Disclaimer: I Don't Own Final Fantasy VII.

Thin rays of sunlight bounced through the glass windows, weaved their way through potted plant life, and reflected off of the huge bulk of the Buster Sword. Gillian regarded the huge blade with a nostalgic expression, before her features turned into a self loathing sneer.

It had been called Project G.

G. Gillian. Once upon a time, she had been a scientist. A doctor who had nothing but the lab coat on her back and her drive. That insatiable, unquenchable thirst for knowledge that surrounded her like a fog. It had blinded her from the price she paid to the ShinRa Electric Power Company, in search of science.

At least she hadn't been alone.

When she had been a low level grunt in the ShinRa science program, studying mako formations and materia composition, she had considered herself an ordinary human. It had never been a job exactly, more like an obsession, but, it hadn't changed her in any way.

And then she had met Hollander.

From that ridiculous shirt to the mad scientist hair, she hadn't been impressed in the man, star player of the R&D branch or no. He, however, had been completely impressed with her. It had been her that discovered that harvesting mako while it was in a state of flux produced more energy, and that prolonged use of materia resulted in concentrated mako poisoning.

When he offered her the job, it had seemed as though a ray of divine light had broken through the many ceilings of the ShinRa building. Personal assistant and medical consultant to Hollander. Right hand of one of the scientific leaders of her time.

It was everything she wished for and more.

But, as she learned through many years of mistakes, no wish came without payment.

For the first couple of years, things went smoothly. They worked on mako harvesting, it's effects on the body (an early precursor to the SOLDIER program), and it's natural implications. They exhausted the rest of the departments interest in the substance and ploughed on, undeterred. Everyone else mocked their theories, their work.

All but one.

Professor Hojo, a man of extremely questionable sanity. He alone, accepted and thought their theories through. Hollander and Hojo were not social people. If it weren't for Gillian (who wasn't much better), Hollander wouldn't leave the lab. However, the two professors held each other in an odd contemptuous/friendly rivalry that seemed to be the equivalent of friendship, to the outside observer.

But that couldn't, and didn't last.

The great schism of the ShinRa Research and Development Bureau. With the untimely death of Professor Gast, every scientist worth his salt was vying for the position of head of the branch. Hojo and Hollander were no exceptions. Their odd rivalry increased million fold as the competition risked their reputations and their pride. The other scientists backed off when faced with the sheer ferocity of the two MVPs.

And Gillian was caught in the middle.

Old man ShinRa was no fool. He knew that, if they were in competition with each other, Hojo and Hollander would bring in greater results. The incentive of certain...hidden projects would act as a piece of meat between the two wolves. But, the competition became much more than between Hojo and Hollander. The remaining scientists split apart and formed under either camp's banner, creating a rift that split apart the bureau and, more importantly, cost insane amounts of profits.

To resolve this, the JENOVA project was added to the pot. Hollander and Hojo were both given JENOVA samples to work with, as well as equal copies of research left by Gast. They were told that whoever created a method of invoking enhancements that Gast had spoken of in his reports, would be given the title of head of the branch.

And so Project G (though it had yet to be named that) and Project S, two twins born of diabolical greed and sheer madness, were brought in to the world.

Gillian had been the one to discover that the mutagenic properties of the supposed "ancient" cells decreased when they were passed through generations. The positive traits remained, while the negative ones lessened in time, as if the cells discovered that that particular claw or wing was not necessary to the lab rat at the time. With careful eugenic weeding and genetic planning, only the positive aspects would remain.

She had rushed into the lab, hair a mess and lab coat looking like she had slept in it (which she had...) Hollander had looked as if she had just tap danced her way into the containment area, but, when he looked at her notes and results, a look dawned on him as her theory took root.

It wasn't as efficient as they would have liked. The minimum period of breeding was about three generations. However, with each day, the project grew more and more advanced. Eventually, Hollander discovered that eugenics weren't necessary, simple genetic mapping on a fetal infant could reduce the mutations to controllable levels.

It was all moving faster than a runaway freight train. Project G had pulled ahead by immeasurable standards. They received more funding, more influence and more power than Hojo's team.

The first few test subjects (Gillian shuddered to think of how she had called those innocent women and children test subjects) had proven unsuccessful. The mothers had died in labour, the infants were stillborn.

But they moved on.

Gillian worked tirelessly to try to find the error in the theory. The mothers acceptation rates had been good enough. The infants had been extremely adaptive to the JENOVA cells. Where had they gone wrong?

And then she spotted it. The fly in the ointment, the stuck gear. The only possible explanation, from Gillian's standpoint, was time. The mothers had been recently injected with JENOVA cells, they had no long term adaptation to the alien organism.

From what they could gather from their research (and that which they had managed to steal from Hojo), JENOVA, even in it's separated state, was sentient. The cells didn't bombard the body they were implanted into, they persuaded their way in, over long amounts of time. Almost like a Turk. Gillian snorted at the irony.

