Author note: I'm going to be doing something a little different. This here is a time skip chapter, and I'm giving Sophie a break. For today's rare selection we're going to get a peek at some other characters and their inner brain.

Also, listen Hogwarts Legacy is so addictive. I can't help myself from exploring every inch while I wait for the next FF7 game to drop.

Chapter start

(Sephiroth point of view)

No one had ever said that the wilderness would be easy. Especially when one was engaged in a war. Staying clean had taken on a relative stance. A tragedy, since he and the other SOLDIERS were extremely sensitive in all senses, including smell. Viscera from the monsters or enemy troops mattered not. It all stuck and stunk up each and every one of them.

It had the unfortunate bonus of attracting the insect life that populated the area as well. Turning the "grown men" into whining fools. They were hot, they were tired. They were dirty. They wanted better rations, rather than the prepared MRE the canteen served. Occasionally if they were lucky they'd bag a few monsters that had edible flesh. When given a choice between mush or tough flesh, the men seemed split on what was preferable.

To Sephiroth it sounded the least thing to be concerned with. Meal time was for simply refueling when required so they weren't distracted by hunger. The insects were nothing more that an obnoxious thing to be swatted at or ignored. And the blood that decorated his clothing was dealt with in as timely a manner as he could afford. Whining would expend energy on things that could not be changed.

He sighed quietly from where he knelt beside a river, his fingers making concentrated swipes go remove the guts from his now favorite black coat. Masamune remained at his side in the event of a monster being dense enough to ignore the predatory energy around him.

He had started this war when he was twelve. Now at seventeen, he'd Risen fairly quickly in the ranks. Earned the title of General, and the highly coveted first class identification. All it meant to him was more responsibility.

He realized what Sophie meant, slightly now. The guts he was washing off had belonged to a girl younger than Sophie. She would be preparing for her fourteenth year on Gaia.

Wutai was becoming desperate, sending in their children that hadn't been trained. This would be assassin, no more than eleven, had been clumsy with her blade, trembling in her arm, eyes glassy with tears. She hadn't wanted to be there. Regardless, Sephiroth had completed his task. Masamune had sliced through bone and tendons as though through butter, neatly splitting the now corpse in two. He hadn't tried to dodge the spray of her blood, a bit discomfited.

He'd noted all this about the girl in the millisecond it had taken to end her life. Years at this had trained him in a way Hojo's pathetic simulations could never do. He'd sensed the attack and reacted. Would he have spared her had he taken an additional second to let his assessments filter?

He truly wished he could say yes. A part of him wanted to be able to tell Sophie he'd spared even one life. He knew better. There was no place for sentiment on the battlefield. An enemy not slain could return again.

There was some good to being in Wutai. He'd become acquainted with two other SOLDIERS, ones who had risen just slightly behind his own trail. Genesis, a red headed spit fire who constantly needled and challenged him, sounding mocking even as he sought Sephiroth out for simple things such as meals together. The flair for the dramatic was similar to how Sophie could occasionally be, only amped up.

And then there was the more quiet Angeal. Perhaps too kind for a war such as this where he was an aggressor rather than a defender. Where Sephiroth could send Genesis and his troops to tear into enemy lines with efficient brutality, he usually applied Angeal and his unit to guarding medical or an important location. If needed he could call upon Angeal to break Genesis from uncertain terrain. It was good, having them as generals, and for companionship.

Sophie had done as promised, bombarding him with letters often. About the oddest of things sometimes. Random things, like she'd managed to dress Dark Star in a pink Tutu before Rufus noticed, causing him to summon his hound to do battle in am embarrassing scene. Or the fact she'd begun learning how to wield dual pistols, much to her Father's indifference and her brothers poorly weakening nerves. He always had been far more proactive in keeping Sophie safe. Sephiroth imagined the future president was distressed to see her growing up.

Although, it could be argued her outer appearance was merely adapting to match her inner personality.

