Final Fantasy VII Rebirth is the Most Painful Game I Have Ever Played
SPOILERS FOR FINAL FANTASY VII REBIRTH
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Originally, I planned to publish this article upon finishing Final Fantasy VII Rebirth. But as my journey through the game continued, something became clear: I’m being a bit selfish. I’m writing this not just for the audience, but for myself. This is not a review of the game; It’s a story about the journey leading up to the ending. I haven't yet finished Final Fantasy VII Rebirth, but I’m very close. The tension has hit its apex as I'm sitting here with a racing heart, ready to push on through the final chapter. Why wait? Because I needed this time to reflect. I wanted to take this moment to come to terms with how I feel, and to reach a point of acceptance no matter how the fates wind up. And above all, I want to tell you about how this incredible game has managed to stoke the flames of this girl's dead, cold heart, and impact me so deeply.
Final Fantasy VII Rebirth is the most painful game I have ever played.
To clarify, Rebirth is an incredible game. Like Remake, it feels like a Square product of old, with levity, charm, wit and heart back in full force. I can think of no greater praise than to say that it brings the magic of the Square Soft days back to life. I loved it. But the mark of a strong piece of art is not always how much we enjoyed it, but rather how it impacted and enlightened us. Unlike the original Final Fantasy VII, which I believe at times struggled to flesh out some of its characters, Rebirth is a masterclass in characterization. Each member of the team is given a specific time to shine throughout the 80-hour-long adventure. It takes the time to get to know each and every one, and even show them in non-dire situations where they can simply breathe and be themselves.
All of this contributes to one Hell of a painful payoff if, like me, you have a particular favorite character. And this particular character is arguably the heart of FFVII's second chapter.
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I love Aerith Gainsborough. I identify with her. I look to her example for guidance. She represents the kind of woman I strive to be, embracing femininity and softness while still standing proud as a sassy, tough and independent soul. She presents her quirky nature so unapologetically that it reassures me of my own. If Tifa is proof that a tough exterior can mask a delicate interior, then Aerith is the opposite. She's also helped encourage me to become more comfortable with blending my love for feminine fashion, with my odd and awkward personality. Aerith proves a girl can wear a cute dress while still being a badass. I went around a convention as her last year, giving flowers away to everyone who I spoke with. I plan to have her song play as I walk down the aisle of my wedding. When I show off certain hairstyles or clothes to my mom and sister, they will often say, “Oh, it’s very Aerith-like too!”
I feel a strong connection to her, and I can safely say there is no fictional character who I have grown to care for more. On the one hand, you might call it dramatic and a tad silly. But on the other, what are fictional characters but merely an extension of a real person’s mind, heart and experiences? They can be as real as a writer, or voice actor makes them. When you connect with a character, it’s not simply a pile of pixels you're feeling for; it’s a piece of another living person, connecting with you via the page, or in this case, the screen.
​Rebirth embodies the second third of Final Fantasy VII's story, and culminates in arguably the most iconic and most well-known moment in RPG history. It all heads toward a twist that is so well-known that it even gives Darth Vader's identity a run for its money. Now I cannot tell you yet if Rebirth follows the same trend as the original, but what I can say is that this prior knowledge made this an incredibly difficult game for me to play. In the days leading up to Rebirth's release, I wasn't sure if I could play the game. I paced around my house thinking of all the possible directions the story could take. But this only made me more uncomfortable. We all know how Aerith's story is supposed to end; I couldn't accept it. I could not bring myself to get to this moment. I messaged my mom and sister, telling them how this was it; "This is the game where it happens." My mom reassured me that my feelings were valid and not at all too extreme.
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I want to make one thing perfectly clear: This is rare for me. I don’t get this way over deaths in media. The last I can remember was back in 2012 when Doctor Who said goodbye to my favorite companion, Amy Pond. I slipped into a two-week depression following that event, but I've never been hit that way again since. This is partly because loss in media is so fickle nowadays, but also because I’ve consumed so many stories that I’m largely desensitized. Oh sure, I still feel something and have immense appreciation for a well-told tale, but when you study storytelling (Don’t study storytelling) you start to lose your ability to consume things without a critical eye. You also start to realize how much work is being done solely by a soundtrack, but that’s another topic.
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I do not by any means believe those who are able to constantly cry at these kinds of games are wrong to do so. On the contrary, I wish I could be there with them! But you can’t help what you feel, and I know that nowadays it takes a lot for me to get invested in such a way that it affects how I function in my outside life. Final Fantasy VII Rebirth has not only done this, but it’s done this for me in a way no other fictional story ever has. It's not an exaggeration to say that this game helped me get back in touch with my emotions, and it did in a way that made me feel young again. I felt sick to my stomach thinking about the fate of Aerith. I wept on more than one occasion before I even played the game. I have a picture of a beautiful illustration of the character in the streets of Midgar hanging up in my bedroom, and upon looking at it while trying to fall asleep one night, I broke out into tears. I knew the time to say goodbye was close at hand.
