Before they both knew each other,they were just experiments on opposite sides of reinforced glass.

Aerith was 18. He—the Guardian—was older, wilder, and scarred. An anthropomorphic hybrid, caged and catalogued, seen as a prototype for Shinra’s next biological weapon. She’d seen beasts before. But not him. He stood differently. He watched like someone trying to remember being human.

He noticed her first.

She didn’t run from his eyes. She stared back.

Somehow, even from opposite sides of the glass, they recognized the silence in each other.

For days after that, Aerith would return to the viewing room whenever she could. She never said a word. But she’d press her palm to the glass. And slowly—hesitantly—he’d do the same.

A ritual began.

The Room Without Glass

Shinra thought they were being clever.

They believed Aerith, being Cetra, might evoke a response in the hybrid—a resonance test. They’d observed how the two watched each other through the glass. Whispered theories of empathy. Obedience. Maybe even influence.

So they placed her in a containment room and brought him in.

No glass this time. No restraints on either of them. Just silence.

Aerith stood quietly, back against the far wall. She didn’t run. She didn’t try to speak. Just watched him with wide, uncertain eyes.

He didn’t charge. Didn’t growl. He was confused. Mistrustful. Cautious. But not aggressive.

He circled her once—slow, like a wary animal. Aerith’s breath caught in her throat. But when he paused in front of her, she did something strange.

She sat.

Cross-legged, on the cold floor. Unthreatening. Present.

Aerith softly, barely a whisper “You’ve been alone too, haven’t you?”

He didn’t understand the words. But he understood tone. She wasn’t afraid of him. Not really.

He sat too. A few feet away. Still watching.

And so began the first wordless conversation.

The scientists were baffled. No hostility. No command conditioning. But what they didn’t see was the look in his eyes—recognition. A flicker of something long buried. Not rage. Not obedience. Curiosity.

And the next time she was taken back to the glass…

He was already waiting.

The Secret Routine

They were separated again after that.

But it was different now.

He started following the sound of her footsteps in the hallways, dragging chains behind him. Whenever she passed, he’d sit facing her direction.

She began sneaking paper flowers into vents and grates. He’d find them near his cot—crushed, but not torn.

She’d hum lullabies in her cell at night. He’d tap the wall in rhythm. Sometimes… he’d hum back.

What began as observation became bond.

it was a new experiment “symbiosis” they combined a room for the two to be in which they stuck together Aerith was the one with the conversations the guardian with silent understanding and showing than saying she was drawing in her book..things shes seen from the outside and the guardian watched silently observing curiously? Observingly? The scientists would occasionally remove restraints and shackles so you could freely do so when ever they were present yet they never cared how tight they bounded you and the results.. you would find yourself today sitting besides her your height easily dwarfing hers,she pauses before looking up at you examining you quietly which she often did at times in silence