She soon began sending two letters at a time, and he'd been startled to read the name of Aerith. The Ancient was more teasing than Sophie, telling him not to let Sophie bully him. That she missed him. Telling him about a beautiful church she had found near her new home, and the flowers she'd gotten to grow there. It soothed him, their letters, and helped him grip sanity amidst the carnage.

He hadn't seen her face to face in more than brief instances for years, the last being when Rufus had pulled strings to have them meet at Junon harbor as a requested present. Pulling the strongest asset from the field had been deemed unwise, no matter how Sophie protested. Still, now he was the general, along with apparently becoming some form of poster boy, ensuring hundreds to enlist to fight this cause. Along with Genesis and Angeal, they were being pulled back to headquarters.

It suited he and Angeal fine. Angeal was wary of the constant killing, realizing more and more the war was terrible. Sephiroth had been a monster when he first arrived, having to mentally grip what Sophie had said. Killing was too easy, and for the longest time it didn't effect him. He'd been raised to be the ultimate killing machine, a weapon of destructive force wielded at the enemies of Shinra. Only Sophie had continued chiding him, until finally he realized he was human as well. He was more than just a machine.

Blood didn't phase him in the least. Viscera and bodies entrails, the warmth of it, and horrid food didn't make him blink. Yet the idea of disappointing his first friend made him pause.

Genesis was the one put out from being "taken to pasture," as he called it. Although even he admitted it would be nice to have a proper cleaning regiment again.

He flicked as much water from his leather jacket as he could before returning to the camp. As the general his tent was placed strategically in the middle, slightly bigger than the others. Wasted on him. He didn't blink when he saw Genesis and Angeal inside already.

Angeal was settled in what could only be called an uncomfortable chair, polishing his beloved buster blade that he rarely used. Genesis was, of course for the peacock, reclining on his bed, messing the sheets up as he wriggled. He held his beat up copy of Loveless clutched to him, humming as he read it.

It had to have been memorized, word for word and page for page.

"About time you arrived." Genesis sent him his usual smirk, his book closing with a snap. "Darling, you kept us waiting."

Sephiroth busied himself with settling Masamune against a tent wall within easy reach. "My apologies. Perhaps next time, you'll be kind enough to warn me of your coming presence."

"Where would the fun in that be, I wonder?" Genesis mused, rising up to a sitting position.

"Common courtesy precedes your version of 'fun' Genesis," Sephiroth intoned as he settled into his own seat.

Angeal cleared his throat. "We brought you some dinner. My unit and I were able to raid a nearby supply line and got some steaks. Of course, not enough to be a full helping for everyone, but…"

"This is fine," Sephiroth interrupted. The bit of steak set to the side of the usual mush meant to be vegetables smelled much better than the usual fare presented.

He forked some into his mouth and chewed methodically. Whist he did that, he began to idly read through reports, until Genesis scoffed and snatched it from his hand.

He ignored the dead look Sephiroth was giving him. "No burying yourself in paperwork until you've eaten properly. I swear, not everything needs to be multi tasked."

Angeal was smiling indulgently. "Perhaps if you managed your own paperwork others could stop multi tasking."

Genesis scoffed but eyed the Silver General to ensure he kept eating. "My paperwork has nothing to with either of yours."

"Until it cannot be ignored any longer so Sephiroth and I do part of your share along with our own."

The steak had been cooked to absolute perfection. This was the work of Angeal. A small burst rose in his chest when he realized the man had taken the time to cook for him, similar to the feeling he got when Sophie had used to make him tea. He cherished it, so different from the usual indifference he felt.

"Thank you," he told the man. Angeal smiled with all the warmth in the world.

Genesis was busy tearing open a letter now. "Pity you haven't yet tasted the heights Geal can go to. Once we're in Midgar, you'll gain weight from overindulgence."

"I look forward to it." Sephiroth however highly doubted food being so delicious he'd become a glutton.

"Yes, as I'll look forward to finally meeting this Princess of yours. She certainly sends you plenty of letters."

"Genesis, you shouldn't read other people mail!"

Sephiroth halted his chewing for a moment before he resumed. Sophie never placed anything dangerous in her letters.

"If he minded, we both know I'd have never been able to touch the letter. Hers are the only ones that come in this soft pink envelope."

