains, on the backs of the Green Chocobos that Mother had sent them.  In retrospect they figured that She had been bribing them as She had wanted the Cetra-forged Apocalypse retrieved. 

Nibelheim, the small village nestled at the base of the Nibel Mountains, was about as welcoming to them as Molly Weasley would be to Bellatrix LeStrange, so they didn’t stay long, backtracking across the continent towards Costa del Sol, as they had zero desire to visit Rocket Town with its overpowering Shinra presence, causing them to cut their stay short and set out from the quaint town rather quickly.

As they were coming to the most important part of their travels, they decided that they wanted to keep their presence as quiet as possible, which meant finding a suitably low-key ship to take them to the Northern Continent instead of one of the more popular cruise lines or the like.  Due to their picky discretion, it was nearly March when they docked on the Northern Continent, having spent most of the voyage spent tending the Green Chocobos in the belly of the ship as even if they could run on water, it was far too great a distance for them to run. 

That, and the crew they had hired were far happier and less likely to toss them into the ship’s fish hold when the crew didn’t have to dodge either Genesis or Angeal as they went about their normal routines.

Once they disembarked and bid the tetchy crew goodbye the two teens made their way to Icicle Inn, but they did not stay long as they knew from Ifalna that Gast had had a laboratory under the Inn and Hojo was aware of its existence.

The Chocobo Sage- with whom they bartered the safe housing of the two Greens, as where they were headed was no place for the two Chocobo- was an old nutter who reminded the teenagers of Luna.  The thought of Luna being the ‘Snorcack Sage” entertained them and helped keep their spirits up throughout the bitter nights of camping in the inhumane cold of the Northern Continent.  Eventually they made their way to the back side of the Crystal Forest.  At that point they were, tired, grumpy, freezing even with shard of Fire Materia and roughly-cast Warming Charms, so after two hours of fruitless searching for a Lunar Harp Genesis had a temper control incident.

“That’s it!” The red-head ranted, face pale with the cold, but slowly darkening with an angry flush. “Even if the morrow is barren of promises/Nothing shall forestall my return/To become the dew that quenches the land/To spare the sands, the seas, the skies/I offer thee this silent sacrifice.” Here the red head planted his feet, threw out his hands and glared defiantly at the Forest. ” Accio Maxima Lunar Harp!”

There was a few seconds of heavy silence.

“Uhm, Gen?  I don’t think that’s an actual spell.  And we haven’t gotten Accio to work at all yet, anyways.”  Angeal tried gently, somewhat concerned with the pallor of Genesis’ face.

Genesis whirled on Angeal, cheeks darkening alarmingly, eye wide, mouth twisted in a dangerous snarl. “My soul, corrupted by vengeance-“

That was as far as he got before Angeal’s eyes widened in alarm and the dark-haired boy try to call out a warning.

But it was too late.

Around fifteen minutes later Genesis regained consciousness to see Angeal grinning at him from across a Materia Shard Pit.  Genesis opened his mouth to launch into a scathing diatribe but he stopped short at the sight in front of him.

Or rather at the neat piles of ‘broken’ and ‘not broken’ Lunar Harps in front of him.

“It worked!” Angeal pointed out cheerfully. “There is no hate, only joy/For you are beloved by the goddess.”

Genesis felt his eyebrow twitch. “My soul, corrupted by vengeance/Hath endured torment, to find the end of the journey.”

“Think you can manage to shrink them?”

“Ripples form on the water's surface/The wandering soul knows no rest.”

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It turned out, Genesis hadn’t been able to shrink them, but Angeal got into the swing of things and between the two of them they managed.

They took all the Harps to the Forgotten Capital, just in case.  Once they figured out how to make a proper focus for their Magic, they would put Intent Wards on the Harps, place them in a box, put Intent Wards on the box, and then bury them randomly around the edges of the Forest.

The Forgotten Capital was a sight to behold.  Many buildings were intact, furniture still stable and everything.  Angeal and Genesis picked a decent house and retrofit it with Materia Shards.  It took about a week, but they had quite the cozy bachelor pad.  Electricity, warm water, indoor plumbing, and toasty, glorious heat- it was pretty much paradise after roughing it for so long.

The green crystals around the City also made it much easier to hear Mother, and it only took them a day of standing there in the freezing cold like idiots to get the idea of bringing a good-sized crystal into the house.  After that, they could have much longer conversations.

One thing that they asked early on was why the people didn’t use Materia Shards.  They hadn’t seen an evidence of such a thing anywhere- as far as most were concerned Materia Shards were useless.  There had been Cetra in the Watch until just a few years ago, and they could communicate with the Cetra in the Lifestream with the massive crystal beneath the city if they couldn’t use the smaller ones on the surface, so why had all the knowledge been lost?

The Planet sounded so sad and lonely when they asked- they could tell that She was heartbroken- and they had hurried to tell Her that they were sorry for causing Her pain and that She did not have to answer, but She chose to relay the story as best She could.

They found that their connection to the Planet was actually much more acute than almost any other Cetra born after the arrival of Calamity From the Skies.  Not long after the Meteor struck the Cetra investigated, and shortly after that unrest began to grow among the normally peaceful race.  In time they discovered that the Calamity wasn’t just a rock, but an intelligent organism that could bury Herself deep into the flesh, learn everything about them, and then twist their minds and ideals to suit the Betrayer’s purpose.

The Calamity’s most successful ploy was in mimicking the Cetra’s connection to the Planet.  Once the Cetra truly began to realize how underhanded and ruthless their enemy was that the Calamity was the one behind the unrest that had begun to grow among them, they became fearful of the Planet’s voice. 

It started out slowly, unintentionally, but in their vigilance against the Calamity’s manipulations a deep fear that the voice was not the Planet, but the Betrayer began to take root among the Cetra.  It intensified over time- that fear- as the Cetra watched- over and over again- as friends, brothers, sister, lovers fought against each other, each thinking that they were in the right- only to dissolve into the Lifestream upon their deaths and find that both sides of the conflict were manipulated. 

Then- if that had not been bad enough- when the bodies faded into the Lifestream the Calamity’s material was left behind and seeped deep into the Planet’s surface- infecting Her animals and plants and creating monsters.   

Within a decade nearly every remaining Cetra had a healthy dose of fear of whether or not what they were hearing was the Planet or the Calamity.  Some faded into the ranks of the Humans, others continued their vigilant watch, and the Cetra eventually managed to seal their foe away.   But over time the true depth of the connection- and all the knowledge that Gaea held for her Children- was left unfulfilled as no matter how or what She tried the people could not hear.

Then Ifalna had turned away from Her.  And even though Ifalna had eventually come back to Her- and She had been so happy when Ifalna birthed precious, priceless Aerith- so much potential had been lost and the future was so dark and She wailed at the losses that were to come-

-then She had retrieved Her Children, and while She wept for their suffering, She rejoiced when She realized that they were not afraid of Her voice. 

Harry Potter had had a madman in his head once; he knew the signs, the way it felt when there was an usurper influencing him, trying subvert his will.  Neville Longbottom might not have been the brightest academic, but one does not lead a Resistance against foul creatures who hold nothing sacred without learning to protect your mind.

Then Harry Potter was reforged as Genesis Rhapshodos and Neville Long bottom was reforged as Angeal Hewley and Her future became brighter.

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They stayed at the Forgotten Capital until June, and in that time they finally managed to craft foci for their Magic.

Only their determination to see their self-appointed project for the Mother through facilitated the creations, however.

It had started simply.

They had gone under the City to clear out the room containing the giant crystal. 

It took practically a week to just to tidy the cavern, and even then the pool of water was filthy and the area around it was rough, bare earth- hardly a place for a conversation, they had decided and Mother’s laughed had run through their minds.

It’s fine, darlings.

Angeal and Genesis would not be dissuaded, however. 

So Angeal tilled the earthen floor of the cavern, gathered fresh earth from the Forest, and broke into the seeds that he had gathered on their travels. Genesis crafted a pump for the fountain, engraved Runes to let in sunlight, warmth, and went to gather shards of trees from the Forest to place in the bottom of the fountain as decoration.  Well, decoration as well as being additional surfaces for him to etch Runes.

In another week, there were plants and flowers everywhere.  Sunlight filtered through the cavern even though there were no holes anywhere in the ceiling or walls, and the entire cavern was warm, relaxing, and welcoming.

There was only one issue.

The pool of water- which was actually a spring that came from deep within the Planet, making the water a reflection of Mother’s heart- was still dirty, even after all the times they had cleaned it.

Mother murmured that it was alright, they could take care of it later, but they wanted to do this for Her.  They hadn’t always appreciated their past lives on Earth or even the lives they had on Gaea, but at least they had each other- brothers to the end.  And it was kind of nice to know that even though She was too big to truly understand them or know what they needed as people and even though to their human hearts She was selfish and cold sometimes- She was Mother and they could feel Her warmth and Her heartbeat singing through every living thing on the Planet- and-and- well, they loved Her. 

So, they took another week, carving every variation of ‘purity’, ‘cleanse’, and ‘renew’ or ‘rebirth’ that they could think of onto even more shards of trees that Genesis deemed ‘pretty enough’ to be added as decoration. 

(Even though Harry had never taken Ancient Runes at Hogwarts, being a hermit with no source of entertainment, and being fascinated by languages gives you a half-arsed reason to get out of your bed, there were plenty of runes, while Neville had learned Runes at the behest of his Gran.)

After that third week they were annoyed to find that they wasn’t any marked difference.  The water was still murky- the water should be clear like the Spring melt that runs off the mountains.  This was water from Mother’s heart.

Disheartened, but not defeated, they tried again.

The next two weeks were spent painstakingly carving Arithmetic equations to complement all the Runes they had drawn and arranging them exactly on the bottom of the spring and along the sides of the of the basin that served as the holding area.  The hole that led to the depths of the Planet- the water filled the basin and then circled around in a small track before exiting into a covered drain that connected to the city proper- was covered with a carved grate, the fountain had Runes and Arithmanic Equations, and both teens decided that if this attempt didn’t work they were just going to call it a bad deal and blow the stupid thing up.

They checked and rechecked their work, but the water refused to shine with Magic or sing with Magic.

“I know we said we’d blow it up.”  Angeal told the frustrated Genesis slowly as they both glared at the uncooperative water.  “But now I just really want to win.”

“There is no hate only joy.”  Genesis had muttered before storming off to their brainstorming notebook and taking another look at their equations and Runic Sequences.

So, they tried one more time.

Runes inlaid with Materia Shards, Arithmetic Formula, and complementary Material Equations.

Two final weeks of work, on top of the two before it, the one before that, the one to grow the plants, and the one to clean.

Nothing.

Sighing in frustration, and thoroughly dispirited, Angeal stood beside his brother, staring into the pool as he spoke. “I just don’t get it, everything should be perfect.  It should be the purest pool in all of Gaea.”

Genesis stared hard into the depths, there was something he was missing and it was on the tip of his tongue and it was driving him mad.

“-I mean, what’s next, blood sacrifices?”  Angeal continued to grouch irritably, “I mean it’s not as if we-“

“That’s it!” Genesis shouted, springing to his feet, catching Angeal by the shoulder, and staring deeply into his brother’s eyes.  “That’s what we’re missing!  My friend, your desire/Is the bringer of life, the gift of the goddess.”

Angeal gave Genesis a wide-eyed look, more than a little disturbed by the fanatical gleam in the other teenager’s eyes. “Uh, Gen, I think-“

Genesis shook his head sharply, “No, no, ‘Geal, listen!  I didn’t get it until you said that, but it’s not bad- we just haven’t seen the entire picture!  Legend shall speak/Of sacrifice at world's end/The wind sails over the water's surface/Quietly, but surely.  Seven weeks of work, five segments of time, three elements- what’s missing?”

Angeal’s eyes widened. “Two of the same- to form the base, the dual prime- the only odd even number.”

Genesis’ eyes glinted in satisfaction.  “So.”

Angeal grinned. “So.”

As one they turned, slicing their dominate hands with hastily grabbed pointy objects, as they pulled their Magic and Mana to the fore, right hands directly in front of them over the water, but parallel to their hearts, blood sluggishly filling their palms, but not overflowing just yet.

“Seven weeks have we labored, five times of toil, three aspects of binding, we offer our shared blood as payment.” Genesis began, trying to push his everything into this ritual.

Angeal continued, matching his brother’s offering. “In this Ritual of Sanctification may these waters find renewal, may they be forever set apart, may they stay unsullied for as long as our hearts long for Mother’s voice.”

“Blood to blood.”  “Blood to blood.”

As one they knelt before the pool, turning their hands over and plunging them into the water while pushing every last drop of their Magic, Mana, and will into the desire to see their Mother’s waters cleansed.

There was a panicked cry, a thousand shattering lights, and then darkness.

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Coming to with one’s head lodged awkwardly against stone was not enjoyable.  Angeal moaned in displeasure, opening his eyes into tiny slits, and sluggishly twisting around so that his back was against the stone and his head found some measure of relief.  Terrible as he felt it’s no wonder that he didn’t really notice that his hand had been in still been in the water until that point, or that the cavern held nearly five times as many plants and flowers than it had earlier.

Beside him he head Genesis whimper pitifully. “Did we find Firewhiskey?” The red-haired teen slurred pitifully, following Angeal’s lead and ungracefully twisting to lay with his back against the stone, but not daring to open his eyes at all.

“Ughn.” Angeal replied eloquently.

“When the war of the beasts brings about the world's end/The goddess descends from the sky.”

Angel opened an eye wider and glanced at Genesis. “You must feel truly terrible to only say those two lines, you almost always recite the verse.”  He managed to rasp out.

“Stuff it, Hewley.”

HAHAHAHA

“Ouch!” Angeal yelped, clapping his hands over his ears, Genesis following suit beside him, both whimpering pathetically.

Sorry, darlings……My beautiful, ridiculous boys…………you did so well…..I barely…….to form….words….to you…….

Slowly uncurling from their fetal positions, they gazed around the formerly barren cavern in unmitigated awe.

Before them lay a sea of colors- in fact the sea turned into a sky as well, covering every surface of the cavern- including the ceiling!  While Angeal had been able to coax a decent amount of flowers and a few plants to grow, it looked like every single one of them had at least five better, healthier duplicates made in the time they had been unconscious.

Stumbling to their feet they turned around and their breaths caught in the throats and their hearts froze in their chests.

For there, where there had been a dirty pool of nearly-stagnant water stood a fountain of purity.  The water glowed with a secret light and happily reflected all the colors surrounding it.

Then they realized that even though She wasn’t speaking, they could nearly hear Mother’s feelings.  They were clear and sharp in a way that they had never been before.

Was this the kind of connection that the pre-Calamity Cetra had had with Her?

They could feel Her hum in pleasure.

Spring……connects………heart………….my boys…….sacrifice………Calamity fighters……in……blood …….....stronger………fight better………thank you………proud………scared me…….not again……….understand…………..

Angeal and Genesis grinned at each other in exhausted, exultant triumph and made their way to the home for a proper rest- and some food.  They were starving.

The next few days the two teens lazed about, before finally getting around to making a couple of benches to put in the cavern.  It was on one of these trips they found the two slender sticks floating in the top of the pool, and when they picked them up they actually got a response.

From their Earth Magic.

Score.

After that it was a whirlwind of preparation, charming the Harps, laying the foundations to charge up so they could try to erect Wards for the entire City, making a special Ward for the chamber, and, lastly, putting a Confundus Charm on the Black Materia, then putting it in a box, and putting a Notice-Me-Not Charm on the box, then burying the box deep within the cavern.

Well, their Charms turned out more like Wards- as the classes of Charms those spells fell under, when overpowered, were more akin to a Ward when cast properly, albeit with too much power- as they couldn’t control the amount of magic they used very well.  They weren’t overly concerned, however, as the spells still held and did what they had wanted and simply carved Runes to help loop the magic and keep it from dissipating on the stones at bottom of the small raised bed of flowers they planted over the top of the hiding place.

The Harps had gotten the two teen’s best approximation of an Intent Ward tied with a modified Locking Charm that would hopefully keep out anyone with the Calamity’s taint or those with equally malicious intentions.

The rest of their time passed quickly, and while the City wouldn’t be boasting Hogwarts-level Wards anytime soon, there were layers of Charm-Wards that got progressively more overpowered as one made their way through that would- hopefully- work until they could come up with some proper Ward schemes.

It wasn’t a perfect scheme, but hopefully it would be enough until they got better with their new foci.

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Sephiroth- no last name- stood rigidly in line with the other SOLDIER Third Class members, painfully aware of the divide between himself and everyone else.  It was Registration Week and he was part of the ‘dog and pony’ show.

He had been ‘socialized’ frequently by his ‘Father’, but Hojo was always disappointed by his lack of charisma.  Sephiroth’s face showed nothing, but he mentally cringed at the memories of the ‘experiments’ he had undergone as a result of his ‘failures’.

Passively he noticed the entrance of a rather broad-shouldered dark-haired teen and the shorter, more petite red-haired teen behind him.  The two were grinning and joking in the intimate way that those that had associated from childhood shared, but he absently noted that the usual signs of competition and petty rivalry were absent, which stuck him as odd as he usually observed those things in even the closest relationships at their age.

Hormonal imbalances, especially noticeable during puberty, may cause impairment to judgment and can negatively affect interpersonal relationships due lack of impulse control, he mentally recited as the room was called to order and the intake ceremony began.

He stood through the speeches on autopilot and noted that the names of the two were Angeal Hewley and Genesis Rhapshodos as they were called out for the basic assessments.

