What are your personal top ten video games? When I’ve had this discussion with friends in the past, some have had their answers for each slot locked in, while others are more changeable.

One thing that will never change, for me, is the number one spot. Final Fantasy 9 captivated me with its whimsical style, unique ability-learning system, character development and wonderful soundtrack (my soundtrack CD set Nobuo Uematsu signed for me is one of my prized possessions) from my first journey through it.

I’m often more of a one-and-done sort of player, but this is one of the few titles that I thoroughly enjoy just as much each and every playthrough. That’s not to say that it doesn’t have its issues: There’s really no need for the battles to be as outrageously slow as they are, and Tetra Master is an RNG-hungry abomination in my eyes.

That darn jump rope game is still the bane of my existence too. Still, there’s always got to be something to nitpick. More than any other entry in the series, it’s the characters and their journeys that have endeared Final Fantasy 9 to me for life.

There are few more beloved characters in the series than Vivi, but it’s not just about him. Steiner, who at first seemed to be nothing more than a great, obnoxious blowhard, eventually learned to think and act for himself, rather than simply following orders and his preconceived notions of people.

From the lovable rogues of Tantalus to the courageous little Eiko, all the major players in the game have their own touching tale to tell.

Of course, so many video games present us with utterly tragic situations, which we’ll sometimes helplessly watch in cutscenes or read about in documents scattered around the environments. One that I have always found very affecting was the journal entry from poor old “Itchy tasty” in Resident Evil.

We had a certain detachment from that poor soul’s zombification, though, because it had already happened. What Final Fantasy 9 often does is place us right at the heart of some awful incidents. The thing about games asking us to make important decisions is that, sometimes, we’ll have to make awful ones.

The events in Cleyra really are heart-wrenching. We are given some time to explore this calm, peaceful, welcoming place before the Alexandrian forces and Black Mages arrive. We get talking to some of the NPCs, and the party even comments that they want to protect the town because the people there are so lovely.

Only once that’s firmly established are we then forced to try and save their lives, with a series of multiple-choice prompts for directions to take as Zidane tries to lead them up to the safest and most defensible point at the top of the town. Make the wrong choice, and a spawning-in Black Mage instantly kills them.

Now, there’s no gore in the game. An NPC simply vanishes when struck down by a spell. This matter-of-factness, though, somehow makes it all the more impactful for me.

On finally arriving at the top of the town, Zidane will sadly ask whether these are the only survivors. Which I really didn’t appreciate, as I already felt terrible.

The Moments That Hit The Hardest

Sometimes, the party in an RPG can beat back such an attack, nobly saving a settlement or a group of people. Here, Cleyra is utterly destroyed whatever you do, and Odin’s attack ultimately makes everything you might have achieved moot. But not before making you feel awful about everyone you failed.

Later in the game, Freya meets some fellow survivors of Burmecia and Cleyra, and they enthusiastically discuss future rebuilding efforts. That, alongside the meeting with Wei, Kal (the soldier you rescued in Burmecia), and all their children in Lindblum, shows that hope really does always win out.

Let’s not forget, too, that the children ask their parents who Zidane is, and their father explains that Zidane is his savior. The children respond that they want a savior too, because “he looks cool.” It’s hilarious, yes, but it really is touching too.

There are so many examples of these emotional moments throughout the game, with another that everybody remembers being Black Waltz 3’s attack on the airship. The other Black Mages surround Vivi, as though to protect him, and the Black Waltz blasts them away.Vivi watches, horrified, as the Black Mages fall overboard, and hits Trance state as the boss battle commences.

Very early in the game, in Evil Forest, Steiner muses that Trance (the game’s take on limit breaks) is “induced by a surge of emotion.” It’s a very fitting idea for a heartstring-plucker like this game, and it’s also very interesting mechanics-wise.

It’s unusual for an RPG to tie battle mechanics into story events like this, and it’s done so effectively, as were moments like Beatrix’s change of heart (what a great permanent party member she’d have been) and Steiner’s faltering attempts to tell her how he felt about her.

For me, the most emotional scene in all of gaming would be the one that occurs after Zidane meets Garland in Pandemonium. By this late point in the game, I’d long since stopped wondering why Zidane had a tail, thinking it was just another quirk in a world of anthropomorphic rats.

Then, however, we learned the truth: Zidane is not a human, but was created by Garland for his own destructive ends. The revelation, quite understandably, ruins the guy’s whole day, and he leaves to fight his way to his new nemesis without the party.

Hope Is Eternal

His friends rejoin him over the course of a series of battles, followed by a long and loving conversation in which they (other than Amarant who remains utterly Amarant about the entire situation) express how much they’ve come to care about him. Steiner’s “Chivalry requires a knight to look after his comrades-in-arms. I will not abandon you. And I shall follow you to kingdom come if I must. You remember that” still hits me just as hard on my umpteenth playthrough.

This game has absolutely aged like fine wine.

So, too, do the Black Mages and their situation. In the Black Mage Village, the community is coming to terms with life and the point of it all, just as Vivi is. They bury their friends under the ground when they “stop moving,” but are unsure why and, in one tearjerking conversation, ask whether they’re okay down there and when they will come back out of the ground again.

One of my very favorite things that Final Fantasy 9 did was find the Genomes a home in this village with the Black Mages. They can bond, teach and learn from each other.

It’s a positive and emotional note to finish the game on, as are such story beats as Zidane’s return from presumed death and the Tantalus crew’s dedication to continuing the Theater District rebuild.

Vivi’s ‘voiceover’ was such a fantastic touch too. All in all, I think the game, perhaps one of the saddest RPGs ever, has so much to teach us.

Quina has yet another life philosophy to throw into the mix. That of “I do what I want. You have problem?” From the instinctive to the constant worrier, we all have our own ways of coping, and it’s absolutely okay for them to evolve over time. It’s healthy, in fact.

I think my biggest takeaway from this wonderful RPG is this: Tragedies happen and disasters befall us, and when they do, they can lead us to question everything. What remains, though, just as when Pandora’s box was opened, is hope.