Written for lunardragonfly on tumblr for Secret Santa who asked for: cute snapshots into the daily lives of AGSZC from each of their POV
I think I missed the mark a bit - this first section is a hasty plot section put in place prior to the POVs since this was set post Dirge of Cerberus.
Even now, in the aftermath and the peace, the sky remained something of a threat. There was an enemy out there beyond the sky, one they had little knowledge of - hardly anything at all past theory and conjecture. As non-threatening as the afternoon sky appeared, it was impossible for it to not now induce a shiver down Aerith's back. So different to her old fears of the sky; where once she feared falling into the endless blue, now she feared what might fall out of it - a situation not as remote at she might like. The night sky was little better. Cid still maintained space exploration should continue to allow them to push out from the borders of their world. She remained wary of what he might find if he tried.
Maybe she should relax and not view space as a little more than a threat. Even at the worst odds the chances of yet another creature... Aerith sighed. Maybe it would have better to never know of Lem's theory. Certainly she could have lived the rest of her second life without hearing another word from anyone capable of working alongside Hojo - no matter how unconcerned Reeve was about that little aspect of his past. That the man held any position within the WRO at all... Frustrating too that their enemy likely bore them no amenity or malice; it simply strove to survive as best it could - and the destruction of Gaia was incidental to that goal.
Aerith had never met Lem in person - a minor point for which she was oddly grateful. She had read his report, extrapolated from notes and theories stretching back more than thirty years. Right from the very first days of the Jenova project. Lem had saved a good proportion of the old files and research notes days before a second and more aggressive fire wiped out Nibelheim for good. The arsonist was not hard to figure out - right now he lay in the nearby field with his four companions. He had his reasons for attempting to once again succeed where he had failed and no one seemed inclined to blame his efforts. No one had died in the second fire at least.
Lem's report concerned a theoretical planet somewhere out in the vastness of space. Fantasy and science-fiction writers had touched on aspects of the world Lem described; typically they were more optimistic than Lem's dark fantasy. No. No, it felt far too plausible to be a fantasy. As much as they might never know the truth - might never want to know the truth. There were no sentient beings upon the world - a place Lem code-named J for brevity - or at least nothing that would be comfortingly familiar.
The sole inhabitant, the entire surface of J, was a nightmarish mass of writhing flesh and sinew, or muscle and membrance. A gaseous atmosphere might cloak the world, though it barely qualified as atmosphere, formed entirely of the mass's exhalations. A bleak depiction of alien life. The world orbited no sun or any other form of warmth or light. J hung in the deepest darkness - but in a perverted similarity to their own world, J was sentient. Not an amalgam of every creature who walked or crawled upon the surface as with Gaia; this was a massive creature almost beyond their understanding.
Rebuttals from others in the WRO were quick to come. As attractive as the theory was to explain the two known invaders from space, J could not have lasted long enough to cause harm. It might not even still live for all they knew. Lem's second report detailed all the unknowns and likely impossibles within his theory. He agreed the world could not have always been in the state of his conjecture - but it's past did not seem to matter beside the threat of it's present. Perhaps the singular inhabitant, the monstrous central form knew from where it had arisen. Maybe it had always been and would always be until all other life in the universe was gone. Only then would the fate of J be certain.
Lem wrote of growing masses on the surface of J, accumulations of hideous flesh and a variant of the J host body consciousness contained within. These buds as he referred to them would detach and blast out into space at regular intervals. Out in the void between worlds, the buds sought desperately to return and rejoin the collective body on J. Slowly, but surely all the disparate sections would meet again, drawn inexorably together.
Some of the buds fell onto rocky, barren worlds, planetoids, asteroids, comets. These buds would seize the solid matter and propagate to coat the rock in effect becoming miniature versions of J itself. Some buds might yet still be adrift in space, endlessly floating. In any case the buds would continue to drift until eventually they found inhabited worlds. When that occurred the the bud's planet-fall typically heralded the planet's destruction. The impact was often enough, especially if the bud had captured another rocky celestial body. The resulting impact damage in either scenario would draw the Lifestream of the ill-fated world towards the impact site to heal the injury - but instead of healing the wound, the bud would lie in wait to absorb the energy as it amassed, drawing more and more into itself. As the planet weakened, the bud grew stronger the process quickly irreversible.
Thus relieved of it's life-giving energy, the planet would die, the crust crumbling and shattering apart. The bud would remain with the corpse of its victim, floating in amongst the mass of debris, absorbing rock to help wound the next world that much more viciously. The next step was chance for the most part; some buds had to somehow return to J to re-fuse into the mass and thus transfer the absorbed energy back to the whole. Others would continue to drift until they found another planet and the cycle would repeat. Another planet-fall and another swift eradication of the world. Simple, effective, lethal.
A familiar enough story; her mother's words told of something similar based on the events of two thousand years previous. The calamity from the skies. Lem's theory matched what they knew of the coming of Jenova and made sense of her apparent successor. But their world had persisted and still lived, helped by the actions of the Cetra. How to explain this? Another of Lem's theories. The Cetra forced Jenova - the bud that found their world - to change its behaviour. The offspring of J had other vectors to accomplish its ends. More subtle approaches though rarely used for these purposes. A disease spread to eliminate the sentience that resisted it as Jenova assumed new forms to evade capture and defeat.
