Quirky Thoughts On by Kabbaway

FFVII Rebirth Retrospective ~ Reeve, the Cait Siths and their Moogles

**The following is a transcript for a video uploaded on the 4th of September, 2026. You can watch the video here ~ https://youtu.be/ip8w_ZvxIJI

G’day websurfers, editing Kabba here. Far from Gold Saucer feeling like a well-earned break from the grit and chaos of the outside world like it did in OG, this first visit in Chapter 8 of Rebirth was just more of the same shit for me. By the time we got here, I was already quite burnt out minigames thanks to Chapters 5 and 6, and while Chapter 7 was relatively decent, the lack of narrative tension surrounding Cloud’s condition, despite being a central conflict in the story, was really starting to annoy me. So for Gold Saucer to take us right back to the status quo of the party ignoring their mission and Cloud’s welfare in favour of even more filler content was exasperating.

Granted, some of my issues with this section were entirely my own fault. I’m not a good gamer by any means - I was so bad at that brawler game’s tutorial it took me like 7 minutes to realise I was pressing the wrong button. And I’ll give Gold Saucer this: wrangling those chocofloats into that fenced off area was probably the most fun I had in the entire game. Yep, you heard me right. My favourite part of Rebirth had nothing to do with the story, core mechanics, cinematography or even the graphics - it was the object interactivity, a trivial feature I could easily experience in so many other games for a fraction of the price. I wish I’d thought to take the ones from Chocobo Square down to join the rest of the flock, but oh well.

Now, there were a few story elements I could’ve covered in this Retrospective. Originally, I’d planned to further elaborate on the fugitive subplot and Shinra’s incompetence; I even had 2,000+ words written for it. I also wanted to express my thoughts on Zack and the overlapping realities his arc represents. But after an unexpected spark of inspiration, I just knew I had to dedicate this time to something, or rather someone, else - the enigmatic creature who made his formal introduction in this chapter.

When first engaging with OG back in the mid-to-late 2010s, Cait Sith was my third least favourite party member. Him and his moogle obviously have a cute design, but I didn’t enjoy his luck-based combat in the slightest and thought he was pretty forgettable, if not jarringly tonedeaf and out-of-place with the rest of FFVII’s story. Most of all, I found it hard to become invested in him as a character because, up until very recently, I didn’t even think he was his own character. To be fair, the writers didn’t exactly do him any favours there. Contrary to what my previous Retrospectives might have you believe, I am NOT an OG glazer - don’t get me wrong it’s a great game but it’s NOT perfect, and the collective concept of Cait Sith is just one of the reasons why.

His arc revolves around being used as a surveillance tool by Reeve, his creator, to gather intel on the party, culminating in him betraying them by giving Tseng the Keystone to the Temple of the Ancients. He attempts to redeem himself by volunteering to solve the puzzle that would trigger the temple to compress into the Black Materia, getting crushed in the process. A second Cait Sith arrives just minutes later (in the most insensitive way possible), and apart from a throwaway line no distinction is ever made between the two of them again. In fact, the rest of the expanded FFVII story doubles down on this, with Dirge of Cerberus revealing there have been up to 7 Cait Siths and implying they all hold the memories of their predecessors.

Now, this wouldn’t be a problem if the Cats were only ever meant to be extensions of their maker, but Cat 1’s final moments contradict that idea - he’s shown to be sentient and self-aware, he delights in Aerith comforting and encouraging him, he’s bashful but selflessly resolute in his love for the world, he’s insecure about the nature of his existence, he wants to be treated like a real person… because it doesn’t matter what his body is made of, this puzzle will kill him just like it would anyone else. And it did. When you stop and think about it, this is one of the most tragic arcs in all of FFVII - an artificial entity beholden to his creator’s every command, forced to betray the only people to ever respect him, before giving his own life to make up for actions that arguably weren’t even his own.