"Regardless!"

"It is fine." Sephiroth took a sip of his water. He somewhat missed the dry bitterness of the wines they'd found over the years, but those beverages were to be highly rationed.

"You let him get away with too much," Angeal said.

"And you are one to talk."

"He has you there, Geal."

(Rufus point of view)

Rufus Shinra was a man of many hates. He hated his Father. To a degree he hated the company his Father ran. He hated the executives, except for Reeve, although he thought the man a coward for quietly sitting at his masters heel. To a degree he hated his own blood, blood that tied him to the sack he called father.

The man was growing older, and Rufus found himself waiting for the day he left their lives for good, with growing impatience. The only part of the company he could say he did not mind, was his dear sister and the Turks who were loyal to him over his father.

The final straw came when they'd been summoned to meet the new SOLDIER director Lazard. The man was obviously related to the scum. If Sophie realized it, she didn't let on. Rufus had done his utmost to shield her from how disgusting their father was, but he knew she was beyond the age he could direct her attention elsewhere.

He planned to move his Turks soon. Tseng, Reno, Rude, and Vergil, the four loyalists who would bleed for him without being asked or required. They were close to friends at this point, Reno especially showing an appalling lack of respect for his title. The seventeen-year-old was capable of either raising his blood pressure, or making Rufus relax at any given moment.

He knew Sophie had an inkling of something happening. She had become increasingly insistent to him that the Cetra were to be believed, that they were killing the planet. Her idea of just what the Promised Land really was seemed to make sense, in a useless way.

"And what would you have me do? Halt the reactors?" He leaned his cheek against his hand, Reno lounging behind him.

Sophie had grown well. The maturity she'd shown as a child wasn't as off putting now she was a teenager herself. Her hair was a few shades paler than his, and she had a tendency to curl the ends to "give it bounce", before tossing it half up. She seemed to dislike the straight way it fell without interference, and had commented once she wanted to dye it black.

She'd discarded the notion, once she realized she couldn't tan. Pale skin like hers wouldn't look okay with dark hair, she stated sadly. Rufus had merely patted her head, and had Reno dispose of the high quality hair dye he'd purchased.

"You know the reactors are bad," she said after swallowing her food.

"Regardless of my opinion, that decision lasts with our Father."

"He won't be around forever." Her tone was neutral as she cut into her fish.

He felt Reno tense. "That's macabre, yo. Shouldn't ya not be waiting for the old man's death?"

She glanced up with a half smile. "Of course, I don't want him to die. But he's getting old. Nobody lives forever."

"Even then, we're a power company. Mako is the easiest card to play. What else could we use? The people are aware of what mako is, Sophie. They won't thank us for ruining the ease Father has given them." Planet be damned.

"Surely there are other ways to generate electricity. Solar or wind maybe." She took a sip from her tea. "Even if you shut them all down in waves, starting with the ones further out, like say… Nibelheim… or perhaps run a test out in Corel, since their reactor broke down."

"Corel would hardly want our interference," he said calmly. Corel had been avoidable. Blaming an entire group of people for a reactor malfunction and destroying them had been an extreme overreaction.

"And once you're in charge, you can make peace from the wrongs our father and the company did in his name."

… A tragedy they hadn't thought Sophie knew about. She wasn't privy to the darker underbelly of Shinra, she shouldn't have had any knowledge of the things Shinra had done dirty.

"And who told you we were in the wrong with that?" He asked it carefully, before taking a bite from his luncheon. This was one thing he always ensured, at least twice a week, they would dine together. He didn't want Sophie to ever know that lack of familial bond that he'd felt before her arrival.

She shrugged, tossing a pea to Boulder, who chomped it noisily. Age had ruined that hound. Though not as bulky as the ones who weren't lucky enough to be rescued by someone, he was still noticeably too thick in the torso and his fangs were fearsome in the too large head. A face only a mother could love, with short grey hair all over. But love him Sophie did, over feeding and spoiling him rotten. He might not have looked so odd if Sophie didn't insist on dressing the hound in an odd combination of ribbons, bows, and a leather jacket. She'd even commissioned a fur lined coat for the hound, a copy to one she had so they could match.