Sephiroth caught the eye of the red-head- Genesis Rhapshodos, he instantly recalled- by accident and the boy had the audacity to wink at him and wave cheerfully (had no one told him yet that Sephiroth was a freak of nature and unnatural and should be avoided unless you needed something slaughtered?).  The black-haired one- Angeal Hewley, his mind supplied helpfully- discreetly smacked his friend on the head and sent Sephiroth an apologetic look and a kind, warm smile before they were bustled out of the room.

For a moment Sephiroth forgot how to breathe.

No one had looked at him like that since Professor Gast died- and the Professor had been wary of him.

But these two……..

Was there a chance, that maybe-

Don’t get your hopes up. His mind cautioned.

Bad…..danger…….not good enough……..

Sephiroth resolutely ignored both voices in his head, he shifted slightly in resolution.

He would fight them, see what they were made of- and then, and if they were good, if they could keep up- then, maybe someday…..

Well, maybe, he’d be able to fill this empty ache in his chest that he’d had ever since Professor Gast left, that- truthfully- the kind(er) Professor had never truly filled in the first place.

If you’re real Mother, if you loved me at all……if you thought of me fondly even for a single moment, just let me fly one time.  Sephiroth begged even as his feet led him closer to Professor Hojo’s lab and the afternoon’s awaiting torture.

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The Calamity From the Skies crowed and crooned in triumph, this would be so easy.  Her beautiful Son would be Hers and Hers alone.

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Two rooms apart two boys felt shivers run down their spines and their Mother’s voice in their souls.

Mine……my boys……..stronger……….cannot……..no harm……….that child………..reckoning……

(A single glance was all it had taken to make that a promise.  A resolve that would not be shattered pushing it towards victory.)

Angeal smiles sharp and vicious and his opponent hesitates a moment too long, but a moment is all Angeal needs to take him out.

Genesis grins wild and fierce. “When the war of the beasts brings about the world's end/The goddess descends from the sky/Wings of light and dark spread afar/She guides us to bliss, her gift everlasting.” He proclaims boldly as he dances to his victory.

.

He’s one of us now, Bitch.  We will help Mother win, no matter the cost.

The Planet sings.

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Chapter Text

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One thing that all the potential SOLDIER cadets could agree on was that Basic Training sucked.

Genesis Rhapshodos and Angeal Hewley hated the twelve-week program to weed out the hopeless cases for slightly different reasons than the rest.

They hated it nearly as much as Harry and Neville had once hated Potions.

It wasn’t the running until they could taste the burn of bile in their throats or the way their bodies ached like one gigantic bruise or even the gelatinous goop that Shinra insisted was food that they were forced to eat at least three times a day.

It was the Planet-cursed Drill Instructor’s commentary.

“My friend, your desire/Is the bringer of life, the gift of the goddess.” Genesis muttered under his breath to Angeal, his partner in this exercise, who grunted in turn as their Drill Instructors for this set started screaming on about being pretty ladies and feminine weakness and ‘get your asses moving, girlies’.

As if two male individuals who had known fierce, (fucking terrifying), women such as Minerva McGonagall, Molly Weasley, or Bellatrix LeStrange could be enraged by such ignorant statements.

“I wanna see the bald douche make a statement like that in range of McG’s wand.” Angeal muttered as they were all graciously allowed to switch.

“Dreams of the morrow hath the shattered soul/Pride is lost/Wings stripped away, the end is nigh.” Genesis wheezed out, trying not to complicate his breathing patters by actually laughing.

“Faster, girls!” Came the call from the front and both young men rolled their eyes.

“Is there a problem, Recruit Rhapshodos, Recruit Hewley?”

One of the bastards had snuck up on them, and with full volume on, fantastic.

Naturally before Angeal could save them, Genesis’ temper snapped.  “Sir, no, sir!  These recruits were simply admiring your dulcet tones, sir!”

Genesis forever maintained that the KP they got saddled with was well worth the look on the idiot’s face.

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For twelve weeks he had observed them, those two boys from the Recruitment Day.

Sephiroth watched as they refused to bend to Shinra’s will despite all the extra attentions of the Instructors- who seemed to be particularly motivated in breaking the two boys.

They had separated the two after the first few weeks but that only served to make the two more obstinate.  So the Instructors had moved them back into the same unit then the Instructors had proceeded to mock them nearly every second of the day, relentlessly nitpicked them in full view of their peers, and even stood by and watched as the others in the unit banded together against the two. 

Sephiroth had overhead two of the Instructors lamenting the fact that they had orders from ‘the higher ups’, to break the two teens. In their personal opinions, the Instructors all agreed that the boys were future leaders, and to still be pushing to break them this late in the Basic Instruction cycle was courting disaster.  It put a nasty taste in their mouth, they’d admitted, to give unspoken permission the undesirables in their Units and to watch as Hewley and Rhapshodos had to fend for themselves.  It galled the Instructors’ military pride to see such things, but the higher powers were damn insistent that the two were broken entirely and reformed as Shinra’s finest.

Yet……..

Angeal Hewley and Genesis Rhapshodos had refused to break.

They bent sometimes, shoulders slumping in exhaustion and limbs shaking with exertion, but they had never been submissive.

And in the end, those two teenagers made it through the twelve week course as individuals.

Razor sharp, wary, and suspicious individuals.

Sephiroth’s secret desire to be friends with the two burned that much brighter, despite his inner cynicism born from spending a lifetime in the Labs.

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Angeal groaned wearily as he trudged back to the apartment that he shared with Genesis and four other boys.  Basic Training had been hell, but Cadet Training hadn’t really gotten any better.

The way the SOLDIER Prospect Program worked was twelve weeks of Basic Training, immediately followed by six months of Cadet Training, Prep Trials- a grueling three day experience of horrors- and two weeks of leave.  After they came back from leave it was ten weeks of unstructured training and supervised missions with their Barracks, three weeks of Reassesment- which included the final Mako testing process and singled out individuals for Officer Training- and the SOLDIER Exam.

It sounded overly complicated, but basically everything after the Prep Trials was a dry run of SOLDIER life.  Mako could do a lot of things, but you needed to have the drive and focus to maintain your body and the mental stability to handle super strength.  The Prep Trials were basically the SOLDIER Exam, designed separate future noncommissioned officers from commanding officers.  The individual SOLDIER classes held both and were an indication of Mako saturation.  Hence, a SOLDIER Staff Sergeant and a SOLDIER Major could be the same class, but different ranks.

Old Man Shinra might be a greedy bastard, but everyone could see the rising tensions with Wutai and the last thing the old geezer wanted was bad press for his private army.  Badass they might be, the Turks could only handle so many leaks at a time, and with war on the horizon even Shinra needed to be careful.

Originally he and Genesis had been assigned to different Cadet Housing, but after all the shit they had gone through in Basic they had not been amused.  Therefore, Genesis’ Slytherin qualities had come bursting forth with a vengeance, and the red-head had politely told Hollander’s secretary ‘that Shinra life just wasn’t for them’ and they were ‘so very, very, sorry to disappoint the good doctor, but they were opting out’ and less than an hour later they were informed that there had been a ‘mix up with housing’.

It had been obvious to them, (a little passive Legilimency had helped confirm their suspicions nicely), that by the end the Instructors had been going through the motions and truly hadn’t been ‘Snaping’ them.  By ‘Snaping’ they meant being overly critical and generally unpleasant while also subtly attempting to simultaneously sabotage them so the boys could then be berated for their failures.

Yes, Genesis had told him about the man’s sacrifices, and for all that they both grateful it didn’t erase then man’s conduct or the consequences of it.

So, basically, Hollander had been pressuring their Instructors because the man was still more than a little miffed about he and Genesis’ impromptu world tour and wanted to stamp out any future rebellions by threatening their ‘dream’ of becoming SOLDIER operatives.

Especially as the good doctor hadn’t had much time to call them down to the Labs as they had arrived in Midgar the final morning before this cycle’s Basic Training began.

On purpose, might they add.

Angeal snorted softly, as if he and Genesis hadn’t known who had been the driving force behind their Instructors torment.  Truthfully if Shinra didn’t have so many innocent people who really wanted to make a difference and had nowhere else to go Angeal and Genesis would have avoided the cesspit altogether.  Sad as it was to admit, the people were too poor to support two global companies, and Shinra was already too entrenched into nearly every government on the Planet’s infrastructure for the individual governments to remain intact if Shinra disappeared.   Even if Angeal and Genesis exploded onto the scene as a Planet-shattering, clean energy using superpower Shinra would dig in their heels and the innocents caught in the crossfire would make the battle too bloody for there to truly be a victor, so the two had decided that changing Shinra from the inside had the highest possibly of success without throwing the world into chaotic anarchy.

Angeal allowed his thoughts to meander among these things as he made his way down the last hall.  As terrible as these thoughts are, he pondered broodingly, they are better than looking at these dull, gunmetal gray walls and the overwhelming sense of wrongness that plagues this entire city.  The Lifesteam is so entirely absent that it sets my teeth on edge.  He missed the Forgotten Capital and the Cavern, he missed sitting around a Materia Pit with Genesis.  Angeal missed the way the winds of the mountains tugged at them, the way the sea spray smelled in a spring storm, or the way the grass of the plains smelled after a rain, he missed-

Well, he was a Cetra and they weren’t really made for staying still.

Swiping his keycard and opening the door his eyes found Genesis’ own and Angeal at least felt some relief that he wasn’t alone in this.

This is not our home.  But will endure this to save Mother. The space between them seemed to whisper.

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If there is one thing that carried over from Harry Potter to Genesis Rhapshodos, Angeal Hewley noted with exasperation, it’s the dangerous curiosity.

The day had started innocently enough.

Angeal and Genesis had passed the Prep Trials with style and were heading out to start their two week leave when they got the summons from Dr. Hollander.

Normally, they would have gone with the ‘sorry we didn’t get your message’ route, but the summons came equipped with Turks, so they resigned themselves to meeting with the good doctor.

They had been escorted down to the secure labs, and would have made a break for it if their Turk escort hadn’t made themselves comfortable in front of the elevator and stairwell, respectively.

Huffing dramatically and sprawling gracelessly into one of the uncomfortable benches that lined the dismal U-shaped waiting room, Genesis had proceeded to mutter. “Dreams of the morrow hath the shattered soul/Pride is lost/Wings stripped away, the end is nigh.”

“Ughn.” Angeal had grunted eloquently as he seated himself with much more grace and much less enthusiasm, sitting rigidly in the chair he had picked out that was perpendicular to the bench Genesis was sprawled on.

Genesis had arched a brilliant brow and cast a reproachful eye at his brother. “My friend, do you fly away now?/To a world that abhors you and I?/All that awaits you is a somber morrow/No matter where the winds may blow/My friend, your desire/Is the bringer of life, the gift of the goddess/Even if the morrow is barren of promises/Nothing shall forestall my return.”

Angeal had huffed in reluctant amusement.

Genesis had grinned a waved a careless hand through the air. “Even if the morrow is barren of promises/Nothing shall forestall my return/To become the dew that quenches the land/To spare the sands, the seas, the skies/I offer thee this silent sacrifice.”

This time Angeal had let out a short, amused chortle.  Reclining back against his chair, and crossing his long legs at the ankles, Angeal crossed his arms across his stomach as he quirked a dark brow at Genesis who proceeded to give him an unholy look of glee.

“When the war of the beasts brings about the world's end/The goddess descends from the sky.”

“Mmmhmmm.” Angeal hummed noncommittally.

“Infinite in mystery is the gift of the Goddess/We seek it thus, and take to the sky.”

“No, Gen.” Stay strong, man.  You can ignore whatever insanity Gen is planning.  You both two have two weeks of leave, he’ll forgive you.

“There is no hate, only joy/For you are beloved by the goddess.”

“Still no.”  Now Genesis was attempting to sulk, Angeal noted.  One leg bent with an arm draped over it, back reclined against the sloping arm of the couch, face set in that mulish expression, mischief in his eyes, and pout on his lips, Genesis was in for the long haul.

”The arrow has left the bow of the goddess.”

“Mmmm.” Angeal shifted, trying to find a more comfortable position to ignore Genesis from.

“No matter where the winds may blow/My friend, your desire/Is the bringer of life, the gift of the goddess/Even if the morrow is barren of promises/Nothing shall forestall my return.”

“……you’re really attached to his idea, aren’t you?” was the resigned reply.

“To become the dew that quenches the land/To spare the sands, the seas, the skies/I offer thee this silent sacrifice.”

“You’re ridiculous you realize?”

Genesis looked triumphant, and had just opened his mouth to respond when they were interrupted. “Cadet Hewley, Cadet Rhapshodos?”

That was definitely a pout, Angeal noted in amusement, as he and Genesis stood to face the lab tech who addressed them.  She looked like the typical scientist- pasty skin, mousy hair, glasses.  “That’s us.” Angeal told her agreeably.

Genesis gave her an unimpressed stare.

“U-uhm, ah, yes- “ She squeaked out somewhat fearfully, not that Angeal blamed her, Genesis’ ‘unimpressed stare’ was a work of art.  “-if you’ll follow me please.”  With that she whirled around, scanned her keycard and held the door for them to follow.

Angeal was trying to focus on the tech as she led them through the secure halls, but he still didn’t miss the jaunty wave and flirty wink Genesis sent the Turk escort.

You can do this, Angeal, deep breaths.

“Here we are.” She stopped in front of two exam room doors, “Cadet Hewley to left, Cadet Rhapshodos to the right, please change into the scrubs provided and Professor Hollander will be with you shortly.”

Genesis looked at her, then looked at Angeal before he grabbed Angeal’s arm and shoved the both of them into the left room, ignoring her offending squawk.  “We’ll wait together.” Genesis called over his shoulder as he shut the door in her face.

“That-” Angeal said with all the disapproval he could muster. “-was rude.”

Genesis gave him a flat look. “We’re on leave.  I’m not stripping out of my clothes and separating from you.  Good thing I planned for this.”

Angeal’s response was cut off by the arrival of Professor Hollander, who was just as squat and unpleasant as ever.

“Why are you causing a ruckus in my labs, boy?” The man thundered at Genesis.

“I am merely trying to expedite this session so that Angeal and I might be on our way, Professor.  We signed up for charity work, you know.  We’d hate to be late to it.” Genesis purred, Angeal a solid presence on his right.

Hollander’s face took on an interesting shade of puce. “Tell me where so I can make excuses for the two of you whelps.  You’ll be in the labs for your break as I need to see the damages you inflicted to yourselves over your little vacation.”

Genesis’ face took on a look of- fake, Angeal noted with a rising level of resigned amusement- innocence as he protested.  “But Professor!  We told the CEO of OmniCorp- we ran into him a few weeks back, it was such a pleasant surprise!- how excited you were to have us help those poor souls who live below the Plate!  We told him all about how you’ve always taken such good care of us and how much you approved of our plans to help clean up some of the monsters!  President Shaw was so impressed that agreed to listen to your proposal next week.  He really approved of your initiative.  Why, he even said that Professor Hojo could learn from your example!”  Genesis finished with a rather disturbing- to Angeal- earnest look on his face.

Ah, Angeal though, carefully concealing his amusement at the rainbow of colors that were decorating Hollander’s face, that’s his game.  OmniCorp is a main supplier of the labs and Hojo usually negotiates the contract, which is renewed every three years.  Hollander, as the Assistant Head, could technically negotiate in Hojo’s place, but by doing it himself Hojo can rule the Science Department with an iron fist.  This opportunity is gold to Hollander, and the best part is that if Hollander does negotiate he won’t be able to afford to alienate us.  Now to see if he takes the bait.

I didn’t spend most of my life as Harry being manipulated without picking up a few things, you wrinkly old bastard. Genesis thought uncharitably from behind his most sincere ‘earnest’ face.  I can acknowledge that it was probably the best plan that Wizarding Britain had, but I left that over-eager, abused boy behind.  I am Genesis-fucking-Rhapshodos now.  I have my brother, Mother, and all the souls of the Lifestream at my back.  I won’t lie down and suffer quietly this time- and I damn well won’t let Angeal either!  My life, my terms- your move, you motherfucking asshat.

Hollander spluttered and hemmed and hawed, but in the end he took some blood, swabs, and a urine sample and told them to see him after the break before taking his leave- the contact number for President Shaw tucked into his slimy hands as he hurried to his office.

“No escort?” Genesis snapped irritably at the retreating figure, calming at Angeal’s hand coming to rest on his shoulder.

“Come on, Gen,” Angeal murmured warmly behind the red-head’s ear, “Let’s just go.  Infinite in mystery is the gift of the Goddess/We seek it thus, and take to the sky.”

A lazy, satisfied smirk curled at Genesis’ lips, “Wings of light and dark spread afar/She guides us to bliss, her gift everlasting.”

With that the two had made their way towards the exit, looking for a hole in the surveillance cameras.

There.

Without pause they slipped into a supply closet that was in a blind spot, just around the corner from the lab exits.  They could feel long-missed adrenaline flooding through their veins, heightening their senses, and making them miss the wilds of Gaea all the more.

While they had had four other roommates and weren’t allowed out of the Shinra building during Cadet Training, their roommates had pretty much left them alone after Angeal and Genesis had proven that they were not going to accept being pushed around.  Over the six months of training the other four had gravitated towards members of other Bumkers, leaving Angeal and Genesis time to fashion leather wand holsters- enchanted wand holsters.  They had snuck the foci into Shinra hidden in their respective copies of LOVELESS.

Now they used them to Disillusion themselves. 