He dies scared of being replaced and forgotten… and FFVII almost seems to play it for laughs. The one person to honour his sacrifice dies herself shortly afterwards, and his successor looks and behaves identically to him, so the game proceeds as though his death never happened. Not even the HUD or status menu acknowledge that this is a different Cat from the one we met in Gold Saucer. To add further insult to injury, Cat 2 gets increasingly reduced to a glorified speaker for Reeve to communicate with the party through.

OG should’ve better clarified the nature of their existence - it needed to commit to portraying them as either inanimate vessels or distinct entities. Because the message conveyed in what we got is so fucking cynical - all because they’re not organic life forms, the Cats’ feelings aren’t worth acknowledging or empathising with. We should dismiss Cat 1’s dying wish as a lazy attempt to elicit an emotional response from players, so we can comfortably objectify him and his clones as nothing more than quirky little mascots providing extra manpower for the party, and plot devices to facilitate the obligatory disclaimer that not all oligarchs are bad. And that’s all without even mentioning the moogles they sit atop, the ones who do all the heavy lifting for them. Do they have a conscience too? If so, that’s even more fucked up because they’re nonverbal so they can’t tell anyone how they feel; hell, they don’t even have a name of their own.

None of these implications feel narratively intentional - It’s like the devs couldn’t decide whether they wanted a redeemable traitor or a one-dimensional goofball, so they mashed those ideas together with no rhyme or reason. They clearly wanted us to feel SOMETHING for these characters, but they neglected to do anything to earn that payoff. If they can be endlessly revived or replaced with no impact on the story or gameplay whatsoever, how are we supposed to care about what they go through and how it makes them feel? What’s the point in making them sentient at all, if you’re not gonna do anything interesting with that idea? The underdevelopment of Cait Sith is a blemish on OG’s reputation as a well-written game, one which a remake is the perfect position to resolve. So, did it? Well… sort of.

Name pronunciation aside, Cait Sith is one of the few characters I believe has somewhat benefited from the remake treatment. Due to its exclusive use of text boxes with the occasional exaggerated gesture, it’s sometimes hard to determine the intended tone of OG’s dialogue. The Cats in particular suffer from this, with many players, myself included, finding their dialogue abrasive and annoying. Whereas in Rebirth, the more subtle yet expressive animation as well as Paul Tinto’s couthy voice acting dramatically alters Cait Sith’s portrayal, endearing him to the audience much better. We even get the implication that his moogle is also sentient, answering at least one of the many questions I had about how these characters work.

Unfortunately, just like with every other aspect of Re- project’s writing, likeability is no substitute for development. Sure, we may feel more sympathy for this Cat Sith when he sacrifices himself, but there it is again - what exactly is being sacrificed here? In this version of events, Cat’s depicted as a single conscience that can be transferred between bodies. Now, Cat doesn’t necessarily need to die in order to redeem himself; in fact far too many stories use that trope as a crutch to avoid holding characters accountable for their actions. Besides, while this iteration of him can’t die by conventional means, he‘s still capable of feeling fear and presumably pain as well, so it’s not like he isn’t risking anything by trying to stall the temple’s collapse. My problem is more so with the fact that Re- project opted to sidestep OG’s shortcomings, instead of tackling them head-on.

OG gave us but an inkling of how the Cats resent the world‘s perception of them, deeply yearning for something more from their existence. Rebirth could’ve acknowledged the unceremonious treatment of the Cats, turning it into a deliberate commentary on exploitation and objectification. But through making everyone in the party respect him, retconning the other Cait Siths and otherwise failing to indicate any lasting consequences from his sacrifice, it all but erases that one spark of character development and thematic significance Cait Sith had going for him. I have to ask: why should we be invested in this version of the character when all he has to offer is a toothless rendition of his original arc, and being cute and funny just like everything else in this game?