"Well let's see. I know a lot of things. I'm very cute, and little you know, so I hear things. A lot of people drop their guard with a flirty airhead."

"Sophie," he sighed.

She smiled, done with teasing him for now. "And you also gave me a keycard to your office."

"So you've been sniffing around."

"I wouldn't say that. I just wanted to help my big brother, is all. You're always so tense." She seemed to debate something, before she sighed. "Avalanche…"

All three of them, Rufus, Reno, and Rude tensed up when she casually mentioned the Eco terrorists. She smiled a tad. "Keep funding them. But please don't get involved in any convoluted, murder buck plans."

There wasn't much to be said. Rufus shared a look with Reno, who shrugged. Rude looked resigned, more than used to his sometimes charge knowing too much. They knew she was firmly team Rufus in the Shinra tower. And for some reason she was asking for Rufus and the Turks not to be involved in the assassination plot.

What to do now?

For now, he supposed he would simply finish his meal, and do what he could. Other energy sources were interesting, and he'd have to look into them. After all, he hardly wanted to rule over diseased land, a power of ash and death.

Aerith point of view

Soft, plump, and cool or warm based on the weather. Her smile was gentle while she stroked a petal, cooing to the flowers surrounding her. A beam of light shone down from the high up rafters, illuminating her happy place.

A lot had happened. All those years ago, Aerith had waken up to her mom gently laying Sophie onto the ground, whispering a spell to strengthen the sleep. It had shocked the Halfling enough she had leaped from the bed, a little angry. She hadn't been allowed to kneel down to her friend, Ifalna grabbing her up into her arms, leaving the room despite her protests.

What did you to her, why are we leaving? Those questions had been repeated even as she clung. It was rare Ifalna had the strength to lift her daughter into her arms. Aerith cherished it.

Of course, she didn't enjoy the mad dash down the stairs, or the sounds of pursuit. It hadn't taken long for Shinra troops to come after them, bullets ricocheting around.

"It'll be okay," Ilfana had choked out around her heaving breath. "It'll all be over soon."

Aerith hadn't realized how accurate the statement was. Hadn't realized until they'd ran through countless alleys, had backtracked, and seem her mother use great and terrible magic to defend the path she'd chosen. Flames erupted, ice tripped their pursuers up, and lightning used the ice as a conduit, rendering them motionless amid screams.

"What's that," Aerith asked. They were now walking beside a huge metal looking machine. Smoke belched from it as a harsh whistle bellowed over the air. It was fascinating even as it terrified her.

"It's a train, love. We're going…" Ifalna stumbled, dropping to her knees. The gasp that came from her was ragged.

"Mom?"

"I see now… alright." Ifalna murmured tiredly. She shuffled to the wall behind her, leaning her head back. She kept a grip on Aerith, who settled naturally against her stomach until she felt something warm. Liquid.

She drew back, hands red. Aerith knew shat blood was. "No."

Little body now trembling she desperately cast cure, feeling the drain and not caring. The Planet mourned as well, but also waited patiently.

"Enough, sweetling. I'm so glad… I got you out." Cooling hands brushed her cheek.

"Mom, no. I… we can go back! Sophie… maybe even Sephiroth, they'll know what to do. Just let me heal you up."

"I hope… fate can be averted as she hopes. As she wishes. Be strong, little one."

Tears had blurred her vision out, making her blind to the way Ifalna had paled as the blood left her body, the way her eyes unfocused. She wasn't listening, so she didn't hear the way the planet spoke around them, a soft murmur greeting and welcoming back an old friend.

What she did feel was the way someone knelt beside her, hands reaching to stem the blood flow.

"My God, what happened?" The voice was warm and feminine, catching Aeriths attention.

She was rough looking, tiredness already in her eyes. She would have been a beauty had she lived in a less harsh environment. Still, her hands were steady when she applied pressure, uncaring of the blood that gushed around her fingers and painted her hands and wrists. Ignored the Ifalna groaned under the pressure. Aerith felt hope.