Well, they still were having trouble with fine casting.  Genesis cast a variant of a Silencing Charm on his shoes.    The difference being that anything within the range of the Ward- since it was an overpowered, if tailored Charm- on Genesis’ boots would cease to have noise to those on the outside of the Ward, which was much different than the effects of the Silencing Charm, but it was the best that they could do for now.

Angeal cast what they had taken to calling the “Inconsequential Ward” on his own boots.  It behaved like the Silencing Charm in that everything within the range of the Ward was deemed ‘inconsequential’.   Much like the Charm it had been based on, the Ward worked like a Repelling Ward combined with a Notice-Me-Not charm. 

The best part? 

It even worked on video surveillance!  Audio too, they had founds.  One time, when they had been testing to see if their Magic affected Shinra’s tech, Angeal had accidentally dispelled their cover Magic just and they were caught being out of bounds by a patrolling Guard.  They were dragged into Security and while Angeal and Genesis could see the moment they appeared out of thin air, their Instructors all swore they could see them coming down the hall/taking the stairs.  None of the men seemed to realize that they had conflicting stories, but they had all agreed that they could see how the two had come to be where they had been caught.

The two had accepted punishment solemnly and then gleefully went on to test their new-found theories, which had included audio-based testing.

They came to the conclusion that the Ward encouraged people to make their own assumptions based on what they saw, and the Magic was active even in surveillance tapes.

Angeal postulated, and Genesis agreed, that since this world’s scientists had known about the existence Magic- via Mana and Materia- that the technology had been subconsciously developed to work around such things and therefore adapted to their Earth Magic instead of blowing up everything, like Magic had often done to Earth technology.

So, now properly equipped to do some spying, they slipped out of the closet and started on their way.

While unlocking spells could not unlock the keypads, the two had found that they could confound the things into thinking that they had been given a code.

Slowly they crept through the halls, poking their heads in rooms, eventually making to an elevator at the very back.

They had to wait for nearly a half an hour, but eventually someone came to use it and they crept on after the person.  They came to a stop, but the person they followed swiped their card and stayed on, so they decided to wait. 

The person got off on the next stop and they slipped out after them, creeping silently behind and keeping a vigilant eye out.  They made it past two levels of security and ducked into a closet to renew their Magic.

They could feel Mother stirring in the souls.

Being in Midgar had been difficult for them.  The Lifestream was so depleted that it was difficult to hear Her even with skin contact to the ground. 

Being in Shinra Tower, surrounded by metal and bereft of plant life?

It felt slimy against their senses, like putting on soiled, sweat drenched clothes after a hot shower.

But here, underground, they could feel the faintest whispers of Her against their minds. 

Eager anticipation.

Sad acceptance.

Resolve.

 “There is no hate, only joy/For you are beloved by the goddess/Hero of the dawn, Healer of worlds.” Genesis murmured, eyes shard, stance ready.

“Mm, The arrow has left the bow of the goddess.” Angeal agreed.

They made their way out into the hall.

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It made them heartsick.

What they had found housed in these sterile rooms.

Cages.

Prisons.

They could feel that some of these horrors had once been animals or people.  Children of Gaea, soaked in Her Blood and taken by the Calamity through the designs of power hungry monsters.

Grimly they set to work.

Room by room they went, returning lost souls to the Lifestream.  They set Wards, tried to stagger the rate of decay to create mass panic when someone finally pieced everything together.

Some bodies had so much of the Calamity infused in them there was hardly any difference between death and life.

Or what these poor souls had come to had call life.

The Shinra building was a mile square, and the Labs they were in reflected that.

Inch by bloody inch they did their best to cleanse it.

They had commandeered a tub and dumped the Calamity remains in it, knowing that if they left the cells Shinra would just reuse them and all of this would be for naught. 

End the suffering. Watch the corpses fade into ether.  Shrink and stow the remains.

Over and over and over and over again.

They were tiring, but they pressed forward, determined to put to rest as many as they could.

Eventually they acknowledged that they had to stop.  They wouldn’t do any good to anyone if they got caught now.  They were disheartened to realize that they had covered less than half of the area.

They had barely scraped the outer edge of the inner sanctum.

Hojo’s playground.  They had heard the lab assistants whisper about it the further in they worked.  They found that there were scientists and techs who didn’t leave for months at a time- there were living quarters on the floor above them, apparently.  The inner perimeter was Hojo’s personal domain only known to those he personally vetted.  Not even the Turks were allowed without his express permission.

People entered, but never left.

They ducked into a closet, renewed the Magic one last time, and prepared to leave.  But before they could slip out, they heard footsteps- heeled shoes?- and voices coming towards them.

“-telling you, Streeter, I’m jealous.”  A woman’s voice, bright and clear.

“Of a specimen?  Come on, Duley!” Another woman, they guessed, but the voice was huskier than the first, but not unpleasant.

The first voice scoffed as the voices came to a stop just a few feet away, “I’m telling you, that brat gets more time with the Professor than everyone else put together and he doesn’t even appreciate it!  Starts screaming mid-procedure and flatlines so the Professor has to scrap the entire experiment?  How impolite!”

They could feel the owner of the second voice roll their eyes as they- she?- replied, “Specimen S is said to be the Professor’s greatest work.  There are even rumors that the Professor donated the genetic material for its creation.”

There was a sound of discontent, then. “I still can’t believe that the brat is so disrespectful down here.  I mean, who would think that SOLDIER Third Class Sephiroth could be such a-“

“Enough, Duley.  You know we’re not supposed to discuss these things, especially in the hall!  Do you want a ‘vacation’?”

“Fine, you win.” The footsteps started again, “We’re on in lab 47 soon, you know the one that-“they heard as the voices faded out.

Angeal and Genesis exchanged horrified looks.

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Sephiroth has continued to watch, continued to pray.

They had made it through Cadet Training without faltering.   Every obstacle that the two hurdle becomes another ember to the fragile flames of hope inside his soul.

Then he is down in the labs- for Shinra is on break for the cycle and Professor Hojo wants to perform a ‘check-up’, and he hears about the stunt they pulled with Hollander from the gossiping lab techs, and the bright flare of hope that sparks through him is nearly as frightening as it is exhilarating.

Sephiroth nearly cries when he realizes what this means- and hadn’t that been a terrifying moment- Angeal Hewley and Genesis Rhapshodos share something with Sephiroth that few others could understand!

For who else but a fellow experiment could understand the stifling suffocation of being under a mad, possessive scientist’s thumb?  Of knowing what it was like being less (more, Hojo always repeated, better, that voice crooned in the back of his mind) than human, of knowing that you weren’t even a being worth dignity- just lab scrubs and restraints and screams. 

The lab techs give him the special cocktail that will keep him sedated for the procedure- Professor Hojo apparently isn’t interested in expanding Sephiroth’s pain tolerance today, a small part of his mind idly notes- and as he goes under, he dreams.

The only thing that you knew during the haze of scalpels, beeping, needles and the Mako immersions (itburnsitburnsitburnsmakeitstoppleaseI’llbegoodithurtsMothersaveme), was Hojo (Father….?) saying that if you were good you could go upstairs for a while, pretend to be a person, while the lab was sanitized and those that hadn’t earned their number were killed, dissected, euthanized or all three.

So you do, and it’s glorious with the fresh air and green everywhere and the real clothes.  You learn your kata, do your conditioning, and read all the books that you can get your tiny hands on- and everything is perfect for a brief, heart stopping moment the number on your hand is forgotten.

Then the sky goes grey and you’re back in your lab scrubs as the Turks are escorting you back to your ‘special room’, far away from the other specimens.

And as you walk past the cells you are greeted with new, terrified faces and the sickening knowledge of what was to come as you walk back to your gilded cage. Barely a moment after the doors shut and seal behind you the screams begin and you know how this ends and you hate it because for all your strength you truly realize what it means to be powerless in the face of your Father’s will.

Isn’t family supposed to love?

Father, (Professor Hojo Sephiroth starts calling him when he turns eight, for it is all the rebellion he can stage without consequence), says that he loves science, progression.  That it is the way of the world and it is how he shows love to your Mother.

Yet, science is what allows the Professor to scrape and skin and hurt.

Is this love?  The bite of scalpels and the prick of needles and the smell of Mako?

You hear the other specimens scream and beg for their mothers to save them from where they lay under your Father’s scalpel and, just like your own, their mothers do not answer.

Is this family?  People (beings?) screaming together, all sharing the same dream.

Your thoughts shift and you remember Professor Gast.  Professor Gast who looked at you kindly- warily, you later note with wounded, older eyes- and the picture that he showed you of his wife, the pretty woman with the brown hair and the bright eyes that seemed alive.  The woman who you only met once- and you’d been so excited to meet her, you remember- because Father hadn’t wanted you to- had ordered you not to- but she had looked so warm and kind in the picture, looked the way you’d always secretly hoped your Mother looked- but when she met your eyes there had been no kindness or warmth, just hate in her eyes and it hurt. 

When she tries to apologize you give her that particularly flat, empty look that you give the Turks when they return you to Father after a particularly trying ‘check-up’ and walk away.

From love, from family………from whatever this stupid ache is.

The Professor tries to talk to you after that, to reason and explain, but you shut him out because you know how this ends- how could you forget?- and, like you expect soon after he is gone and you’re alone.

Just you, the Turks, Professor Hojo, and the screams.

Darkness awaits you.

This time, you reach forward and embrace it.

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They stashed the container and set off, searching for the young man, knowing they would hate themselves if they left without trying.

It took them a while but they found him.  Silver hair, milky skin, dressed in only a thin pair of lab pants, breathing unsteadily, with sweat dripping off him in rivulets, precise incisions already sealing over and impersonal bandages wrapped around his glistening skin.  There was some monitoring equipment, but hardly more than what was needed to check the teen’s vitals.

Alone.

They had heard about the young SOLDIER, of course, everyone in the program had.  He was Shinra’s rising star, their perfect weapon. Mother had told them about the child who had been imbued with the Calamity, but they hadn’t realized that they were one in the same.  They had felt Her resolve that time, just after they had arrived, to save Her son that the Calamity had claimed.  Because for all that she was too big, too vast to fully understand motherhood, She had lost enough of Her children to the Betrayer, the Destroyer.

Not this one.  Please not this one.

So seeing him there, so small and pale and powerless brought bile to their throats and a burning to their eyes.

For Harry Potter and Neville Longbottom knew what it was like to have power and be powerless.  To be the pillar when you, yourself, were crumbling, to be the one everyone hated to love, and to be so very, very lost while leading the pack.  To be so very desperately lonely and hated for everything you didn’t actually have but pressing forward because it was all you knew how to do all you could do. 

In the end, they had always stood alone- apart.  For all that Hermione had loved Harry- and she had known him best, been his closest more fiercely cherished friend- she had feared him.  Known about the darkness in his body and feared what he could become.  For all that Neville loved her, Gran had never seen him and by the time he’d grown to stand tall and proud like the oak trees on their Estate she had been gone.

Two boys meet in secret in an orchard in a town called Banora.  One is shorter and lithe with fiery red hair, bright eyes, a temper to match and an aching desire to fly; while the other is tall with dark hair, bright eyes, a deep sense of integrity, and a love for growing things.

The red head grabs apples from a nearby tree and tosses it to the other as they sit in the spot that has been theirs since they were small children.  The red-headed child looks at the other in bemusement and says, “Even if the morrow is barren of promises/Nothing shall forestall my return/To become the dew that quenches the land/To spare the sands, the seas, the skies/I offer thee this silent sacrifice.”

The dark-haired boy looks at his friend with a wry grin and huffs out a laugh, “Always the pessimist. How about: When the war of the beasts brings about the world's end/The goddess descends from the sky/Wings of light and dark spread afar/She guides us to bliss, her gift everlasting.”

“How very like you, my friend, to see a beginning where I see an ending.”

Angeal ripped Sephiroth free of the restraints and wrapped him in the Charm-Ward and Genesis lead them out.  A quick stop to retrieve the container and they were off, fleeing to one elevator, then the next, stopping to grab their pre-packed gear before finally making it to the ground floor out of the building and heading for the Slums. 

They made it below the Plate- a world of asphalt, synthetic light, foul air, and exponentially increased poverty the further one walked from the central sections- without being apprehended and they can feel Mother again, but only just.  She guided them, aching and weary and heartsick towards the Fifth Sector.  Eventually they see a structure with colorful windows and an achingly familiar frame.

A Church.

A relic of a time when the people still worshipped the One, the Creator.

They pushed the door and it slid open with a gentle whoosh.  The beams in the ceiling were cracked, silt had built up on the floor, and the pews were rotting, but the building is effused with that feeling that you get when the sunlight hits your face after a long, dark night.  It wraps around them and they can feel something- Someone- welcoming them, beckoning them forward.  It is older and wiser than Mother, and oh so very comforting after the day that they have had so far.

So they shut the door behind them and gingerly made their way into the hallowed hall, their Charm-Wards finally fading and it is a comfortable loss.  Sephiroth hasn’t stirred, and they can only guess if that is a good thing or a bad thing, but right now they feel safe for the first time since they left the Cavern in the Forgotten Capital.

However, they are still in the outer edge of the Slums and their long-ingrained self-preservation prods them to take action.  So, Angeal trudged outside to grab some of the crumbling stones to use for Ward Anchors while Genesis walked over to where the choir once stood and sets up their camping supplies.  Once the supplies have been set out, the still and pale Sephiroth is gently placed on one of the bedrolls.  Genesis- ever curious- clears away the rotting wood that used to be a screen and finds what appears to be a baptismal.  It is dirty, but plenty big, and it’s a beautiful piece of intricate stonework, so it should be able to hold water just fine with some cleaning.  He wearily tries to force his Earth Magic to conjure a bit water to clean it with when he hears Mother’s voice.

…………….wait…………..

Angeal has only just returned and they both freeze.

Mother? Genesis prodded gently, a tad worried, after a moment of silence when both he and Angeal hear nothing.

…….stand…..edge……..blood…..ritual…..pull………

They look at each other in confusion and resignation- because they are tired and heartbroken and empty- but they force themselves to stand and do Mother’s bidding.  There was a no visible drain in the baptismal- and though the bottom is filled with random bits and bobs that are shifted around as Angeal searched for cracks or missing stones- there doesn’t seem to be any structural damage.  After some quick inspection and a quiet discussion they figure that the people must have pumped the water both in and out.  That only makes Mother’s orders even more confusing to them, but they follow it anyways.  Standing by the edge of the baptismal they repeat the ritual that they had done all those months ago in the Cavern.

For a moment nothing happened and they have begun to resign themselves to try again when they heard it.

Trickling water.

Then they can only watch in silent awe as the baptismal fills.

Heart Water.

Then Mother’s laugh dances through their minds, bright and sweet and delighted.

My boys…..my brave, beautiful boys…….

The glow of the water illuminated the building, reflecting joyfully off the stained glass windows and filling the space with love and light and warmth.

Then they realized that they are still unprotected in the outer edges the Slums and should probably set up some Wards before the light attracts attention that they don’t have the proper physical strength or emotional capacity to handle at the moment.

They move to start the Ward-crafting process before falling to an abrupt halt as they hear Her again.

The boy…..water……

They looked at each other for a brief moment before Angeal goes for Sephiroth and Genesis goes for the future Ward Anchors. 

Angeal was barely affected by the extra weight in his arms, scaling the steps before gently easing Sephiroth down into the glowing, shimmering water.  The burly teen taking care to keep Sephiroth’s head above water.  Below Genesis scratched out a ward scheme in the silt and when he decided that the scheme would work and not collapse- that had happened a few times at the Capitol- he began to quickly, but carefully, engrave the characters on the stones.

Let him…….rest under…..alright……sweetheart…….

Angeal met Genesis’ reassuring gaze for a long moment before he reluctantly let go and Sephiroth slipped below the shimmering water’s surface.

Genesis’ lips curled into a smile as he gently murmured. “Infinite in mystery is the gift of the Goddess/We seek it thus, and take to the sky/Ripples form on the water's surface/The wandering soul knows no rest.”

Angeal breathed in deeply and believes.  ”The arrow has left the bow of the goddess, yeah?” 

The next few hours were a furious race to finish and power the Wards.  They renewed their Charms and sparked the engraved stones with blood, Mana, and Magic.  Once that was done they placed them in proper sequence around the perimeter of the Church, buried semi-deeply into the ground.  The arduous task completed- the Below the Plate not being the easiest place to dig holes at all- they returned to the inside of their new haven where they then placed the Heartstone below the pulpit, burying the important anchor as deeply as they could manage.  When all was in place, with their blood on the stones, they call forth their remaining Mana and Magic and push their all into catalyzing the buried sparks into full Wards.

“My soul, corrupted by vengeance/Hath endured torment, to find the end of the journey/In my own salvation/And your eternal slumber.” Genesis snarked as they both begin to descend into oblivion.

“I am really gettin’ tired of magical exhaustion.” Angeal muttered from his spot beside his brother, face pressed into the silt, too exhausted to move.  “And I really hope that Mother is watching over Sephiroth.  It would suck to lose him now.”

“Uhngh.” Was his reply.

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Sephiroth was drifting in a void.

No…..that wasn’t quite right.

Voids were cold.  He knew this because there had been a dozen occasions when he had been declared ‘dead’ during an experiment- and he could remember the feel of ice and the fear- and this didn’t feel the same.  It was warm here, comfortable.  He couldn’t open his eyes- did he have eyes?- but he felt safe and at peace.  The other times he had drifted there had been a terrible wailing that sounded an awful lot like those headaches that became a voice sometimes.

When he was little he had embraced those times, because Father had said that it was his Mother’s voice but as he got older and ‘Father’ became ‘Professor Hojo’ he had little desire to listen to the woman who encouraged the suffering of the scared faces in the cages.