The cells mimicked the behaviours of the other cells in the body. If they were skin cells, they matched their melanin levels to that of their counterparts. If they were lung cells, they turned into fully functional lung tissue. The cells continued in this fashion, hiding from the white blood cells of the body, avoiding rejection. Then, they slowly converted the genetic code, nothing else, in their nearby cells, which in turn, infected other cells.

The result was an otherwise ordinary subject with enhanced genetic capabilities. Or so they thought.

Upon their testing of this theory, they were proved wrong.

Everyone in the Hollander camp underestimated the ferocity of the JENOVA cells. Once there was more alien matter infesting the body than the original tissue, the cells turned the tables on their previous hunters. They attacked the remaining human tissue, converting it completely to JENOVA type cells. Mutations were common, and the shape of each mutant was different in some way. Because the amount needed to be passed on genetically had to be high, the chance of mutation was around 90%.

It was a, almost complete failure.

Hollander was furious. He hollered and yelled, blaming Gillian for the project's failure. The woman was defiant, retorting that her theory involved careful integration over generations. She blamed Hollander's desire for a quick fix to the time issue to be the source of the mutations.

And so another schism occurred.

Project G split down the middle. People crowded behind Gillian and people gathered behind Hollander. The two spent two weeks fighting fiercely. Progress grinded to a halt, and it did not escape Hojo's notice. He spent those two weeks in an effort to get ahead. His attempts included bribery, blackmail and the like. He fired all of the scientists that were not necessary to his project and worked the remaining ones into the ground. For all of this, he received a private lab in close proximity and access to the actual JENOVA specimen.

And so Project G fell further behind.

One night, Gillian had been the last one in the lab, surrounded by beakers and test tubes. The door opened, light spilling into the dark room and Hollander walked in. Gillian curled her lip, ready to spit, but, her lips were covered by something moist and warm.

Hollander pushed her against the desk, nimble hands caressing her face. She hesitated, and then responded in full force.

Looking back, Gillian couldn't stand to think of Hollander in that sense. The sweaty feeling of his hands, the greasy hair...She shuddered at the memory that had seemed so intoxicating when she wore the rose coloured glasses of love.

The schism was healed. Project G returned with greater force than ever before. The two lovebirds led their administration with a frenzy, exploring all possible explanations and solutions to the kinks in their ideas. While Hojo was off at an undisclosed location, the two worked from Midgar.

Gillian herself became a test subject. Different strands of DNA reacted differently to JENOVA. Gillian's genome was best suited for the role of "mother", the role of the stepping stone between JENOVA and the child. The bucket between the well and the home. Hollander almost forbade it, but, her evidence was too much to deny.

Blinded by her own arrogance, Gillian injected herself with JENOVA cells.

And thus, from a time of passion and wildfire, Genesis was conceived.

Well, the idea of Genesis was conceived. The imprinting of a genetic code onto a fetus in it's early stages of development. More specifically, a code that bore a balance of JENOVA and human cells. A balance that had only been achieved in one subject.

Gillian Hewley.

And so, one of the two JENOVA projects was given a moniker. If Hollander was the father of the project, then Gillian was inarguably the mother.* And so, the project was named after her mother.

Project G. Project Gillian.

And soon it bore a child. Two, actually.

From that first (even then) melodious cry, Genesis had been checked over and tested. A subject from birth, the boy had been plucked from his uncaring mother and put in a sterile chamber. The scientists walked around him and ignored his cries. He was fed by an uncaring nursemaid, and was poked and prodded by countless needles.

Angeal, was still safe in Gillian's womb. Both were subject to experiments, but, Angeal was yet to be born. Gillian clutched her lab coat in a silent fretting fit. Hollander did not dote on her, and she did not want to him to. She made it through her pregnancy on her own, independent as always. Genesis was born, but, had no one to hold him, no one to love him.

Ignored by all but one.

Gillian had replaced the boy's genetic code with her own. He was, in more than one way, her own child. She cared for him in the late night, long after everyone else had left. She kissed his scars and played with him in the darkness of his room, cold metal warmed by the love that surrounded the two. Both of them victims, one of them the reason for their suffering. Gillian wept, begged forgiveness, and held her poor, abused babe to her breast.

Genesis cooed up at her and laughed, the bubbly sound warming her soul and clearing away the corruption that surrounded her heart. She sung him lullabies from her home and told him stories of his baby brother. Even then, Genesis perked up at the mention of Angeal. The two were not related by blood, not really, but, were brothers in soul. She hated to act cold and unemotional, even as he screamed and reached for her when he was stuck with syringes.

But, even with the act she portrayed, even with the love she showered on him, Genesis was taken away from her.

He was declared a failure.