The events of Jenova's initial defeat and her subsequent sealing within the mountain eventually designated Mount Nibel seemed somewhat at odds with Lem's theory. It shouldn't bother her so much given so much remained unsubstantiated and they had a mere two examples of the entity to base their knowledge on. Nevertheless, the theory was not something she felt able to dismiss easily without further thought. Could Jenova - could any of the buds from J really die? As much as the rain had dissolved what remained of the Jenova cells during the Geostigma outbreak, it was impossible to overlook Jenova's survival within Mount Nibel - not living and yet not quite dead. Could she be certain that Jenova was not somehow merged into the Lifestream and growing ever stronger? Aerith shook her head.
There was solace to be had with her friends. Twice now Jenova had suffered defeat at the hands of humans who managed to surpass the Cetra. Losing the ability to hear Gaia did not impede their ability to fight Jenova - nor her sister. And on both occasions, Cloud Strife had proven vital in their eventual victory. Currently his lover with the black, spiky hair was tousling his blonde spikes. Cloud himself was more concerned with running his fingers through the silver strands of the arsonist's hair. The one Jenova used for her guise and her puppet on their world. Jenova's story seemed to have ended with the eradication of Geostigma. J - as unknowingly as it seemed to act - had not been done with them yet.
A new star in the heavens some months previously was of major concern to the inhabitants of Gaia. As it grew larger it provoked fresh fears born out of recent memory. Avalanche reunited even as observations confirmed the object was far smaller than feared; this would not be another meteor-fall. But even as the humans relaxed, Gaia grew increasingly troubled. It could sense what was approaching and what the nature of that star was.
Once Gaia might have awoken the WEAPONS to destroy the object on arrival. But the WEAPONs were no more; shattered to pieces by Avalanche as they tried to keep their species alive. New versions could be grown, but the process was not quick; years was the fastest gestation period for the smallest instance. No Cetra remained. Well. Almost. People who asked Aerith of her resurrection were often disappointed at what she could articulate of the experience. The border between life and death was narrow and she passed through it almost without ceremony. The world had shifted in a moment and the next thing Aerith knew was that she was floundering in the lake at the City of the Ancients with a singular directive impressed upon her; find defenders. Avalanche were her first choices, but Gaia was not satisfied. Of course not; it did not need to bring her back if they were all that was sufficient.
But Gaia was weaker now after interventions and the elimination of Geostigma. No longer could Aerith summon Holy; her role in all of this seemed confusing. Gaia's panic transmitted to her unbidden; soon it was clear the only thing truly capable of fighting back against a J-bud was the taint of Jenova herself. Not many like that left outside of Cloud. Aside from a few rumours of course. To her continued annoyance, Genesis took weeks to track down. Scattered sightings after the Deepground incident lead her to believe at least one of the subjects of the Jenova project still lived. Aerith tracked him at last to a hiding spot deep in the mountains near Midgar. His grudging recruitment was not enough - but he and Cloud remained the only two living beings with Jenova cells. Both she and Kadaj had ensured no other samples remained. Short of any other idea, Aerith turned to the Lifestream for other assistance.
Two men reassembled from their constituent memories within the churning, swirling mass of Gaia. Zack Fair was well known, well liked by practically everyone. Angeal Hewley was by reputation the most honourable of the former SOLDIERs. Key to getting Genesis focussed on fighting alongside them. Still; not enough. There was one more she could draw on and her reticence to make use of him was only losing them time. Sephiroth returned once again.
Predictably his return was not entirely welcomed by her friends. As much as Genesis and Angeal seemed eager to see him again, his past actions left deep wounds and scars on so many of the others. There had been almost no time for debate though. No time for apology or understanding; that came much later. The bud had arrived all too soon and smashed into the plains near Rocket Town. The resurrected First Class SOLDIERs joined Avalanche, the Turks, the WRO and Aerith in their bid to defy J. That she was here to be wary of the sky was evidence enough of their victory, but what now in the aftermath? How long until the next attack? The months that passed still seemed too short to relax. How long could they continue to resist the threats from space? Would this be their lives for ever more? Resurrected just to fight and guard the Planet from enemies beyond? Perhaps a question best left for the future.
Aerith left the quintet to their privacy as she sought out Tifa. The SOLDIERs had earned time off to enjoy each other's company. A surprising twist in the aftermath of the battle; long hidden feelings loosed by death and rebirth. Cloud's former crush on Sephiroth was no secret - or at least made some sense from past conversations. That Zack experienced something similar was very much a surprise; though again made sense in retrospect given his adoration of the man. Angeal and Genesis were perhaps the least surprising. Zack mentioned something of a persistent rumour about the duo - though the mention of the pair once sharing a bed with Sephiroth surprised even him.
In the end the five of them had much in common and so much love for each other. And at least they were all happy now.