Of the Mother who didn’t care enough to even sing to him when he cried when she was right there in his head.

How long have I been here?  Has the Professor declared me a failure yet?  Sephiroth wouldn’t mind being a failure, it would be the end of his suffering- but succeeding as an experiment- being the Professor’s greatest accomplishment- was all he really had.  Did he want to fail at the only thing he was good at?  The only thing that made him worthy of existing?

Then, abruptly, the voice was back, screaming- tearing, shredding- his mind and he had no defense against it.

No!  You are mine!  My beautiful Son!  Come to ME!  You are in danger!  Come, Mother will help you hide from the nasty humans!  Comecomecome-

It was too much, it hurt too much.  Please stop! He begged Her. I can’t take this strain!  Mother, please!

Don’t be weak!  You are my Son, my perfect Son!  Mother will make it better!  Come to Me!

Mother, please!  It hurts!  Then he could vaguely make out a blue-skinned woman with red eyes in the nothingness around him- I guess I do have eyes, some idle part of him noted- but She seemed distraught.  Her face twisted in an ugly expression- Fear? Terror? Apprehension?- not at all what he had imagined Mother to be from the way Fath-Professor Hojo spoke of Her.  Why is my brain all mushy?  I can barely form proper sentences.

Mother’s eyes widened and Her face contorted in an ugly visage of hate at something just beyond his shoulder- was someone behind him, then?- he couldn’t see.  MySonMySonMySon----Nonononono-STAY AWAY! Come to Mother!  I will make you more!  Better than the pitiful humans around you!  They will be crushed beneath Our might! Comecomecome-

Sephiroth screamed as he saw Her hands descend, turning into talons as She tried to- hide?- burrow deep inside him.  Stopstopstop!  It hurts!  It burns!  Help Me!  I’m slipping away!  I can feel myself losing control of my body!  Whatishappeninggetougetougetout!  Someone-

Then he felt warmth against him and then it was all around him and it was magnificent- like the time one of the lab techs had let him take a bath with the colored bubbles when he was a child and he’d been able to play.

I am here, Child.  Don’t be afraid. 

NONONONO!  She is trying to take you from Me!  You are My Son!  Stay with Mother!  MineMineMine!

He is MINE!  He was never Yours, Betrayer!

And they screamed and raged at each other, but Sephiroth was still slipping, still falling- into death?  Madness?- and as reached the end of his tether, the point of no return, even as he braced for wherever failed experiments go when they expire- surely not Heaven?  Not when they have been touched by evil?- the two screeched at each other, heedless of his sense of self dissolving.

MINEMINEMINE—Perfect….Better!  MINEMINEMINE-

Give him back!  He was always Mine!  Always!

Then they’re there.  Those boys- Angeal and Genesis- and suddenly Sephiroth was standing with Genesis at his left and Angeal at his right and Sephiroth can breathe, can think though the soul-shattering screaming match going on around him, within him.

Angeal gave him that warm smile, clapping a friendly hand on Sephiroth’s shoulder, a strong steady presence at the silveret’s side. “Noisy, aren’t they?  Like two toddlers fighting over a toy.”

Genesis favored him with a cheeky grin and a toss of flame-bright hair, his words powerful and full of conviction. “There is no hate, only joy/For you are beloved by the goddess/Hero of the dawn, Healer of worlds.”

“LOVELESS, Act II.” Sephiroth murmured reflexively.

Genesis gave a delighted laugh. “You’ve read LOVELESS?”

Sephiroth’s brain was still mushy for he replied without censure. “I noticed you often have to book and quote it, so I was curious.”

Genesis blinked slowly and Angeal gave him a searching stare and Sephiroth thinks about what he just said and cringed because, socially inept he may be, but even he knows that that sounded wrong and he scrambled to find a way to save himself, to make it seem less creepy, so they’ll stay.   Then the two exchange a look over his silver-haired head before they both give him reassuring smiles that steal his breath.   “You know,” Angeal said in his slow, amused drawl. “Talking to people that interest you is how you go about making friends properly.”

Then Genesis threw in. “It’s alright, Sephy, I know I’m beloved by the goddess.”

Then they’re laughing- but not at him, with him.  No one has ever dared- cared- to do that before and Sephiroth was still trying to remember how to breathe when Angeal’s arm settled on his shoulder- warm and steady- and Genesis slips an arm through his free one- like Sephiroth has seen girls do, but he’s not far enough gone to say it, thank the Planet- and they’re chattering at each other, but he’s included.   It’s strange and terrifying and wonderful all at once and then he abruptly notices that-

-it’s silent.  There was no muffled screeching or soul-shattering wailing.  There were only the voices of the other two and the faintest traces of gently trickling water.

Sephiroth’s body snapped to attention.

The other two instantly grow quiet and the sound of merrily trickling water echoes through the ensuing silence.

“Sephiroth?” Angeal asked in concern, bright eyes entirely focused on him and unafraid of him.

“It’s quiet.” He said dumbly.

Angeal gave the silver-haired teen another warm, kind smile. “Yes, we’re winning.”

“We’re what?”

Genesis leaned over, invading Sephiroth’s personal space in a way that people not under the employ of Hojo never do. “When the war of the beasts brings about the world's end/The goddess descends from the sky/Wings of light and dark spread afar/She guides us to bliss, her gift everlasting.”

“Hmmm,” Angeal murmured. “We should probably tell you that we kidnapped you from the labs.”  The dark-haired male admitted casually.

“What?!” Sephiroth cried, stepping back away from them as his mind raced with potential conspiracies and theories- did they want to ransom him?  Was he to be turned over to anti-Shinra terrorists?  Wh-

Before Sephiroth can work himself up too much, Genesis laughed brightly before he reached over and lightly smacked Angeal on the head before explaining.  “We rescued you.  You were tied to a table, breathing unevenly, and sweating buckets so we busted you out.  To become the dew that quenches the land/To spare the sands, the seas, the skies/I offer thee this silent sacrifice.”

“W-what?  But that happens all the time, why-“  Sephiroth asked in bewildered confusion, stepping cautiously closer as his worries recede for the moment.

But suddenly the other two teens aren’t jokesters but two young men who took the worst that Shinra’s military could throw at them and emerged- stronger, sharper, and unyielding.  “Look, Sephiroth, we have a story to tell you that isn’t going to be pretty or complete, but it’ll be the truth, and if you want to walk away when it’s done- so be it.  But as long as you’re with us that sort of shit is unacceptable.  You don’t leave a man to suffer alone, it’s dishonorable- and if you listen and you choose to stay, that’ll make you our brother and Genesis and I take commitments like that quite seriously.  It’s a matter of honor for us.”

Genesis looked at Sephiroth and winked saucily before adding. “My friend, do you fly away now?/To a world that abhors you and I?/All that awaits you is a somber morrow/No matter where the winds may blow/My friend, your desire/Is the bringer of life, the gift of the goddess/Even if the morrow is barren of promises/Nothing shall forestall my return.”

Sephiroth stared at them with wide eyes.  Angeal sat, motioning for the other two to do the same and once they complied, Angeal began to speak in a calm, even tone that soothed Sephiroth’s nerves, despite the circumstances. “Alright, listen, it starts with the Planet and the Calamity From the Skies, skips to Professor Gast, a fossil in ice that- Shinra named JENOVA mistakenly thought was a Cetra, moves on to greedy soulless bastards and begins again with us, so where do you want me to start?”

Sephiroth was still staring at Angeal with wide eyes, but now his heartbeat was roaring in his ears, because he has always wanted to know about his Mother but now he’s terrified, because if She’s a monster what does that make him?  Who would want a monster for a brother, and he already has blood on his hands, and what if they find out-

Then Genesis tugged on him until he moved- befuddled and apprehensive- and then Sephirot find that his head was resting in the red-head’s lap and the other teen was running gentle, comforting fingers through his hair while Angeal stared back at him from opposite them, strong and steady and warm.

Suddenly, Sephiroth wasn’t nearly as terrified.

“Please start at the beginning.”  He requested evenly.

“Alright, so, over two thousand years ago there was a race of nomadic people known as the Cetra, now commonly referred to as ‘The Ancients’…………..

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Chapter Text

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Sephiroth gazed at the field of flowers that decorated the floor of ‘The Haven’, Angeal on his left and Genesis on his right as they leaned against the base of the baptismal, the gentle glow of the Heart Water their only light.

Nearly five years had passed since Angeal and Genesis had saved him from the Labs- since they had saved him from the Calamity. 

It had been a little difficult for Sephiroth at first, with his social- lack of- grace, and the way that Angeal and Genesis had seemed to flow together.  It had made him nervous and insecure- and there had still been secrets, which had annoyed and hurt Sephiroth.  Did they think he wouldn’t notice the side looks and conversations that seemed to be in code?   Sure, there was also concern that Hojo would notice something or that Sephiroth would be pumped full of JENOVA cells and go berserk or reveal the other two on accident while in a Mako-JENOVA induced state and that Angeal and Genesis would end up strapped to a lab table, unable to save anyone, even themselves, but didn’t they trust him at all?

Then time had passed and Hojo didn’t notice anything- and while Sephiroth got violently ill after his injections, the Blessing ruthlessly tore the Calamity’s material apart and left Sephiroth even better.

Still, the lack of faith his only friends had in him piled up, making him more and more angry and hurt until….

Until after one mission Sephiroth had confronted his friends, hurt and angry, expecting to be cast aside- because it was obvious that Angeal and Genesis didn’t actually need him and he just knew they’d leave- but then…..

Genesis had looked so heartbroken when he’d realized what he and Angeal had been doing, and they’d told him then.

Everything.

Just like that the missing pieces snapped into place and Sephiroth could see and understand.

The three made regular raids on the Labs- though usually Angeal and Genesis took advantage of poor Sephiroth’s trips- they couldn’t go every time.  They had managed, however, to cause Hojo and Hollander more than a few conniption fits.  One of their biggest issues was that they had nowhere to hide the people they wanted to bust out, and if anyone was re-captured by Shinra and they were found out…… 

So they had been ending the suffering of those they could, taking the Calamity material and purifying it, and contaminating all the JENOVA samples they could get their hands on. 

Heart Water, for the win. 

Though if an opportunity arose, Angeal and Genesis’ blood worked in a pinch.  That had been an interesting set of circumstances.

From there things got better, but occasionally their vastly different personalities would clash ferociously and when they’d get so angry at one another that they were on the verge of breaking, they’d retreat to the Church and bask in the comfort and warmth it offered. 

As time went on Genesis was more and more affected by the lack of Lifestream in Midgar and his temper roiled angrily beneath the surface of his skin, making him sensitive and cranky if he didn’t get sent out on missions to places where there weren’t Mako reactors. 

Angeal grew plants around his apartment in a vain attempt to encourage the Lifestream, and he liked to go on luxurious rants about honor when he caught people engaging in disreputable dealings  On his really bad days he tended to obsessively polish his Buster Sword when the stress of the wrongness got to him.

Sephiroth, while bearing the Blessing, was not actually a Cetra, so he didn’t feel the loss as keenly as the other two, but knowing what they were going through made him tense and unhappy.  Seeing Hojo for his ‘check ups’ put him in even unwholesome moods, so it wasn’t unusual for him to break a Virtual Reality (VR) room one a month or so.

If he took satisfaction in destroying that conniving bitch Scarlet’s machines and annoying that incompetent ass Heidigger with paperwork- well, who was going to call him on it?  If it made Genesis release one of those honest laughs or eased the tension in Angeal’s shoulders when they were stuck for weeks on end in Midgar being the ‘show ponies’ for Shinra- well, that’s his business, isn’t it?

They had cleaned the building up.  With only four or five benches being salvageable, they had cleared the seating area and lined the floor with the rotting wood from the rest.  They had found stones and built up the frames for the future beds, painstakingly cultivating the soil and watering their fledgling plants with Heart Water.  They had taken down the doors to the side rooms and brought back seeds from all over Gaea, making half the rooms into little shrines of different areas of the Planet. 

The other half were made into small dormitories.  No one but them or people they told could visit the loft, but there was a small bathroom in the back of each room, and six bunk beds.  They figured that a few lost souls who made it through the Wards could rest here as long as no damage came to the Church.  If vandals or vagrants became an issue they’d re-tighten the Wards.

The three had seen how little Shinra cared for the Slums, how few of the children had anywhere to go but Shinra.  Maybe this place could make a tiny difference in a few lives.

The trio had rebuilt the walkway, cleared the trash that had been dumped into the yard, and cleared the patch out back that they hoped would be a playground-slash-garden someday. 

They bought wood and read up on carpentry and built a little loft for themselves, nestling it in the rafters, overlooking the baptismal and their bursting flower beds.  Angeal had scavenged all the pieces he could find of the broken stained-glass windows and used his Earth Magic to repair them, painstakingly using new glass to fill the holes where the original pieces were lost.  They made the lights for their loft work with Marteria Shards, did the same with the plumbing, scoured for parts and made a fountain for the Heart Water, and then they had stood back and taken in all their hard work.

Which was what they were doing now, taking in all the changes that they had wrought on this place.

Genesis had demanded that they name it, so they had agreed to dub it ‘The Haven’.

They had shifted the Wards about an hour ago, but they were still pretty tight- only allowing those in who wanted to enjoy the beauty of the Church and bore no ill-will, ulterior motives, or anything else Genesis had inscribed into the protections.

So, it was with a little surprise that they hear the door swing open, and a little girl slipped quietly inside. She had dark hair- it looked brown, but the glow off the stained-glass from the Heart Water makes it difficult to tell- and seemed like she’s somewhere between five and eight.

The door shut quietly she stared directly at the three teenagers, as if she had been expecting this to happen.  Then she smiled radiantly, letting out a bright, happy sound as she skipped towards them without hesitation.  She skipped all the way to them and gracefully placed herself in front of Sephiroth, though she was looking at Genesis, “Dilly-dally, silly-shally.” She sing-songed sweetly.  “Didn’t I tell you that green would always be our color, Harry Potter?”

Genesis gaped unattractively, and at Sephiroth’s other side Angeal makes a strangled noise and choked out. “Luna?”

Sephiroth looked vaguely amused- he had been around Angeal and Genesis long enough now to expect the unexpected- he’s also heard all about ‘Harry Potter’s luck’.

The Planet sings.

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“It’s Aerith now, silly.” She said as Genesis and Angeal stared at her in horror after hearing her tale.

“Lu-Aerith, darling,” Genesis stumbled over his words as he ran a shaky hand through his flame-tones locks, so very far from his normal eloquence and poise. “Please tell me that you did not kill yourself in a ritual that you designed just to follow us?!”  From Sephiroth’s other side, Angeal was still gaping.

Sephiroth was still amused.

Aerith cocked her head to the side and looked at Genesis with a pouty frown. “Do you not want me here?”

Genesis reached forward and snatched the small girl out of her seated position and cuddled her closely, tucking her head securely against his chest and resting his chin on the top of her head.  “Of course we’re happy you’re here, lovely.  But, Planet, what if it hadn’t worked, and you just died!  Then it would have been all my fault and- My friend, the fates are cruel/There are no dreams, no honor remains.”

Sephiroth, bastard that he is, chuckled lowly.

Angeal had finally stopped resembling a Basilisk victim and rose smoothly from his seat only to kneel in front of Genesis, who was still nattering about everything that could have gone wrong and how she is going to put gray in his fabulous hair and she is not allowed to do that again.  Angeal placed a warm hand on her head and wide, beautiful green eyes that contain all the colors of the Lifestream turned to look at him.  Angeal smiled warmly at his once-and-again friend, the creases around his eyes tightening and deepening as he placed a gentle hand on her dark hair.  “It’s great to have you with us, Aerith, but please don’t pull that level of Harry-crazy stunt again.”

“Oi!” Genesis spluttered in indignation.

Sephiroth actually laughed and both Angeal and Genesis turned to look at him.

“Glad you’re enjoying our panic, my friend.”  Angeal informed him wryly.

“My soul, corrupted by vengeance/Hath endured torment, to find the end of the journey.” Genesis grumped.

Aerith- who is Luna who killed herself in an insane ritual to get to them- smiled radiantly let out a bright, sweet laugh. “You’re my most cherished friends, I couldn’t leave you to fend for yourselves!  Besides, with you two gone there wasn’t anyone left for me.  Daddy died in the War, remember?  Besides, I’m not entirely Luna, not like you two, the original Aerith and I merged while she was held in the labs, to help her survive.  Hojo didn’t care about the half-blood child of his rival as much as the full Cetra.  So, we blended, voluntarily.  I am her and she is me, but I’m not entirely the same as I was.  Get it?”

Angeal smiled and shook his head ruefully. “No more than we usually do, dearest.  But we are glad to have you with us.”

Genesis looked at her and sighed, tucking her back against him. “I’m ecstatic that you’re here- by the grace of the goddess, and the One, might I add- but please don’t do something like that again, little moon.  We want you happy and whole.”

Angeal nodded in solemn agreement, and Sephiroth rolled his eyes at the mother-henning.  As if those two don’t pull crazy stunts that make my silver hair gray at least every other mission.

Aeirth giggled again and wriggled out of Genesis’ grip to give Angeal a hug and before the little mischief-maker unceremoniously planted herself in Sephiroth’s lap, immediately snuggling closer, and wrapping his arms around herself when Sephiroth didn’t respond properly.

Now, Sephiroth was confused.  Children do not like him or at least they do not cuddle him.