"This is bad," the woman murmured. She glanced to Aerith, who'd settled at her side, eyes teary and wide.

When Ifalna grabbed her and pushed one wrist away she gasped. "Miss, I need to keep-"

"Y-your name?"

The woman released a breath. "Elmyra. Please, let me-"

Ifalna shook her head, but she was smiling suddenly. "She'll be happy. Please… Please, take Aerith somewhere safe." She dug through her pocket and pulled out a clear green materia. "Here, sweetling. I can't be here with you anymore."

"Please!" Aerith begged through her sobs, even as she took the materia.

Ifalna signed. "She'll keep you safe. And you must keep this safe. For me… you… you'll know what to do, if… if you must."

It seemed the woman's name, who Aerith had quickly began calling Mom as well, had been all Ifalna had been waiting for. Her head tipped back, and her body seemed to deflate. Breath exiting until there was none. Elmyra had swiped a forearm along her forehead, smearing blood, before leaning over to close the Ancients eyes.

Aerith started crying again, falling on her mothers now corpse. Begged the planet to give her back. She wished desperately for Sophie or Sephiroth to wake her up from this nightmare she found herself in.

Elmyra had settled beside her, glaring at the few who stopped to stare. Rough hands rubbed her back, soft murmured words. Aerith was soothed gradually, until Elmyra finally lifted her, carrying her through what was her first view of the sector five slums.

Her cottage was a little separated from the main residences. Her husband was an officer, she told Aerith, but they'd chosen to stay under the plate. Luckily once you owned land, it was yours regardless, so the cottage was hers free and clear. Aerith would love her husband, he was so terrific with kids.

Elmyra had tucked the girl into her own bed as she didn't have another just yet, eliciting promises that the child would remain in the room, or at least the house. She would be back.

Aerith knew, courtesy of the voices, that Elmyra went to go retrieve her mom's body. A strong, no nonsense woman, she would never leave it there to be pillaged. Not when her daughter resided with her. She also knew by the flash of guilt in her eyes the next morning, she hadn't been able to get it back.

She had, however, went out and bought dresses, and some stuffed animals. Slowly but surely she acclimated to motherhood, until it was second nature for them both to regard the other fondly.

When Tseng had arrived, months later, Aerith had been initially scared. Until the Wutain man had kneeled down, telling her that under order of VP Rufus if she didn't come willingly they weren't to touch her. He'd also made it a point to mention it would make Sophie happy, however, if she knew she'd been found.

So Aerith found herself writing letters to her dear friend. Ferried between them both by the Turks who they trusted. She was happy. After a while, Sophie had told her if she wanted, she'd send letters to Sephiroth from Aerith too, although she warned he rarely had time for replies.

Aerith happily complied. She hadn't lost her two friends after all.

Still she worried now and again. She had reached maturity and could understand the planer better. She realized now what Sephiroth was, and why the planet was hesitant around Sophie, as well. Still, she loved them both.

Aerith stood up slowly, dusting her skirt. "You can come out now. Just don't step on the flowers, please."

Vergil appeared from the shadows, a smirk tugging one side of his face. Aerith had long grown used to his appearance. Those years ago, when he refused to let any near him, he'd been healing. A rough scar had destroyed his left eye, and scarred half the face, making him look grizzled now. Still, he was handsome to her, even with the scar. He'd been assigned as her most common Turk guard, with the excuse Sophie needed someone whole, and Aerith needed someone familiar.

The man smirked, before producing a letter. Aerith beamed, but before she could reach out, he flicked his fingers and a second letter became seeable. Aerith positively glowed. A letter from both her friends at once was rare, and so precious.

This wasn't how she'd imagined her life. Yet, she was happy. How could she not be?

Review responses

XENOCANAAN: Our brains must work similarly when it comes to this fic. Which I adore! You know, I hadn't thought about them being sassy at all but... yeah, they develop more and more since they feed off each other. No wonder I'm pretty sure Rufus is going to go grey early. Glad you enjoyed!