I convinced myself that Aerith would be just fine this time around. But as the game's release crept close, the reality hit me hard.
That sense of dread permeates throughout Rebirth. Aerith’s ultimate fate is always lurking in the background, adding a layer of tension to scenes that otherwise would-and for the characters likely should- be devoid of. The result is a powerful sense of dramatic irony that helps Rebirth stand out from most stories. We know she’s likely to die, the creators do. Hell, even she might. But the other characters don’t. I was not able to enjoy the slower, cheerful sections of this second chapter as much as I should have, and in some strange way, I’m glad for it. It turned my experience with the game into a unique one that I haven’t really gotten from any other. I was constantly on edge, only one dangerous thought about the future away from bursting into tears. I've heard some criticize the game for having so many sidetrack moments in which the characters linger with no forward momentum in their goal. I completely understand this issue, but I also think for a game that revolves so heavily on the fate of one character, these tender moments only add to the weight of Aerith's eventual fate. Not many games can get away with this, but I'd argue this is an exception.
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With all that being said, I don't want to suggest for one second that my deep feelings for this game only stem from a pre-established bias for a character. And that's because Rebirth itself is punctuated by several beautiful moments that further drive a blade into the hearts of Aerith's fans. The moments leading up to the game's finale are a particular highlight, with the flower girl reciting a ballad during a play of Loveless that is essentially a goodbye to players. She sings, "Til the day that we meet again," a line directed at fans like me who need to know in order to grieve, that on some level, we're all heading to the same place at journey's end. Chapter 13 also makes sure to put the spotlight on her, and rightfully so as in many ways, as this game in particular is really her story.
Rebirth gives Aerith a beautiful ballad where she essentially says goodbye to the players, and tells us to carry on without her.
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But no moment compared to a sequence that I can safely say now takes the tonberry's crown for the most I have ever cried to a piece of media. In a brief glimpse of her past, Aerith sees her childhood self as she rushes to find a doctor for her dying mother. Her last words to her are "We have to go on our adventure, mommy!" Aerith's entire story is centered around a unique and tragic upbringing. And to know that a character with such a sad and lonely backstory would soon be following along with her mother in the lifestream... I lost it. I've always been good at maintaining my composure. You need to learn that skill to not rip the heads off whiney customers as a barista. But I felt something snap in me at this moment. I've cried at moments in games before, but on some level, I always try to force the tears out so that I can get more out of a scene. This was not one of those moments. My guard suddenly crumbled to the ground and I began sobbing so much that my friend had to console me. I felt afraid to be alone that night.
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And the worst part about it all? It’s the right choice. It is the proper direction the story must take. A story needs weight. It needs consequences. Death is a part of our every day lives, and when the stakes are high, characters should feel vulnerable to it. It depends on the story, of course, but Aerith’s sacrifice is so beautifully interwoven into the emotional payoff of Final Fantasy VII. The final moments of Final Fantasy VII have become increasingly powerful to me over the years, with the lifestream representing a physical manifestation of Aerith's soul, helping the team one last time from beyond the grave. Final Fantasy VII is a story about finding who you are in the midst of trauma and loss. If Zack's fate is the catalyst for Cloud's inner turmoil, Aerith's represents Cloud's apotheosis, and acceptance of loss. You simply do not have the same experience without it. I admit that wholeheartedly, and it doesn’t make it hurt any less.
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But Aerith’s death is profound for reasons beyond its time of inception and legacy. It cuts deep because unlike so many other pieces of media (especially modern) she stays dead. Aside from a few potent messages after her demise, the flower girl is never to return. She is of a select few characters who simply has never cheated the rules in any manner. (Errr unless you count Kingdom Hearts)
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If one of the goals of a roleplaying game is to feel as though you’ve been injected into the character then Rebirth achieved this for me perfectly. Because like Cloud himself, I am unable to let go. The developers are not simply telling the character to move on; They are telling me, and they know it. We must accept loss. We must look not to the empty future without our loved ones, but to the past we shared with them. The sheer privelage of experiencing time with a character like Aerith, and having her influence touch me as much as it has, is what kept me pushing through Rebirth: Through all the dread, pain and grief.
FFVII Rebirth is humbled with slower, intimate moments that only serve to make the tragedy sting that much worse.
Oh I know, this theme is not supposed to be hidden deep within the wrinkles of Final Fantasy VII. Death and overcoming loss has always been at the forefront. But I was able to experience it this time the way perhaps so many did all those years ago. And because the Gods hate me, I got to experience it with my favorite character of all time. Curse you, fate, for not making me a Tifa superfan instead.