Angeal grinned and Genesis smirked triumphantly at his obvious discomfort, but neither offered any assistance, and he shot then an indifferent-panicked- glower.  Traitors.

Now the little hellion was looking up at him with that same look Genesis usually has on his face just before he pulls a devious, untraceable prank on a particularly irritating officer. “Hiya, I’m Aerith!  Though, I used to be Luna who knew Harry and Neville.  Who are you?”

“Sephiroth.” He added a nod in an effort to make this a tiny bit more formal so she will get off of him.

Unfortunately, Luna was never one for conventionalities and that has carried over to her new life.  “Nice to meet you!  It’s good to know that I have some help in keeping them in line!”

Sephiroth was once again amused, and Angeal and Genesis were once again stupefied.

Much better, I can handle this.  He thought with no little amount of relief as Aerith launches into a tale from their Earth school days that Angeal and Genesis hadn’t told him.  “Oh, do go on….” He encouraged over the protests of the other two teenage boys.

Aerith giggled conspiratorially and complied.

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“All that awaits you is a somber morrow.” Genesis murmured as he read the dispatch from Shinra Public Safety Communication Dispatch Command, (SPSCDC).

It was a new thing.

Genesis had pitched a fit over the inefficiency of orders and getting supplies in the field, after he had gotten stuck in the Wastes with two squads of Infantry and some dumbass SOLDIER First CO for three fucking weeks with two days’ worth of rations and no water.  He had gotten enough people to throw a fit with him, campaigning that it cost the company more money to be inefficient pieces of shit- though Angeal and Sephiroth had edited that out of the report that he had meticulously compiled- that Shinra had listened, if only to shut him up and save money.  The situation with Wutai was also tipping towards war, so gil-pinching was currently a thing.

Genesis, who was the mastermind, had requisitioned the supplies and then gleefully told Weapon’s Development to shove off and fortified the room they were using for the new SPSCDC.  He had placed the new Command Center on the same floor as the SOLDIER Commanding General, which was right about the HQ for the Regular Infantry.  He knocked down a few walls, yelled at some idiots, and generally made a nuisance of himself for almost a week.

The results, however, were amazing.

A large, conference-sized room with special grates on the air vents to prevent spying, (and maybe with a little Earth Magic to assist), a square of workstations, divided by geographic location, with computers, reference materials, and chairs on the inside.  Then there was a large table with shelving and tactical maps on the inside of the workstation perimeter.  Closed network, (suck it, Scarlet, Genesis had thought spitefully as he made the relays), filing cabinets lining the walls, secure lines to the respective Generals, (Heidegger is still throwing fits Genesis laughed maniacally to Angeal the morning after the Public Safety Department Head found that there was no line for him), and a kitchenette. 

He placed framed, magnified maps on the walls, along with posters he had made for FUBAR situations.  Genesis had also overhauled the system- and paperwork- to requisition supplies, wrote procedures for the little minions to follow, and left well-placed threats of what would occur if he ever ended up in the Wastes for three weeks with two days’ worth of supplies.

Needless to say, that when Genesis was done it was a work of art and efficient as a motherfucker.  Even Sephiroth was impressed.  The SOLDIER Commanding General had declared his undying love for Genesis- excepting his LOVELESS quotes.  Genesis kicked him in the shin; he was in a good mood, so no fire.  The Commanding General of the Infantry had actually cried in happiness- they had to explain that one to Sephiroth.

Genesis had Infantry guys coming up to him even now, six months later, thanking him profusely for the new system.  Apparently, he was the ‘Hero of the Infantry’.

Funny, last year they hated him.

Ah, well, that might have been the fault of his fireballs.

Live and Learn.

Now, he needed Angeal for this mission.

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Professor Hojo, Head of the Shinra Science Department, was an unhappy man.

No, everything was fine with the wonderful Son he had created for his benevolent JENOVA, and the Reunion was showing promising signs, maybe in a few more years.

No, his other experiments were constantly failing and the President was getting increasingly tight-fisted.  Hojo had managed to get the facility for the DeepGround Project built and supplied, but now he couldn’t get the funding to sustain the Project.  His experiments kept dying and he was losing JENOVA cells- he suspected Hollander, but Hojo couldn’t afford to antagonize the man too much because the upstart had just re-negotiated the OmniCorp contract last year and the three years before that, so he couldn’t fudge those expenses- he couldn’t even complain about supply shortages as the Labs were well-supplied.  Hollander made sure to over-document that particular point.

The fact that there was a glaring discrepancy between his records and Hollander’s records was causing uncomfortable questions of the Turk kind.

The Veld-the-TURK who-never-believed-that-story-about-Valentine-and-is-after-Hojo’s-ass kind.

He could ‘retire’ a lone Turk in Nibelheim, but with his experiments going wrong, Hollander saving money, and DeepGround dead in the water, Hojo needed something to tip the balance back to his favor.

The SOLDIERS weren’t showing enough instability to incite paranoia in the President either, and Hojo’s iron fist over the SOLDIER Program was loosening, and with it, Hojo’s unlimited claim on funding.  So, that was out, he’d tried that last month.  The ‘Promised Land’ angle was sure to work, but he was losing credibility in light of the recent rash of failures.

If the Wutai situation would just explode into war already, it’d be easy to slip in disappearances and funnel money into-ah.

Ah.

That was it.

Hojo flicked off his computer as he left the office, heading to one of the secure specimen holding areas, and reached for his ‘special’ PHS- time to call in some favors, sprinkle some blackmail, and start a war.

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A body lay strapped to a lab table, hair lank with sweat, body aching with half-healed incisions, dried tear tracks on their face, and the throat was ravaged by screaming for so long.

How long had they been here?  In this dense, impersonal room with its beeping machines with eerie lights, and the glass where the monsters watch the other monsters tear them apart piece by piece and then graft them back together.  There are those imposing fluorescent lights overhead that are extra white and excruciating.  They’re scared, they want to go home, even if it’s not much of one, and how long had they been here-

Hours?

Someonehelpme--

Days?

Icanttakeanymore--

Weeks?

Ithurtsithurtsithurtsithurts--

Months?

IllbegoodImsosorryIdidntlistenpleasesaveme--

It had been a spring day when they’d been caught.  Wasn’t anyone coming for them?  Didn’t anyone care?

Times passes, or, at least, they think it passes.

Lights.  Latex.  Masks.  Knives.  Needles.  Blood.  So much blood.  Agony.  Darkness.  Nightmares.

“-stupid imbecile….into……ank…..dies……nothing!”

Then the world is green and it burns and it’s like drowning and suffocating, though aren’t those the same?  They drift and slide and slip and scream, (you can have everything, just please let this end!), and then there is something up ahead-

Flowers.

They’re standing in flowers.

“Welcome, child.”

The Planet sings.

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It had been nearly five weeks since the heir to Shinra Electric Power Company disappeared.

Three weeks since the case had been turned over to SOLDIER as there was now a possibility that this was an Act of War by Wutai in response to recent demands made by Shinra.

A day since Genesis Rhapshodos received his orders.

Genesis looked at the Turk piloting their chopper, some kid named ‘Tseng’ and his Turk partner, ‘Legend’, and then back to his compatriots.  Angeal’s look was steady as always, and Sephiroth’s brilliant green eyes were asking him what their move was going to be- Angeal and Genesis had scryed for Rufus Shinra’s location the night before- it had been crude and exhausting, but effective.

Rufus Shinra was nowhere near where they were heading; the boy was actually being held in the opposite direction.

They all knew that something fishy was going on, that Rufus Shinra’s kidnapping had been an inside job even if the kid was presumed to be in Wutai’s hands now.  Someone wanted a war, a war with Wutai specifically.

Sephiroth was actually the mission leader- thank the Planet that it was only the three of them in the chooper, it gave them a chance to do something- but Genesis was the one who made crazy odd plans work.  Sephiroth and Angeal could adapt, but Genesis was the one with the ability to change.

But what could they do with babysitters?

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Tseng sent a side-glance at Legend who nodded slightly.

The SOLDIERs are planning something.  Tseng signed discreetly.

Do you think they have new intel?

Why would they have it before us?

Maybe we’re being blamed?  Kid disappeared on TURK time.

They were Turks that President Shinra had specifically assigned and they have been absolved.

That doesn’t matter outside the Department, kid.  Legend smirked at his temporary’s partner’s scowl.

But they have no reason not to share new intel with us, specifically.

The red-head designed their new Command Center, it’s scarily efficient and secure- Scarlet has been pissed that she can’t hack it.

Why, though?  What good does it do to conceal relevant information in a rescue operation?

Just then there was a shudder that shook their entire chopper. “Shit!  We’re hit!” Legend called over the built in mics in the helmets.  “Tseng!”

“It’s no good, we’re losing altitude.”

“Mayday, mayday!”  Legend called into his headset, switching to broadwave so all the Shinra towers in range would receive the transmission. “This is Legend of the Turks we’re-“

BOOM

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 That-” Angeal snapped irritably to Genesis as he lays where he managed to cushion he and Sephiroth’s fall. “-was entirely too dramatic by half.”

“I concur with Angeal.” Sephiroth chimed in as they all lay in a pile of limbs for a moment.

“No matter where the winds may blow/My friend, your desire/Is the bringer of life, the gift of the goddess/Even if the morrow is barren of promises/Nothing shall forestall my return.” Genesis moaned as he tried to adjust himself to sit upright. “We actually got hit by something, only the second part was me.”

“We know.  That’s the part we’re talking about, you prat.” Angeal groused.

“What, exactly was I supposed to do?” Genesis growled in blatant offense, his very hair seeming to bristle as his temper spiked. “I saw a chance and took it, I even made sure the Turks wouldn’t die, but now they’re at least ten minutes away as long as we get moving.”

“Yeah, yeah, grab our shit.”

“……Sephy, did you just curse?”

“I believe the term is ‘stuff it’, Genesis.”

“My soul, corrupted by vengeance/Hath endured torment, to find the end of the journey.”

“Shut, up, the both of you, and fucking move.”

They made their way towards cover, fortunately they had gotten shot down before they got to the small towns that dotted the outskirts of Kalm, there were just clusters of houses here and there, but it would have made their lives much more difficult.  Intel had Rufus in Kalm, but they had scryed his location as Junon.

Genesis sighed as he tried to think of the best way to do this.  “Ok, let’s take turns with Sephy and line-of-sight Apparate.”

Angeal and Sephiroth gave him the looks that plan deserved.

“Legend shall speak/Of sacrifice at world's end/The wind sails over the water's surface/Quietly, but surely.  If we grab a chopper, we’d have to get in touch with our pilots.”

Angeal and Sephiroth grumbled. “What, then, is our excuse for going in the opposite direction.”

“Capture.”

“How are we going to get captured?” Sephiroth asked, wondering if he missed encroaching enemies.

Genesis sighed wearily and explained his plan as patiently as possible. “We are going to Apparate, then Confound the bad guys into thinking they captured us.  Get it now, dunderheads?”

“That…makes more sense, but it is still a shoddy plan.”

“Come up with a better plan, then.” Genesis snapped at them, snatching up his sword and stalking forward.

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Tseng came to with Legend’s hand resting lightly on his shoulder.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes.”  The Wutai native replied, trying to shake the fogginess out of his head.

“The first hit came from outside, but something strange happened while we crashing.”

“We need to move.”

“Agreed.”

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Rapid line-of-sight apparition was not fun.

Successive rapid line-of-sight apparition with a passenger was worse.

They made a little over half the distance to Junon before Genesis and Angeal couldn’t risk any more jumps and Sephiroth was thoroughly sick.  They had covered a good hundred miles, though, and were about an hour, SOLDIER jog speed, from the outskirts of the town.

“Well, let’s do this.” Angeal said after they had mostly collected themselves.

Just then a PHS rang.

It was Genesis’ and it was a number he didn’t know.

All went silent.

Fuck.

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Tseng wasn’t surprised when Genesis Rhapshodos didn’t answer his PHS, but the fact that it rang was damming.

SOLDIERs were sent into the field with PHS that were designed to not ring if the slender piece of metal inside the hinge- the flimsiest part of the device- was broken.  Either the PHS was whole and not in Captain Rhapshodos’ possession or the Captain was willfully ignoring him.  Rhapshodos could be captured, or hurt, Tseng admitted to himself, but one of his companions should have picked the PHS up if he was unable to answer, or should have hit the panic button if they had been captured or critically injured.

Tseng tried Angeal Hewley.

No answer.

Major Sephiroth.

“Hello.”

“It’s Tseng.  Where are you?”

“I am unable to relay that information at this time.”

“Major you realize that we know you’re hiding something, if you have information that is vital to this investigation you are required-“

“Turk Tseng, I am unable to relay that information at this time.”

“Your current status.”

“Vacationing.  It’s cold here.”

Tseng shot a look at Legend, who was using a Turk field kit to try to triangulate the PHS’s position.  “I told you to bring a jacket.”

“I hate extra layers, and you usually have a ridiculous three on in the mountains.”

“Ah, well, at least then people have to unravel me to get to my vitals.”

“I assure you that my vitals are not in any current danger.”

“Very well, enjoy your vacation, Major.”

“I hope we don’t see each other for a while, TURK.”

Tseng hung up.  “Did you get a location?”

“On the road, headed towards Junon.  They must have been picked up pretty soon after we crashed, they’re traveling fast.  Maybe it is an explanation for whatever the hell happened after we started going down.” Legend replied, quickly scrounging what little remained of their supplies.  “There have been rumors about unrest in Junon, but if whoever picked up our SOLDIERs has Little Shinra….”  Legend allowed his statement to trail off, but a he held a grim look on his face.

Tseng sighed and tried to put together all of the recent intel he had heard about Junon.  “Well, we need to commandeer a vehicle and head that way.  Junon is a port, I don’t want word leaking and having who it is panic and toss them or Mr. Shinra on a ship, we’d never find them again.”

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They sighed in relief as Sephiroth hung up.

“That was close.”

“Did you manage it?” Sephiroth asked.

“Yes.” Genesis panted harshly, having just long-distance Apparated twice, conjuring a snake to carry Sephiroth’s PHS tracker towards Junon while Sephiroth had been on the phone pretending to be captured.  “Infinite in mystery is the gift of the Goddess/We seek it thus, and take to the sky.”

“We need to move.” Sephiroth said grimly, “Our deception will not hold up if we are not able to convince our ‘kidnappers’ that they ‘kidnapped’ us.”

“Agreed.” Angeal and Genesis replied, though Genesis’ color was still too pale and he was sweaty.

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Chapter Text

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As in most cases of well-planned tactical genius, Murphy’s Law took them all for fools.

With Genesis being on the verge of magical exhaustion, and very nearly sleepwalking, it had fallen to Angeal to hold their Charm-Wards.  Sephiroth was walking beside Angeal on the outside, and both men were casting side-glances at Genesis, who was using the wall to support himself, still pale and shaking even after several hours had passed since his last use of his Earth Magic. 

Even knowing for certain that the lab was right underneath them, the entrance had been a bitch to find.  The fact that it was being guarded by blue-uniformed Shinra troopers only made all their concerns worse. 

“Oh, marvelous,” Genesis had snarked quietly when they finally managed to slip through the entrance. “It’s got all the classic ‘creepy-scientist-ahead’ signs.”

“Mako-powered lights, the stench of death, and an overpowering feeling of hopelessness.  This has Hojo written all over it.” Angeal had agreed grimly.

They had been creeping through the tunnels, steadily making progress towards the actual lab and specimen holding areas, when an alarm had sounded and the halls had filled with people.  The trio had flattened themselves against the wall and watched as scientists and lab techs rushed around gathering equipment and data, while the uniformed troopers herded the ‘specimens’ towards the sea-facing end of the lab and out of sight.

“It looks like they’re evacuating.” Angeal had murmured suspiciously.

“Indeed.  I wonder what has spooked them and where they are going from here.  This facility is too well funded and organized to not be a Shinra-funded lab.” Sephiroth replied, giving Genesis a worried side-glance, his flame-haired friend seemed to be getting sicker as time passed, instead of rejuvenating his Earth Magic like he normally would.

“The Shinra emblems on the lab coats and the troopers are also a good clue.”

“Precisely.  So, unless someone is here who shouldn’t be, the need to evacuate is illogical.”

Unfortunately, invisible and silent did not mean intangible.

Genesis had ended up on the end that was closest to the doorway.  A deranged-looking, vaguely humanoid specimen decided to make a break for it and rounded the corner, slamming into Genesis and violently forcing him out of the range of Angeal’s Charm-Wards.  Genesis had had just enough time to catch the horror on Angeal and Sephiroth faces to know he was screwed, and he slammed a hastily prepared glamour over himself as he fell, fully visible, to the ground.

Genesis had been swarmed by troopers and allowed himself to be taken, as there was no way the three of them could fight through all these people in such a confined space.

There had been no chance of them getting Genesis back without undue complications.  Angeal had gnashed his teeth in barely-restrained fury and Sephiroth had clutched the hilt of his sword in helpless rage, but they could only watch as their friend was herded with the other ‘specimens’ to the sea-side of the lab.

“Angeal.” Sephiroth’s voice was calm even though the man felt anything but, “we need to trick them into thinking that they caught us and that we escaped.  Gen is smart, he’ll give them a fake name and weave a believable story, but we have to cover for him.  We need to be quick, as they are most likely transporting these people by ship, and one of us needs to be on it so the other can meet up with the TURKs and track it.”

Angeal took a few deep breaths and they grimly set to work.

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Genesis Rhapshodos woke feeling like his head was stuffed full of cotton, or, like that time he had tried to outdo Sephiroth in a drinking contest- which was the one and only time he had drank more than a glass or two of wine.

