Calamity

I wish I had the skills of an animator. I'd make a short film reimagining the ending of FFVII and use this song. I get teary eyed every time I hear this track because, especially in that context, is such a vivid and emotive piece. I can see it clearly: All of the people, all over the world opening their doors and windows, stepping out into the night. All staring in awe at the sky. Bugenhagen looking out from his observatory. Seto, forever frozen howling at the strange dark. The Chocobo sage, distractedly scratching behind his bird’s ears, eyes upward. The excavation crew in Bone Village dropping their pick axes, taking off their helmets watching the bleeding new moon. Dio, in his palace of fools gold, looks up too. The people of Gongaga look away from all their loss, look skyward. Fort Condor. Icicle. Mideel. Wutai. Rocket Town. The people of Corel come out from their tents, from their structures of scrap and they forget the heat of the flames, the sound of gunfire. The men at the bar in Costa del Sol drop their drinks. Mukki pushes his toothpick umbrella to the side and sips his. Johnny hugs his girlfriend, glad for the first time, she is not Tifa. Priscilla sits on her knees at the water’s edge below Junon, meteor reflecting on the surface, a fiery wound. The ShinRa Mansion is a silent sentinel, tired from all of the secrets. The girls at Honeybee pour outside, linked arm in arm, gawking skyward through the damaged plate. The woman in sector five nudges the person next to her as if to say /I told you to keep looking up./ All the people of Midgar. Below the intact parts of the plate, they cannot see. But they feel. Reno, Rude and Elena look up from their game of cards, cigarette butts smoldering in the ashtray, the table lined with bottles. They toast to Tseng. And Marlene opens the window of the house in Kalm, looks down to all of the people gathered in the town square below. All staring open mouthed. All silent. “It is coming,” she says. Holy is coming. Twisting, spirals of aquamarine light. All of the souls of everything that ever was or ever would be. Creeping from the earth, grasping upward. Yuffie thinks of her ancestors as the stone faces of Da-chao watch on. Reeve thinks of the people in the slums. He thinks of the people of privilege. He thinks of the lucky color blue. Nanaki thinks of his grandfather and feels homesick. He thinks of his father and feels pride. Cid thinks of Gaia from space, how small and fragile it seemed. He thinks of how small Shera’s hands seemed. He thinks of the Bikini Goddess, thinks of flying without machines. Barrett thinks of Dyne. Of Biggs and Wedge and Jessie. He thinks of Myrna, of Marlene. He thinks of eco-terrorism being terrorism all the same. Vincent thinks of Jenova in her unending sleep, alone and hidden and still. He smiles. Tifa grabs Cloud’s hand. Their fingers interlock. They all know. They will all die. They are not afraid. Everyone is at peace. Because they realize– none of it matters. None of their experiences, or their hurts, or their struggles or loss. None of their hopes, or their efforts, or their stories. Everything is equal. The threat must be removed. Holy works. Everyone’s eyes squint as Gaia is consumed in a flash of light, as the threat to the planet is washed away. Aeris’ prayer echoes. They are gone. The world is clean. All mistakes are erased. Everything is zero. And it is beautiful.