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The developers of the game have made it clear that the Remake trilogy is going to line up with the sequel film Advent Children, and while I've never been its biggest fan, I can only imagine how much harder the final scene when Cloud says goodbye to Aerith in the church will hit me now. If the goal of this new trilogy is to help enhance and re-contextualize the mythos of Final Fantasy VII, then they've succeeded spectacularly. I don't know what's going to happen to Aerith at the end of this game, but I do believe that if the game is destined to wind up at the same conclusion as the original, then her surviving by the end of this trilogy seems very unlikely. Could there be some timey-wimey shenanigans that help soften the blow or give us some sort of consolation? Absolutely, but I've never felt so conflicted about that possibility. The woman in me, the one who cares about Aerith so much, would be ecstatic, while the storyteller in me knows she probably has to die for the good of the plot. The story is above everything. It must always come before everything else.
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One of my favorite quotes comes from legendary fantasy author Neil Gaiman, who said, "One day, when I've met my maker, I imagine there will be a knock at my door. And on the other side, all of the characters who I had to kill in my stories will confront me. They will say, 'Why did I have to suffer and die?' And I will say 'For the enlightenment and entertainment of the audience.' They will ask, 'Is that enough?' And I will say, 'It has to be.'"
Should that mantra ever be ignored? The Final Fantasy VII Remake trilogy revolves around the theme of whether or not we can defy fate. It's not the most uncommon in the JRPG industry, but if the game pulls it off, I do believe it can be made incredibly poignant. In other JRPGs the answer will most likely be yes. But would it be possible that Rebirth dares to say no? And could Aerith's death be a perfect way of showcasing that?
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At first, I didn’t understand it. If the theme of the game is supposed to be whether we can fight against fate, then wouldn’t a simple “Nope” ring pretty hollow? But I made the mistake of looking at this through the lens of most RPG stories, where the antagonist is an evil God-like being that controls fate and the heroes overcoming it is an inevitability. Should Final Fantasy VII Rebirth dare to defy these expectations then perhaps it's an even smarter game than those. It has the courage and maturity to admit the truth: No, sometimes we cannot beat fate, but we CAN choose how we react to it.
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It took me days to wrestle with my feelings and prepare myself to get through this game, and even while playing I feel a heaviness in my heart. I look for any excuse I can to prevent myself from moving the plot forward, whether that be open-world busywork, or trying to become Queensblood champion. Is it denial? Is it bartering? Is the game designed to make people like me literally go through the stages of grief? I don't know, but I do know that it's resulted in an experience I will cherish, despite the pain.
"One day, when I've met my maker, I imagine there will be a knock at my door. And on the other side, all of the characters who I had to kill in my stories will confront me. They will say, 'Why did I have to suffer and die?' And I will say 'For the enlightenment and entertainment of the audience.' They will ask, 'Is that enough?' And I will say, 'It has to be.'"
- Neil Gaiman
​Aerith is sweet, selfless, charming and warm. I picture someone like that being taken away and it Hurts like Hell. She has so many scenes throughout the game that I believe emphasize that unlike the other party members who are mostly fixated on a goal, and a purpose, she is simply there to live, and to experience wonders she's never felt before. And when you make sure that this is the character who ironically, must ultimately die, and who faces it willingly, well, how can that not break your heart I wonder.
There is a scene toward the end of the game where she pours her heart out to the party, and admits that for the first time in her life, she's happy because she's found friends and a sense of belonging. I cried. I cried knowing I've been there too, but above all, I cried because I know this moment is fleeting for her. Some of the greatest stories of all time dare to challenge us, and rip our hearts out unapologetically. I have immense respect for Final Fantasy VII Rebirth because it's put me through the wringer. It has reminded me of the sheer power of storytelling, and it's helped me break free of a critic's mindset, where I can experience something that's touched me on a personal level.
I don't want Aerith to go. I am not there yet. Will I be there by the end? I don't know. In many ways, a fictional character is immortal. I'll always have her. I'll have her going forward when I have to make the right choices in life. I'll have her at my wedding when I look to the future of what kind of woman I want to be. I'll have her much in the same way Cloud and the others will beyond her death, in memory.
When Aerith uses her first level limit break in the game, she shouts some pretty poetic words that I need to hold onto right now. She gently proclaims, "Stay strong and carry on." I'm damn grateful a character has spoken to me as much as she has. And I'm so glad she's been able to do this for other women as well. No matter what happens when I roll the credits in a few hours, I'm grateful that a character like Aerith Gainsborough exists.
By Katie Retondo 03/09/2024