Funny, he usually only felt this way after being….

Drugged.

It all came crashing back into him.  The chopper crashing, the labs, being actually captured-

“Dammit.” He swore quietly, opening his eyes to slits and trying to take in his surroundings. 

He immediately wished he had just kept his eyes closed.  He was in a dank cell that would not have been out of place in the founding ages of Hogwarts, the walls were stone on the backside, but iron bars separated them from each other and freedom.  Genesis could sense that the bars were tech-enhanced as well.  There was very little light, just a faint glow from the bars and whatever came from the crack under the hallway door.  Around him were other people, all filthy, starving, and desperate looking.  Some had burns; others had weeping, infected-looking wounds.  Most had given up and were surviving on animalistic instinct by now, he noted sadly.

There are children in these cages.  Little more than babies.  Genesis realized with no small amount of horror.  There seemed to be about five people in each section, with no discernable pattern to their placements.

He realized that his cage was at the end of the hallway, most likely closest to the labs.  Apparently, even asleep he needed close supervision.  Looking around, he noted that he was in a cell with two child-sized bodies and what looked like a teenager.  The two smaller children’s breathing patterns were stressed and they violently shuddered every once in a while, the youngest was held in the teen’s arms and the slightly bigger one had their head in their lap, the teen was leaning against the stone wall.  Seeing the teenager stir, Genesis quietly asked. “How long have I been out?”

“Oh!” A subdued female voice spoke softly. “It’s been almost ten days!  They stopped sedating you yesterday- well, I think it was yesterday, it’s hard to tell time here.”

Genesis groaned, hoping that Angeal and Sephiroth had managed to come up with a rescue plan. “Why am I stuck in here with the babies?”

The teenager snorted derisively. “I don’t know who you’re calling a baby, mister.  I’m ten, those two are seven and two.”

Genesis blanched, this is worse than I thought.  “Where are your parents?”

The child, (child!), scowled at him, “Where do you, think?  Dead or dying, I suppose.”

“You suppose?”

He could feel the glare she sent him. “Look, I realize that waking up after ten days is disorienting, but we’re all stuck in Dr. Creepy’s lab by force, this isn’t a vacation, so cut it out with the personal questions, alright?”

Genesis suddenly realized that he was very much being an insensitive berk. “There is no hate, only joy/For you are beloved by the goddess/Hero of the dawn, Healer of worlds.” He murmured reservedly.  Wait.  “Dr. Creepy?”

She gave him a flat stare. “Are you being stupid on purpose?”

“No, last I remember was Junon.”

She gaped quietly. “Then you’ve been asleep way longer than ten days, mister.  Most of us are the survivors from Kalm.”

Genesis’ eyes narrowed. “What happened in Kalm?”

“I was really injured and I don’t remember much, most of what I know is from the other survivors.  Apparently, there was an accident and part of Kalm was firebombed.  Shinra is probably saying that it was Wutai, but all the survivors agree that it was Shinra equipment.”

Genesis cursed, Rufus was supposed to be in Kalm, that would incite the President to action.  He has to appear to be a doting father or his public will turn against him.  “So, I take it Hojo or Hollander are ‘treating the survivors’.”

“Hojo.”

“Fuck.”

“It’s been ten days since you were brought to this cell, but if you were held in another area or….if you’ve been on a table, I don’t know.  You could have been out for a little over a month, that’s about how long ago the Kalm situation happened.”

“My friend, do you fly away now?/To a world that abhors you and I?”

“What are you quoting?”  She asked curiously.

“LOVELESS.”

“Doesn’t that Genesis SOLDIER guy do that all the time?  I think it was in his info box on one of the SOLDIER recruitment posters.  I can kind of remember reading one.” She inquired, scrunching up her nose in an effort to concentrate.

Genesis opened his mouth to respond, to tell the little hellion that he was Genesis Rhapshodos not some Genesis SOLDIER guy, before he realized that his Earth Magic was still holding onto that shitty glamour he had cast right before he got caught.  “Oh, yeah, I’ve heard that before.” He managed lamely.

She gave him a weird look- he could feel it, even if he couldn’t see it all that well- and his vision was enhanced.  “Well, if you’re from the Junon lab, did you hear about that guy who almost escaped?  They caught him almost at the entrance.  Some of the older prisoners are calling him ‘The Chosen One’.”

Genesis choked, his dry throat making an odd sound as air passed through it ineffectually.  “What?”

The little brat’s body language seemed amused. “Yeah, some pottery guy or something.  He’d managed to erase his existence from security and almost made it out.  Supposedly he is going to lead us to the Promised Land.  Or, that’s what is keeping morale up at least.”

Genesis felt like Fate was laughing at him.  “Harry Potter?” He asked tentatively, not really wanting to know what name he’d apparently given them.

“Hey, that’s it!”  She sounded pretty excited, “Do you know him?”

“That’s me.” Genesis stated dryly, entirely unamused by the universe’ sense of humor.

“Whoa!  Really?  That must be why you’re with us.”

“Yes, why are we segregated?” he asked, stamping down the habitual need for a line or two of LOVELESS and trying to move the conversation along. 

“Oh, I was given a number and tapped for some sort of Materia promo-proho-

“Prototype?”

“Yeah, that’s the word!  Materia Prototype, experiment- at least that is what I understood from the snatches of conversation that I was awake for.”  She gestured to the two girls who shared their cell.  “These two do something weird to computers, but they aren’t sure which one.  Whatever it is doesn’t happen when they are apart, though.  But it’s been about a week since anyone has been on a table; I think most of the experiments are on hold for some reason.” The girl explained, seemingly quite comfortable talking to her cellmate about the latest gossip.

This situation was bizarre.

Genesis sent a silent prayer to Mother that it was because Sephiroth and Angeal were raising hell over his capture.  “So, why are the brats still sleeping?  Shouldn’t they be awake by now?”

The girl shook her head sadly as she ran her fingers through the littlest one’s hair, “They had a bad reaction last time they were on the table, and they’ve been like this ever since.”

Genesis leaned against the stone wall and sighed.  I have my wand and weapons under the glamour, but I’m too weak to do anything unless I am sure that it will work.  I don’t know where I am, or if I’ve been declared dead or what.  There’s no way I’ve been ‘on the table’ yet, or someone would have noticed my gear, or at least that something was off.  I’m not sure how much longer that luck will hold, though.

Angeal, Sephiroth, please hurry.

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Angeal and Sephiroth were, in fact, raising hell over Genesis’ disappearance.

Surprisingly, so were the Turks.

Their leader, Veld, had been on the warpath and all of the upper managers at Shinra were getting antsy as a result.

Entertaining borderline-hostile Turk attention was not a good place to find oneself.

However, whenever the two men would get a chance to slip down to ask Aerith for help, she would just smile knowingly at the two distraught men.  Though she’d taken to finding decent-sized stones and carving runes into them, humming happily to herself as she did so.

The third week after Genesis’ disappearance, she’d asked the two men to buy up some property in Sector Five that was near the Church.  The Church was in a rather dilapidated area, so there were lots of squatters, but the actual ‘owners’ were unknown.

When she asked Angeal to buy a few houses not far from the Church, he had merely nodded and done as she’d asked, Sephiroth chipping in and doubling their real estate unexpectedly.

Aerith had kissed his cheek and skipped off humming a happy tune.

They hadn’t have the heart to tell her that Sephiroth had mostly chipped in to spite Scarlet, who was the technical owner of the land. 

And, naturally, Angeal had disguised the two and made fake papers so Shinra didn’t actually know that Angeal and Sephiroth owned a good majority of Sector Five, Below the Plate.

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Aerith- who was Luna who was Aerith- went around placing her carefully carved Ward stones in strategic places.

While some of Luna’s Magic had carried over from Earth, it was quite a bit less than what followed Genesis and Angeal.  The fact that she was a blended soul also contributed, as Aerith had been born with a naturally strong proclivity for Mana use.  She was able to be far more precise with her spellcasting than either of the boys- they had travelled to the Forgotten City to get her one- or Luna had been a Ravenclaw on top of being a Lovegood.

Therefore the Ward Scheme she was planning was far more thorough, yet subtle, than anything the boys had done thus far.  Her superior knowledge of obscure Runic Languages and how things such as the materials that were used, the moon’s phase when the runes were drawn, and the stars’ positions- though they were all different here on Gaea, how exciting!- interacted was especially useful in making her work far more powerful.  She also was well aware of how to hide a society within a society, as that was something the Lovegood family had excelled at. 

After all, few would equate ‘Algernon Croaker’ with Xeno Lovegood, no?  They also would be surprised to find that the Unspeakables were just the cover organization for the Unmentionables.  While an Unmentionable was an Unspeakable, if you were found to be untrustworthy- such as Albus Dumbledore, who failed the Trial of Principle; or Augustus Rookwood, who failed the Trial of Intent- you were never granted access to the truly captivating varieties of magical studies.

She giggled to herself as she worked.  ‘No one would fear the Dread Pirate Wesley!’  She murmured aloud as she used Magic to anchor her stones just below the Plate itself.

When Aerith was finished laying her foundation, it was nearly two weeks later, and the Planet whispered to her that Genesis was waking.

Aerith stood in The Haven and concentrated on her connection with the Planet, while the part of her that was Luna focused on her connection with her Earth Magic.

A moment of stillness, then a rush of power as the stones spark and the Wards flare into existence as per their combined wills.

A laugh is carried on the charged winds as Aerith sways with exhaustion and crumbles into the bed of flowers that she was standing in.

And as her head kisses the flowers she smiles, bright and triumphant and brilliant-

The Planet sings.

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Genesis felt the exact moment the Wards over Sector Five came into existence.

Though he didn’t know exactly what happened, he could feel the surge of Earth Magic, even though his incredibly strained connection with Mother.

As he started awake he could feel his Earth Magic finally begin to replenish.

Genesis gazed around at his fellow captives and hardened his resolve.

It was time.

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Angeal shivered as the Earth Magic washed over him and he grinned sharply.

Sephiroth raised an eyebrow.  “Care to explain?”

The dark haired man flicked his eyes toward the other and nodded subtly towards the security cameras.  “I think that we should go visit our little flower.” 

“Ah.”  Sephiroth replied smoothly, though his brows contracted in thought.

“Don’t worry.”  Angeal replied, clapping a friendly hand on the other’s shoulder and squeezing briefly.  “I just have a good feeling about what’s going to happen.”

“Oh?”  Sephiroth’s left eyebrow quirked up again, but he was hopelessly confused.  They were currently walking down one of Shinra’s many hallways trying to find Lazard so they could browbeat the man into letting them go look for Genesis.  The young blonde had been appointed the Coordinator of the SOLDIER Program not two weeks ago.  It was a new position that was more like and understudy of the Director position, but they preferred the young blonde to Heidegger’s flunky, so they were taking advantage of that fact.

“Just a feeling.”  Angeal answered again, one of those annoyingly secretive smiles on his face.  “Just a feeling.”

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Getting out of the cell was tricky, but totally doable for Genesis now that he felt his reserves replenishing.

He quickly organized the others from nearby cells and started making his way through the underground tunnels, trying to find a way back towards the surface.  He was also cheating like hell with his Earth Magic.

Only his long experience with ‘sanitizing’ Hojo’s Midgar Labs allowed him to walk among the cages and grant mercy to those unfortunate souls that had been corrupted beyond reckoning or unable to continue as they were.

The fortunate looked away or tried to suppress their sobs, but no one voiced any objections to him, even when those he granted a quick death to were loved ones to the living.

It was when they had finally reached a point where they could smell fresh(er) air that they started running into monsters, but Genesis was able to cut down the twisted creatures with his sword- which he had recovered from one of the storage rooms- and some low-level Materia use.  On and on they plodded, the stronger supporting the weaker ones as Genesis carved a path towards freedom.

There weren’t any Shinra troopers about, but there were some scientists that met the blade of Genesis Rhapshodos, as Genesis had neither the time nor the inclination to spare those who were partaking of such depraved experiments.

He’d send them back to Mother and let the Lifestream deal with them.

It was in the dimly lit tunnels of the mansion that Genesis came across a room of crypts.  Mother’s gentle guidance caused him to ghost through the room, checking each crypt as he passed them, eventually coming upon a man who looked-

That is totally Snape without a huge nose and fascination with black.  Genesis thought in morbid amusement as he took in the well-persevered, ghostly pale white man with inky dark hair inside the largest crypt.  Though there is a large amount of black.  He mentally amended.

Then the man’s red eyes snapped open and startled the hell out of Genesis.  “My friend, the fates are cruel!”  Genesis burst out.  “For the love of Gaea you gave me a heart attack!”  The normally red-haired man held a hand to his chest as he tried to steady his breathing.

“Why have you awakened me.”  The smooth, but husky from disuse, voice rumbled out disapprovingly as red eyes roved over the small group of survivors before fixating upon Genesis’ form.  “I must atone for my sins.  Leave.”  And the man reached for the crypt lid.

Genesis huffed and grabbed the edge of the thing before the man could seal himself away.  “Look, Mr. I-Must-Atone, I fully intend to set this place on fire so you’d better-“

“It is nothing less than I deserve.”  The man intoned gravely.  “My sins-“

Genesis tamped down on the urge to quote LOVELESS.  “You sound like old-Sephiroth with that monotone shit.”  He muttered under his breath.

The man’s gaze suddenly sharpened and an alertness seemed to come alive within them.  “Sephiroth.”

“Er, yeah.”  Genesis said, a bit taken aback by the sharp turn the conversation had taken.  “Best friend of Genesis Rhapshodos and Angeal Hewley?  Major Sephiroth of Shinra’s SOLDIER Program?”

“SOLDIER Program?  Shinra?  Major?”  The man snarled furiously, finally ceasing in his attempt to tug the crypt lid out of Genesis’ hand and sitting up.

Genesis quirked an eyebrow.  “Yeah.  That.  Listen, I can tell you all about it, but we need to move.”

“You will.”  The man said sternly as he nimbly hopped out of the coffin.  “If you value your life.”

Definitely Snape without the nose.  Genesis thought sourly.  “Great.”  He deadpanned.  “But first we need to finish clearing this place and make it go up in pretty, pretty flames.”

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The closer they came to the actual building that the Lab was seated beneath, the more assistants and live specimen they came across.  Fortunately, Not-Snape had found a sidearm in one of the side rooms and was a decent shot.

He also was pretty good about not making his shots heard, but Genesis tried to keep him within the Silencing Ward’s range just to be safe.

They walked through a library and Not-Snape led them up a set of stairs and tripped a level that made the wall slide back and open up into a rather dismal parlor.

Genesis was trying to keep the survivors together and so the next bit of the Manor blurred a bit in his memory, but he sure as Gaea heard the scream of the Odin Materia.  Genesis was quick to snatch the Materia up, but was wholly taken off-guard by the blob-ish thing that came flying towards him moments later.

The next few minutes were spent with the survivors screaming fearfully as Genesis tersely barked out for the red-caped man to take them and go as he leapt towards the beast.  “Get them out of here!  Try to find a back door!  This place is bound to have more security in the front!”

Genesis was particularly skilled with Materia, so he fired off one of his favorite fire-flavored spells only for it to have no effect whatsoever.  Cursing as the beast charged him the man ducked and rolled to the side as he tried to keep the thing’s attention focused solely on him.  The man was pleased to note, with the brief glance he managed to spare towards their direction, that Not-Snape was actually herding the survivors out towards what he assumed was the back.

Able to focus wholly on his enemy, the red-haired Cetra noted that the thing seemed to take a little physical damage after his magic attack, but that it wasn’t continuing to do so.

Alright then.  Genesis back-flipped smoothly and skidded under the thing, casting a fire spell as he did so.  Once he was clear of the thing he leapt up and brought Rapier down viciously.

So that’s how it is.  Genesis though triumphantly as he noted the color changes and which side took damage as he ducked and rolled under the thing’s counter-attack.  “Infinite in mystery is the gift of the Goddess/We seek it thus, and take to the sky.”  He grunted out spitefully as he readied his next attack. 

….which he had to hastily abort so as not to receive a massive magic attack to the face for his troubles.

“For the love of Mother where is Angeal and his big-ass sword when you need him?!”  He yelped as he backpedaled and tried to put some distance between them.

Those idiots had better be raising hell.  He thought grumpily.  And Angeal better have watered my damn plants!

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A boy with weary eyes and a broken heart and a teen with a single minded purpose and nothing to lose meet in a field and sea and sky of green.

The boy is finally in a place that feels like home and the teen is finally near the person that could become home.

The boy smiles at the teen, blue eyes bright with unshed tears, as love and acceptance and laughter close in around him and warm his soul.  It’s new and exciting and different from anything that’s he’s ever known.  He wants to stay, to feel this love and acceptance and warmth until he forgets his name and his past and everything that defined the life that he lived before this moment.

Yet he can feel the strings of Fate tugging him back.  Back towards needles and deceptions and coldness and fake smiles and dead flowers and painpainpain-

May I stay?  He begs the green around him, falling to his knees as the tugs become harsher and the flowers at the edges of the sea and sky of green begin to blur.

Please let me stay!  He sobs desperately as he curls desperate fingers into the soft, warm soil that feels alive under his touch.

The teen smiles kindly at the boy with the weary eyes and reaches out a hand in offering.

I’ll take your place.  The teen exhales gently into the green between them and the boy with the weary eyes accepts the offer without hesitation.  As soon as he takes the other’s hand the tugging sensation ceases, and the teen begins to disappear. 

I’ll take your place and you can stay here.  Thank you.  The teen sighs into the air between them as his form disperses into green vapor.