Gillian wept the night before he was to be shipped away to Banora, to rich, uncaring parents that would treat him as an imposition. She sung to him and held him close, listening sadly to his sleepy mumbles and baby talk. She loved Genesis more than his own mother did. When she reunited with him, years later, she could have sworn there was a flicker of recognition in his eyes. Her own brimmed with unabashed happiness and she hid her tears from her boys as they played together in her little house. She reached out towards the little, eight year old child and grasped his shoulders. He looked up at her innocently and curiously, as she hugged him close. Angeal said nothing, just adding himself to the embrace and closing his eyes. Genesis said nothing, some instinct told him that he was safe in Gillian's arms. It was a feeling that he had never experienced before.

As she watched the helicopter take off, carrying her baby further and further away from her, she allowed a small tear to fall. Her head filled with "if only" and "what ifs". She made a promise then. She promised herself that, when her own child was born, she would take him away from ShinRa. Away to Banora, where, she hoped, she would be reunited with her Genesis, and her boys would play together, just like she promised.

When Angeal was born, Hollander tested him for everything that could possibly go wrong. His cells were perfectly balanced. His genetics were perfect. Angeal represented perfection. The second (and last) result of Project G.

The great war of the science department (or what was left of it) was over. Hojo had lost to Hollander. Sephiroth to Angeal and Genesis. Lucrecia to Gillian.

Of course, the conceiving of the Silver General and the corresponding tragedy of Vincent Valentine had yet to occur.

Angeal was a quiet baby. He almost never cried, if it wasn't completely necessary. Gillian, however, did her fair share of crying. She cried when Angeal looked up at her with those incredibly soulful eyes and grasped her little finger in those chubby hands.

He was beautiful.

Gillian was reminded of her promise. As soon as she could walk, she cornered Hollander in the lab and pressured him to let Angeal develop in a natural setting. She offered any amount of samples of her genetic material, anything to escape. Hollander did not accept the deal.

Until news of Hojo's accomplishments reached him.

He flew into a horrid rage. He seethed and swept vials off of tables. When he began to hurt himself, Gillian tried to stop him.

He whirled around and pointed a scalpel at her throat. When she stared back at him defiantly, he pointed it towards the bundle in the far corner of the lab. He laughed at her when she recoiled in horror, ridiculing her for thinking he would kill his only successful product.

Hojo had created a better way of creating an enhanced human. While their method seemed to create a better warrior, Hojo's was faster and more marketable. Injections of JENOVA cells, directly into the bloodstream, coupled with pure mako. Hojo had won. The SOLDIER program would be based off of his design. Project G faded into the background, a name on folders and files.

And, Hollander agreed to let Gillian raise Angeal, far away from Midgar. This was a desperate, last minute attempt to prove that his theory was greater than Hojo's. Angeal and Genesis would develop in a natural setting. Far away from sterile labs and constant monitoring that would one day erase humanity from Sephiroth.

Gillian gazed up to the heavens as she boarded the boat that led to the Banoran Islands. She gazed out across the sea and whispered to Genesis, while running a hand through baby Angeal's hair.

"I'll be there soon. I'll keep my promise."

Gillian let a few tears escape her eyes and hit her wrinkled cheeks, years later. Genesis had visited her. She had told him everything. He hadn't been angry. He merely kissed her forehead and walked out, without another word.

The screams that reached her window made her break down. Guilt made her lose her footing and tumble to the floor.

When she came to, she was sitting in her usual chair. Angeal was leaning against the wall, huge sword propped up against his back.

He only asked one question.

"Is it true?"

Gillian looked at her baby. Now a man, a strong, powerful man that bore the weight of her sins.

She was afraid that it would crush him.

She nodded, and offered no excuses. Angeal closed his eyes in shock, and shrugged off the sword. It hit the ground with a clang, and Angeal walked out without another word.

Gillian bent and propped the sword up against the wall. She walked over to a chest that sat on a tall bookshelf. She opened it and pulled the syringe from the box.

Poison pushed its way into her ancient blood and she leaned back. The door opened, and Zack the Puppy introduced himself.

After he left, Angeal returned. She got up, embraced him, and struggled to kiss his forehead.

"Mother...?" Angeal asked, concern flashing through his eyes as she stumbled.

Gillian smiled weakly hugged her baby. Genesis was not there, but, Angeal would tell him of Gillian Hewley's final moments.

"I'm so sorry Angeal. Please, I ask you...and Genesis to...to forgive me." She felt her body giving out underneath her, but, her child caught her, gentle and scared like a young boy.

"Of course Mother. I never blamed you. Neither did Genesis..." Angeal reassured her, holding her at arms length to look her in the eye.

She sang softly, a lullaby that Angeal was sure he had heard before. Genesis listened from his position outside the house.

As the last verse wove its way into the air, Gillian collapsed into Angeal's embrace.

And so, Gillian Hewley, woman, scientist, and above all, mother died.

And she was forgiven.

I hope you all enjoyed.

*I totally stole this line from the Matrix XD.

I was tired at the ending, so, sorry if it went downhill.

Thanks again!

-Twilight Symphony