The boy smiles at nothing and everything as he is left alone in a sea and sky of green.  But not for long because the most beautiful, warm, happy people he’s ever seen come to greet him.  Then there are other children who want to play with him and he laughs and laughs and laughs as he runs deeper into the green where he fades into the purest part of the Lifestream.

The Planet sings.

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There had been a partial code that he’d found after defeating the thing, and he scoured the nearby rooms for the rest of it.  Once he’d entered the code, he had found himself opening up the door that led towards the area that they’d come from.  A hunch and a nudge from Mother saw him sneaking back down and following a route that he hadn’t noticed before, which led to a much more contained set of rooms filled to the brim with contaminated Mako.

He knew it was the Planet’s blood.  Condensed Lifestream.  Mako was easier to say.  And it didn’t get him in trouble in normal conversation.

It was there that he’d found Hojo’s smarmy SIC and disposed of the cretin before he’d turned around and locked eyes with Rufus Shinra.

The boy had smiled brightly at him, despite being naked and floating in a tank of caustic contaminated Mako.  Mother’s presence seemed to surge around him as he walked closer to the tank.

“Uncle Harry.”  The boy mouthed clearly in English.  “It’s me, Teddy.”

Fucking hell.  Genesis thought dazedly as Mother’s delighted laugh seemed to dance through his awareness.

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It had been Sephiroth’s idea to check out the Nibelheim region. 

While most of Sephiroth’s early memories were still obscured, despite the Calamity cells that resided within him being neutralized, he did vaguely remember the mountains and an older but serviceable manor house.

It had taken some trial and error, but with Angeal’s help he’d narrowed down the location to the Nibel Mountains based on things he could remember.  Things like how cold or warm it was or how many people he remembered being nearby.  If there were farmers nearby or the food came to the Labs in trucks, that sort of thing.

They knew that nothing less than Shinra-grade tech could possibly knock Genesis out or render him unconscious for this long.  Genesis also was well-known and easily recognizable, and the stories that Shinra was spoon-feeding the masses about Hojo ‘heroically’ treating the survivors went against everything that they personally knew about the depraved scientist.

Also, there hadn’t been any actual sightings of survivors from Kalm just yet, and Rufus Shinra was still missing, presumably in Wutai’s custody.  With Shinra gearing up for war Angeal and Sephiroth had been kept busy with preparations, but since there wasn’t a body or truly concrete evidence of Wutai’s involvement, Old Man Shinra couldn’t quite get the public’s backing for a war. 

While Old Man Shinra didn’t quite have the backing he wanted to go to war, it was evident that that was his goal.  Because of this Angeal and Sephiroth were currently stationed in Rocket Town as a ‘precautionary measure’.

Genesis was officially listed as MIA, as the Turks had corroborated Angeal and Sephiroth’s testimony of being ‘kidnapped’, which was probably the only thing that kept Shinra from listing Genesis as KIA- otherwise known as being ‘ghosted’ and being regulated to Hojo’s Playground if he ever was found.

As they were basically ‘grounded’ until Shinra decided to make its move, they worked from what they knew and what Angeal’s Earth Magic could tell him, which had enabled them to narrow down the locations to small, nearly ghost towns that dotted the various ranges of Gaea.    That had been quite a breakthrough, actually.  From there they had corresponded the locations of those towns to Mako reactors, as all Shinra equipment was based on Mako-power, and a Lab the size of Hojo’s would need both power and access to raw Mako for all the slimy scientist’s experimental needs.

That factor had cut the number likely locations down to under a half a dozen towns.

When their stealthy research uncovered the fact that the Mako reactor in the Nibel Mountains was the first reactor, well they had decided that that was a good a place as any to start scouring the area for their missing friend.  The fact that the Science Department had no records of a Lab being in that location, despite their being a Shinra property nearby had all but sealed their suspicions in stone.

The next part of their plan had been complicated by the Turks showing up just as the helicopters they were signing out for a ‘Readiness Run’ had been cleared for engine start-up.

“Afternoon, gentlemen.  Going somewhere?”  Veld had asked in a pleasant voice that had sent shivers down Angeal’s spine.

“Readiness Run, Director Veld.”  Sephiroth’s voice had been as level as always when addressing someone other than Genesis, Angeal, or Aerith, but Angeal was internally having a panic attack.

Oh, Planet.  What the hell are we going to do?! Angeal freaked out inside his mind as he did his best to remain calm and composed on the surface, lest he give the assassins reason to detain them or worse.

“Ah.”  Director Veld smiled, the creases around his eyes crinkling merrily as he gestured to the two other Turks who were with him.  “Then you wouldn’t mind a few more eyes on board, yes?”

“Of course not, Director.”  Angeal interjected smoothly, doing his level best to not seem nervous. 

“Indeed.”  Thank Gaea that Sephiroth had gotten plenty of practice with rolling with Genesis’ crazy plans, because it allowed the man to pick up on Angeal’s idea, which the dark-haired man was trying to project to the other through sheer willpower. 

Sephiroth gestured to the two helicopters behind them.  “These are the new models that are designed to travel through rougher conditions.  We were thinking of taking them over the Nibel Mountains and looping around Nibelheim to receive a better understanding of their handling and to get a better feel for their fuel efficiency.”

“A brilliant idea, Major.”  Director Veld acknowledged agreeably.  “Well, we won’t be in the way much and it is important for the SOLDIERs and the TURKs to be able to work in tandem during these troubled times.”

“Of course, Director.”  Sephiroth and Angeal responded in tandem.

Director Veld gestured to his Turks.  “Tseng you’re with Major Sephiroth and I.  Legend you’re with Captain Hewley.”

“Yes, sir!”

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Genesis met back up with the group a little singed and battered, but alive and functioning.  He’d also discovered a little safe and some other things while he’d been poking around.

Oh, and Rufus Shinra.

Who was supposedly his Godson, who he left on Earth when Mother had called him and Angeal home.

If the little imp pulled a Luna, Genesis was going to have a coronary.

They were in the mountains- as they had gone up from the reactor- which of course meant dragons, but fortunately Not-Snape was surprisingly good at navigating the terrain.

Of course, there was the threat of imminent nightfall in the freaking mountains of Nibel- Genesis could recognize Nibelheim in the distance.  Not to mention the burning inferno that was the Shinra Mansion in the not-so-afar distance.

Genesis was particularly gleeful about that part.

Elfè- his not-a-baby cell-mate- was walking beside him, trying to keep the littlest member of their cell comfortable, while the slightly older girl who was the littlest one’s sister was clinging to Elfè’s shirt and trying to walk on her own.

Just as Genesis was beginning to despair- as carrying Rufus-Teddy was tiring despite his Earth Magic and Cetra abilities and Mako enhancements- there were sounds in the distance.

Helicopters.

Shinra helicopters.

This was either really awesome or the-worst-thing-ever kind of terrible.

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Upon seeing the bright flames that were painting the dying day’s sky red, Angeal and Sephiroth had the same reactions.

I bet money Genesis was there.  They both thought exasperatedly from their places in their respective pilot’s seats.  Gen’s such a pyro.  They thought fondly as they angled their choppers to go lower, trying to see if they could spot any movement on the ground.

Director Veld and Tseng also exchanged glances, but theirs were more along the lines of what the hell is going on.

It was shortly after spotting the large inferno on the ground that they caught sight of flares being sent up.

Well, to be more accurate it was Genesis using his Fire Materia to send up bright flashes for light to direct their attention to him.

It didn’t take long for them to find places to land, and that is when the SOLDIERs’ day got even weirder.

Genesis- because Sephiroth and Angeal could feel the resonance they had with the man, even though he looked far different from Genesis- was carrying a tiny blonde boy that Angeal and Sephiroth suspected would end up being the missing Shinra heir.  However, that would have to wait because Director Veld- the Director of the TURKs and consummate professional- had taken a good look at Genesis’ companion, who was holding a girl barely older than a toddler and had another child clinging to the edge of her shirt and went still as a statue.

“Felicia.”  Director Veld breathed out in a whisper-soft voice that one usually used in prayer.  “Felicia you’re alive.”

The girl’s brows furrowed and she squinted her eyes as if she were in pain.  “Felicia?  I’m Elfè, mister.”  She shifted the child in her arms and fished out a necklace.  “It’s on my necklace, see?”

Director Veld shook his head and walked closer to the girl, stopping just an arm’s length away from her.  Veld opened his arms as if he expected the girl to step forward so he could embrace her.  “No, sweetheart.  I bought you that necklace when you were little.  It was my mother’s name.  You’re Felicia.  I’m Veld-“

The girl whimpered and nearly dropped the girl she carrying as she clutched at her head.  Fortunately Veld stepped forward quickly and caught them both, though the child who was clutching the girl he called Felicia’s shirt squawked in protest.

Veld hugged the whimpering girl and rubbed her back soothingly.  “Shh, it’s alright.  Daddy’s here, sweetheart.”  He murmured to her as she whimpered and mumbled into his chest. 

Looking around from his vantage point over Felicia’s head after a few moments of breathing in the fact that his daughter was alive and mentally vowing that Hojo was going to die for lying to his face, Veld finally took note the other people who were gathered nearby- including a man he believed to be long-dead who was staring at Veld and Felicia with a sorrowful, bittersweet look in his achingly familiar red eyes.  

Veld directed a stern look- that was entirely unhindered by his sunglasses, mind you- towards Sephiroth, and Angeal.  “Now.”  He rumbled lowly, soft enough to not disturb the now-crying girl in his arms.  “Would be a good time to explain yourselves.  The truth, if you wouldn’t mind.”

“My soul, corrupted by vengeance/Hath endured torment, to find the end of the journey.”  The disguised Genesis muttered tiredly.

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Chapter Text

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Genesis pillowed his face into his arms and sighed melodramatically.  “I’m so tired.”  He moaned pathetically.

“We’re all tired, Gen.” Angeal replied patiently, though one could hear the stress and exhaustion in his tone of voice.

“Yeah, well-“ Genesis’ voice was too muffled for his liking, so he turned his head to the side so he could pin Angeal and Sephiroth with a one-eyed stare.  They were in one of the houses that had been purchased by Angeal and Sephiroth- the one they had designated as ‘their house’.  Specifically they were all in the house’s designated ‘office’ space, too exhausted to even contemplate moving to their rooms.  Genesis was seated at the end of the somewhat funky yet chic desk, his rolly office chair pushed slightly back to accommodate his position.  Angeal was seated in the room’s rather broken-in but supremely comfortable straight-backed chair catty-cornered from Genesis, while Sephiroth was sprawled gracefully on the room’s carefully patched but also obscenely comfortable red leather couch.  “- I just wanted to profess the feeling for all of us.”  He finished grandly, eying Sephiroth shrewdly and trying to calculate his possible success chances of replacing said man on the comfortable couch.

Genesis adored that piece of furniture.

Originally a dilapidated, half wooden structure that had been haphazardly patched and messily held together by bits and bobs that had been gathered from the trash and  whatever else that could be found.  The structure had been renovated nicely, and for all it was under the Plate it was quite cozy.  A modest two-story that was now done in shades of homey reds and rich crèmes with tasteful accents of bold colors, the small place practically radiated warmth. 

A lot had happened in the months since the ‘Nibelheim Event’.  With the assistance of the Turks everyone from Nibelheim- as Kalm had been utterly destroyed- had been relocated to Sector Five, under the Plate.  It had taken some creative verbal gymnastics, but the survivors were mostly so relieved to have been rescued and eager to stay that way that transitioning them had been relatively painless.

Sort of. 

There was a story about a rogue element in Shinra and how the Turks were currently ‘investigating’ and ‘couldn’t guarantee’ their safety if they left the designated ‘safe areas’ that had a lot to do with gaining the people’s compliance.  The fact that Genesis Rhapshodos had been among the prisoners also helped drive home the fact that the ‘rogue element’ was rather powerful- as Genesis was rather well-known and a SOLDIER.  The fact that the Turks, Sephiroth and Angeal Hewley were the ones doing the rescuing also helped ease people’s minds, because with that sort of manpower and dedication chasing them, these ‘rogue elements’ didn’t stand much of a chance for long!

So between the balance of fear and gratitude the people were relocated with rather minimal fuss.

Genesis’ rather passionate speech about helping them rebuild their homes and lives in Kalm once it was safe to do so had also greatly contributed to the rallying of the people.  Genesis had also been insufferably smug about the whole thing, too.

Since they had skilled laborers and the people possessed a strong sense of innovation among them the people had been quickly organized and put to work.  Renovations, proposed factories, schools, and even a few clinics had popped up and slowly but surely the people were building a life.  The fact that the area was being regularly being patrolled by the Turks kept most of the underworld’s crime bosses away, and the random visits from Shinra’s star SOLDIERs also served as a deterrent.

“Yeah, well, we should enjoy the peace while it lasts.”  Sephiroth slurred tiredly, not even bothering to try to speak properly.  “According to Tseng there has actually been legitimate Wutai Rebellion activity and if it grows much more it will actually present a clear and present danger to Rocket Town.”

Genesis straightened for a moment, eying Sephiroth’s position on the couch enviously before he huffed and slid to his feet, rounding the desk and throwing himself into the comfortable, sturdy office chair that sat behind the desk proper that Angeal had been sitting in not too long before.  The burly man had gone to the loo and hadn’t returned to his previous position, so Genesis took the opportunity to discard his rolly chair in favor one without wheels.

Genesis had had too many accidents for him to push his luck in those things.  Tipping them over somehow hurt more than over balancing a normal chair, in Genesis’ humble opinion.

Once he was comfortably arranged, he replied to Sephiroth’s statement.  “And they’re sure that it was a legit threat and not he-who-shall-not-be-named?  Also, why, precisely, haven’t we killed them yet?”

Both Angeal and Sephiroth chuckled at Genesis’ name for Hojo.  Hollander was usually called you-know-who.  It amused them all greatly.

“Because simply eliminating Hojo himself will not eradicate all of his mad schemes.”  Vincent replied from his relaxed position against the doorjamb.  While Vincent still wore his red headband in his hair, the tattered red cape had been exchanged for a deep wine-red red trench coat with a high collar and silver buckles.  It contrasted nicely with his white button up and black slacks, not to mention the plethora of leather belts and straps the man seemed to need.  Since they were unsure if the sabaton that Vincent had been wearing had an actual purpose, Angeal and Genesis had modified the things to appear as normal, high-end leather dress shoes unless Vincent purposefully channeled Mana into the Materia that resided within the sturdy heels of the footwear, which would cause them to morph back into the gold sabaton he’d been sleeping in. 

Genesis had simply told the man- and the Turks- that he was simply ‘blessed by the Goddess’ in all things Materia-related when they had presented the transfigured footwear to Vincent, instead of informing them of the Earth Magic that was actually woven around the Materia.  Since Genesis had successfully bullshitted away his altered appearance in Nibelheim as the result of a Materia Experiment- which the Turks had grilled him about mercilessly and they had been supremely disappointed that no one else could replicate the feat, (Angeal had purposefully failed to lend credit to Genesis’ story)- the explanation had actually been accepted.

Therefore, while Vincent still looked like someone that wasn’t to be messed with, he did not stick out nearly as badly as he had prior to his wardrobe change.

“Vincent!”  Genesis greeted cheerfully.  “When did you guys get back?”

The man arched a sable eyebrow at the grinning redhead but glided into the room and took a seat in a high-backed chair opposite of Angeal.  “Just now.  Felicia is at The Haven with the others at the moment, but Legend is watching over them and Veld is visiting his daughter, so there was no need for me to remain.”

“In other words, Aerith tried to force another flower crown on you, didn’t she?”  Angeal interjected, his voice suspiciously amused.  Vincent’s deadpan glare only caused Angeal to break out into deep chuckles and a few moments later both Sephiroth and Genesis’ sounds of amusement joined them.

After a few moments of amusement at Vincent’s expense- Aerith was utterly determined to plop a flower crown onto the man, and she had all of Luna’s sneakiness to fall back on- Genesis asked,  “Was Rufus there, too?”

As far as the Turks and Vincent knew Rufus Shinra had ardently attached himself to Genesis due to a rather understandable case of hero-worship.  Seeing as how Genesis had also been responsible for returning Veld’s thought-to-be-dead daughter to him, the Turks were assisting the young Shinra in keeping in contact with Genesis.  The fact that Rufus had- rather passionately- stated his desires to replace his father and make Shinra a company to be proud of had also endeared him to the Turks.

The Turks were the best and had their pride, after all.

The Turks did Shinra’s dirty work, and while a certain amount of that simply came with being the ‘dogs’ of a large corporation, the company was nothing like it had been.  Shinra Electric had been in business for nearly two centuries prior to the Mako Revolution and the Turks had existed since the beginning.  The Department of Administrative Research had been commissioned by the wife of the first President Shinra as a way for the strong willed woman to assist her husband.  The first President Shinra had been an inventor and had stumbled upon the way to properly conduct an electrical charge while his brother went on to invent the first reliable long-lasting electric lightbulb.  The brothers took out a loan against the family homestead in order to build the first electric power station, and while it nearly failed- trying to keep up with demand and surges had been quite momentous issues back then- the Shinra family eventually came to prominence as the premier provider of electricity.

The current President’s father had been a much beloved man by both his employees and the people who used Shinra’s services.  It was largely the legacy of charisma and charm left behind by the late Livingston Shinra that that had allowed Ramsay Shinra to get by with all of his shady, illicit dealings.  The public was simply used to Shinra being a reliable, steadfast cornerstone of their lives and that legacy of excellence combined with Shinra’s prolific propaganda machine and the Turks’ efforts kept the company from being exposed as the decaying, festering blight that it had come to be.

With Rufus’ new outlook and his fixation with Genesis, however, the Turks could hold on to the hope that the company would fall into better hands in the next decade or so- and that was a lot more light at the end of the tunnel than they had had for a very long time.

“He was.”  Vincent replied with a small smile tugging at his lips.  “He will more than likely come over before he returns home for the evening, he seemed very…….enthusiastic about something that he wished to speak with you about.”

Sephiroth snorted a dry laugh and peeked over at the now-groaning Genesis.  “What were you saying about being tired again, Gen?”

“My friend, the fates are cruel/There are no dreams, no honor remains.”  Genesis muttered mournfully before turning his most pathetic face to Angeal.  “Ang….”  Genesis whined.

Angeal and Sephiroth both laughed at the red-head’s misfortune.

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“I have a brother!”  Rufus crowed excitedly as he threw himself into his Godfather’s arms, eliciting an exaggerated groan of pain from Genesis.  “Isn’t that awesome, Uncle Genesis?!”

“Off, you’re getting heavy, imp!” Genesis playfully grunted as he caught the child mid hug-tackle and swung the boy around a few times before setting him on his feet again.  “And what’s this about a brother?”

Rufus- Teddy was rather glad that he could pass off not always smoothly responding to his name as a side-effect of trauma- grinned brightly up at Genesis, wobbling slightly and reaching out to curl childish fingers into the warm cotton of Genesis’ shirt to keep himself steady, despite his Godfather’s gentle grip on his shoulders.  Teddy- Rufus he reminded himself absently- took a moment wherein he allowed his eyes to slip closed as he basked in the still slightly new feeling of being within arm’s reach of his Godfather.   While seeing his Godfather with different colored hair and a few other differences was a bit strange, the way the teen seemed to exude warmth, safety, and affection made it easy for Teddy to connect the red-haired teen to the hazy memories he held of Harry Potter.   Angeal was much the same- though the dark-haired, somewhat burly teen was much calmer than the rather theatrical-prone Genesis, but between the two of them they made transitioning to Gaea quite smooth.

Teddy still caught himself thinking of himself as ‘Teddy’ instead of ‘Rufus’ pretty often, but his Godfather and his Godfather’s friends had a tendency to call him ‘imp’ so that made things a bit easier.  Not having to concentrate in order to keep his Metamorph talent under control was still a pretty new feeling for him, but the talent he’d inherited from his Mum had been lost to him while he’d still been on Earth- before he’d even drank the Adoption Potion!- so while it was still a bit strange, he’d already had mostly come to terms with losing that part of himself.  On a related note, apparently consciously controlling his Metamorph talent had taken a lot more mental concentration than he’d realized and now multitasking seemed to be nearly ludicrously easy.

He opened his eyes to see Genesis gazing down at him with a soft smile on his lips, his Mako-infused eyes impossibly warm as he noticed Rufus’ gaze and reached out to ruffle the blond’s hair affectionately.  “No matter where the winds may blow/My friend, your desire/Is the bringer of life, the gift of the goddess.”  Genesis murmured affectionately as he guided Rufus to one of the kitchen chairs before bouncing off to go help Angeal with the dinner preparations- the dark-haired teen had greeted Teddy-Rufus, dammit- with a nod before going back to whatever he had been busy with.  Sephiroth and Vincent were both seated at the table- they had both been banned from being anyone near the food preparation area when Genesis and Angeal were in residence- and both men were looking at Rufus curiously.

Once he was settled Rufus leaned his chin on his upturned fist and grinned brightly.  “Yeah!  Veld told me!  Well, he didn’t mean to tell me, but the Turks were gossiping and had no idea I was there- I was playing hide-and-seek with Legend- and they were talking about how this guy from Weapon’s Development was getting moved because Scarlet-the-Secret-Honeybee was getting all sorts of mad about him catching all the holes in her department’s budget but she couldn’t just fire him because she didn’t have probable cause and he actually had caught a few people who were legitimately trying to sabotage Weapon’s Development’s projects so the Turks wouldn’t just make him disappear for her, so she suggested that he be promoted and the President approved it because he didn’t want to make waves.”

“Did you really just say all of that in one breath, imp?” Genesis’ voice was blatantly amused.

Rufus gave his Godfather his best sour expression before he ignored the comment- and the snickering- and continued to ramble.  “Anyways-“  Rufus shot his chortling Godfather’s back a pint-sized glare.  “-I guess he is going to be the new Director of SOLDIER.”

Genesis twirled around, waving the spatula that was in his hand at Rufus.  “SOLDIER doesn’t have a Director, imp.”  Genesis paused for a moment before adding.  “Well, we used to, but then Heidegger’s flunky got caught up in that scandal- something about embezzlement or misappropriation or something- and they shut down that entire branch.  Director, Coordinator- all of it.  We’ve been having to report to Heidegger or the General for months.”

“It would be nice, though.”  Angeal interjected calmly, never pausing in his chopping motions.  “Reporting in to Heidegger tests even my patience and General Branford is far too busy trying to do everything Heidegger doesn’t to really do his job as SOLDIER’s highest ranking officer.  There’s scuttlebutt about him wanting to retire soon, too.”

“Yeah, well, apparently the new SOLDIER Director will be more of a manager and coordinator- assigning missions, ensuring they have supplies, and all that- which should free up General Branford’s time to actually see to the SOLDIERs themselves.”  Rufus explained.  “At least according to the Turks.  Then one of them mentioned that the new Director was actually one of President Shinra’s illegitimate heirs and Veld confirmed it.”  Rufus flushed and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.  “That’s about the time I accidently fell out to the vent I was hiding in and I got caught.”

“Smooth, imp, smooth.”  Genesis teased Rufus gently.

Rufus stuck his tongue out at his Godfather.  “At any rate, my brother’s name is Lazard- I know his last name starts with a D, but it’s kind of long- and he’s like, fifteen.  He must be really smart to have moved up as fast as he has.”

“That is pretty impressive.”  Angeal commented appreciatively.  “Though we made SOLDIER at fourteen and fifteen, so it seems to be par for the course.”  Angeal shook his head sadly and turned to hand the chopped vegetables to Genesis, who was manning the stove.  “For all the technology we are blessed to have, our school system is pretty lacking, especially in children who come from the Slums or the really small towns.  We’re lucky that just about everyone can communicate, but the dialects are still pretty different sometimes.”

“I know it is not all that uncommon for full-fledged doctors to be barely into their twenties.”  Sephiroth added conversationally.  “I concur that it seems incredibly strange, given the amount of technology we possess, but I suppose that is why there is so much emphasis on education during the six months of Cadet Training and not during Basic Instruction, which is the first twelve weeks.”

“I think I remember hearing General Branford saying something about how they didn’t want to hamstring the Cadet potentials that were willing to work past their educational handicaps.  It’s why the second session of Cadet Training- if one fails their first SOLDIER Exam, but shows potential- that the Cadets aren’t required to sign for the full three years in the Infantry and are split between their Infantry duties and their Cadet Classes.  It gives them a fighting chance.”  Genesis replied thoughtfully, his brow furrowed in concentration as he set about putting the finished food into serving dishes.  “I guess it really hadn’t truly occurred to me that there are people who can’t read and write or do math proficiently.”

“It’s more common than you’d think.” Angeal said as he stacked the filled dishes on his arms with expert grace and quickly move them to the table.  “The Slums don’t even have an actual school system, and most of the smaller towns have schoolhouses that aren’t mandatory or don’t allow certain families to attend.  It’s quite colonial, really, when one stops to consider that Universities accept students as young as twelve without really batting an eye.”

“Even Above the Plate education is mostly done in private institutions or by private tutors.”  Vincent added.  “There are a few public schools, but they struggle and rely on charitable donations, while the students are looked down on by their peers for needing ‘assistance’.  Most never complete the curriculum and those that do usually end up Below the Plate or have to move away from Midgar due to educational prejudice.  Even the departments in Shinra tend to overlook publicly educated students or at least favor the ones who were educated privately.”

“Huh.”  Rufus said, scrunching up his nose as thoughts and plans whirled through his mind.  “That’s….something I want to change.”  He decided after a few moments of silence- save for the sounds of dinner being fully transferred to the table.  Rufus looked up at his Godfather with his bright-hued eyes blazing with determination. “Uncle Genesis, I want you to help me find a way to establish a school system for the Slums.  It’s not right!  Everyone should be taught how to read and write and do maths!  What options do they have otherwise?  Crime?  Working as thugs from some sort of low-level crime boss?  Being in the Infantry even if they hate fighting?  Working for whoever will hire them because that’s all the choice they have?!”  Rufus’ voice grew more disgusted the longer he spoke, by the end of his statement his hands were clenched into fists and his eyes fairly burned with anger at the perceived injustice.

“Atta boy, Rufus.”  Genesis said warmly, ruffling his Godson’s hair as he went to take a seat beside him.

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Aerith laughed brightly as she deftly wove between the flowers, her right hand clutching Felicia’s while her left held Shalua’s hand.  Shelke, Shalua’s little sister, was sitting near Veld- Felicia’s dad- and playing with the man’s personal PHS.

It’s fun, making new friends.  Aerith thought as Felicia accidentally tripped, causing them all to tumble gracelessly into the gently swaying flowers.  They quickly scurried to their knees before checking the flowers for damage, but the flowers seemed to nearly giggle at them before seeming to preen at all the attention the girls lavished onto them- Aerith in particular.  Aerith peeked up at her friends, but Shalua and Felicia were merely amused at the flower’s reactions to her attentions- in fact they began to tease her by naming the individual flowers and inventing creative backstories for them- and that knot that existed just under her diaphragm loosened just a bit more.

As a blended soul Aerith sometimes had to deal with unintended side-effects.  As time passed Aerith and Luna continued to meld together into just Aerith- much like how a cube of sugar with a protective coating slowly dissolves into a cup of water, eventually changing it from being a cup of water with a sugar cube inside it to a cup of sugar water.  However, as a former guest of Professor Hojo, Aerith herself had many social issues and insecurities, but when Luna’s social isolation and torment were added to that equation it made for a rather formidable complex when it came to interacting and befriending others around her physical body’s age. 

Having Harry and Neville- or Genesis and Angeal, as they were now known- nearby soothed some of those fears, but Aerith had been honestly surprised at how easily she had slipped into the role of friend with Felicia and Shalua.  It felt natural and easy to be around the two girls and they didn’t mind her moments of inattention when she got lost in listening to the whispers of the Planet.  The two slightly older girls- Felicia was about five years her elder, while Shalua was only about two years her senior- were both kind and smart.  Sometimes Aerith forgot that she had the knowledge of a twenty year old woman lurking in her memories and began to chatter about things that were too advanced for her physical age, but Shalua and Felicia would simply listen attentively and then ask questions so that they could understand instead of getting jealous or envious of Aerith’s apparent intellect.

It was….nice to have girl friends who weren’t intimidated by her brainpower or quirks.

Not that she loved Angeal or Genesis any less- and Sephiroth was far too much fun to mess with!- but it was new for her to have female friends who encouraged her wholeheartedly instead of being secretly envious.

“Gil for your thoughts?”  Felicia’s curious voice broke through Aerith’s musings and the green-eyed Cetra blushed once she realized that she had spaced out again.

“Sorry.”  Aerith chirped cheerfully, a small smile tugging at her lips as she deftly plucked a flower and handed it to Shalua.  “I was thinking how nice it is to have friends.”

“It is nice, isn’t it?”  Shalua asked thoughtfully as she twisted the stem of the flower and tucked it behind her ear, only for Felicia to giggle and reach over to fix it for her.

“Hmm, it is.”  Felicia hummed appreciatively as she sat back to admire her handiwork. 

Shalua grinned and suddenly thrust her hand into the space between them.  “Friends for life?”

Felicia’s hand quickly covered Shalua’s and Aerith’s was only a heartbeat behind, the three girls unaware of their rapt audience.  “Best friends for life.”  Felicia corrected with a laugh, a pleased flushed creeping up her cheeks.

“It’s a promise.”  Aerith agreed, her own flush spreading across her pale cheeks. 

“Don’t forget me!”  Shelke cried out suddenly, the small girl nearly tripping over her own two feet as she rushed over to collapse onto her sister, her bright eyes teary.

“Never, Shelke.”  Felicia told the girl warmly, ruffling her curls as Shalua settled her squirming little sister onto her lap, the two elder girls beginning to coo over the small girl as they tried to cheer the little girl up.

Aerith sat back and enjoyed the chatter of the others as the delighted whispers of the Planet thrummed through her mind.

Yes, having friends is nice.  She decided as she started selecting flowers to make Shelke a flower crown with.

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Genesis asked himself- for the nth time in the past twenty minutes- how, exactly, Teddy-Rufus had talked him into being a bloody courier.

Not that Genesis had anything against postal workers or those who delivered packages for a living- he was actually quite fond of them.  Especially when they brought him gifts from his adoring public.

However, the package-letter that Genesis had been sent to deliver to his new boss could possibly end very badly for Genesis should it be received…..badly.

Had he mentioned that it could potentially get him sent on a mission in the boonies with morons?

Forever.

“The Director will see you now, Lieutenant Colonel Rhapshodos.” 

“To become the dew that quenches the land/To spare the sands, the seas, the skies/I offer thee this silent sacrifice.”  Genesis muttered as a near-prayer as he straightened and walked forward towards his potential doom.

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Lazard Deusericus stared at the contents of the package that had been brought to him by Lt Col Rhapshodos with a mixture of loathing and longing.

Loathing because he had always hated his faithless father and everything that the man stood for.  The man was rich and powerful and yet so very, very cruel and narcissistic.

Midgar had been built over the top of eight smaller- poor and relatively backwater- towns that had existed in the beautiful Midga’anar Valley.  Those towns- or their leaders, anyways- had been sweet-talked into allowing the construction of the Plates with the honeyed promises of jobs, better living conditions, advanced medical facilities, cutting-edged technology, and generally getting a piece of the Midas-touched Shinra-sweet pie.

(They should have remembered that Midas had been a fool, turning even his own daughter to gold by the end.  A man surrounded by treasure yet destitute in all things that were truly valuable.)

It had taken a few years, but the people came to realize that it had all been empty words full of placebo promises.

The former towns became the Slums in less time than it took for the ink to dry on the business contracts.  The Slums received cheaply produced electricity for the price of the right to see the sky and in less than two years all of the beautiful flora and fauna that used to garnish and grace the Valley withered into dust under the eerie green glow of the Mako Reactors. 

Unable to truly hide the results of their so-called ‘perfectly clean, harmless’ energy source, the Slum streets were promptly auto-turfed.  Overlaid with cheap, synthetic materials that only highlighted the fact that paradise had been lost.  Before too long the veneer of fake cheapness over what once was truly beautiful wood, brick and stone was more demoralizing to the Slum denizens than the thick monstrosities that blocked out their previously taken-for-granted view the sky.

Lazard had always felt partially responsible for the crime, the filth, and the barbarity that had become wretched reality for those who called Below the Plate home, because it was his father who had done all of it.  Lazard hated the man as deeply as he craved approval from the man his mother had once loved.  However, Lazard had always been smart, and if his father didn’t care about the bastard son he let Under the Plate then Lazard would go Above the Plate and make the man pay attention to him.

(-and just maybe Lazard might find some way to fix the wrongs that his father had wrought to thousands of people who deserved a better life than Shinra had given them.  Maybe he could find a way to restore even a fraction of what the Valley had been like before Shinra had despoiled it.)

However, Lazard had never expected aid to come from the spoiled little daddy’s boy that was Rufus Shinra.

Yet, it was on the paper in front of him, written in flowing but childish handwriting.  A plan to revolutionize life Under the Plate and- if he was reading it correctly- eventually usurp the position of President and divide the company between the two brothers, making provisions for any others who had been left out in the cold if they could find them.  Rufus’ letter spoke of wanting to right wrongs and champion the people and it was all well and good and sort of unbelievable but-

“I’d like to get to know my brother.  I know you probably hate me because our shared father is a cruel, terrible human being who left you and your mother when he should have been a man and taken care of you.  I can empathize.  I know it’s not any consolation, but he’s not much of a father to me either.  But our family- the Shinra’s- were once great.  We were once champions of the people as well as keen businessmen and I want to return to that, even if it means splitting the company between us.

My life is in your hands, brother.  You could take this letter to our father and he could have me suffer an ‘accident’ and you go it alone.

Or you could come to the train station in Sector Five, Below the Plate tonight and come to meet me so we can discuss this face to face, as partners- as brothers.

It’s in your hands now, big brother.

Your little brother,

-Rufus”

-but Lazard had always wanted to meet his siblings, had always wanted a family in which to belong.  He had wanted to be looked up to and admired and needed, (because mother had never recovered from the way that man had left her all alone and his childhood had been far from happy or ideal), and, now, having a choice to either condemn his little brother or help him help those who had suffered under their so-called father’s tyranny…..

Well, Lazard had always been a dreamer.  He tapped the intercom that connected him to his secretary.

“Yes, Cynthia?  Could you please call Lt Col Rhapshodos and ask him or one of the others to swing by and pick me up for our business dinner this evening?  Yes.  Sorry to trouble you Cynthia but the venue cancelled on us and now we’ll have to wing it.  Uh-huh.  No, no it’s fine.  Hmmhmm.  Yes, that is acceptable.  Thank you, Cynthia.”

I really hope this isn’t a trap.  Lazard hoped fervently as he rolled up his sleeves and dove back into the arduous task of organizing the SOLDIER personnel files.

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