Meanwhile, just like every other good or redeemable character in FFVII, Reeve’s had his own fair share of sanitisation in Re- project. In OG, he blackmails the party by holding Marlene hostage, and talks about his creations in a way which is, in retrospect, extremely callous. Sure, we know Reeve has good intentions, but he is ultimately creating life just to make them fight his own wars for him. He always gives them the same default design, never shows interest in them as individuals with their own opinions and desires, overrides their will whenever it suits him, and doesn’t mourn any of them when they’re killed in the line of duty he set out for them. No wonder Cat 1 was so insecure in his self-worth! The Cats may seem happier and better-adjusted, but in many ways they are just as abused as Cloud is. Their father being labelled as a redemptive figure by the overall plot doesn’t change that; in fact, the way this toxic dynamic seems to go on unchallenged for the rest of the OG continuity makes it all the more horrifying.

Re- project could’ve addressed Reeve’s flaws and transgressions, but once again it chose to gloss over any need to hold a character accountable for their actions. As it currently stands, he never objectifies Cait Sith or manipulates the party. Now, he’s a generic good guy who just needs the confidence to stand up to his boss and colleagues. Not only does it deny the nuances of how even the most well-intentioned members of the ruling class can still weaponise their privilege over others, but it also deprives Cat of a new arc he could’ve very plausibly undergone in lieu of his permanent death. Fleshing out the insidious aspects of their relationship would’ve been an excellent way of ensuring this now practically immortal being remains relatable and worth rooting for.

While Rebirth succeeded in making Caith Sith a more welcome addition to the party, it ultimately repeated OG’s mistakes in not developing him to his full potential. Hear me out. Cloud’s struggle to reclaim his identity and agency from those who quote-unquote “made” him is one of the core conflicts of FFVII. He is constantly dehumanised by Sephiroth, Hojo and Jenova, who all play a part in gaslighting him into believing he’s just a puppet for their respective agendas. He‘s terrified that he might not be “real” in the human sense, that he has no purpose outside of being a tool of destruction… and guess who can relate to that? Whether Cait Sith is one or many entities, they are uniquely equipped to offer consolation and advice on Cloud’s existential crisis - they’re living proof that even if he was artificially created, his life would be no less valid than anyone else’s. Not always having control of your own body can really suck, but it’s how you choose to spend your moments of freedom that truly defines you. Whether we’re born or built, we all deserve the freedom to express ourselves and pave our own path through life.

Wouldn’t it have been amazing if Rebirth had taken the time to establish that thematic parallel? Hell, Reeve could even use his insights on Shinra and his own ability to confirm that nobody else, not even Hojo, is capable of creating artificial life from scratch, helping reassure Cloud that he is in fact an organic human. Conversely, Cloud has a lot to offer Reeve and the Cats as well - seeing his struggle with Sephiroth’s manipulation could help them come to a mutual understanding: their dynamic could be much worse, but it could also be much better. The Cats need to be able to trust their father is reasonable in what he asks of them, and Reeve needs to facilitate that trust by showing he cares about his children beyond their convenience to him.

Grief is another spectre haunting FFVII. In every conceivable way, Aerith was designed to be irreplaceable: the party’s beacon of hope, the main person responsible for Cloud’s change of heart, the only specialised healer, the last of an ancient race of people. OG takes its time to let us get attached to each and every special thing about her… so that it’s all the more devastating when it all gets ripped away. These writing and game mechanic choices helped cement her as one of the most impactful characters in all of gaming history… to the point we all forget she wasn’t the only party member to die. Like Aerith, the Cats are more jovial and optimistic than most of the party, but more importantly they share in her status as a wholly unique type of being. As far as we know Reeve is the only person alive with this ability, and he only uses it to create them. Their existence is nothing short of a miracle, but Cat 1’s dying wish goes ungranted. His sacrifice is barely acknowledged and quickly discarded because him and his successors are depicted as the exact opposite of Aerith: as expendable as they are interchangeable. She was the only one to treat the first Cait Sith like a real person in the end. What if Rebirth had given this one act of kindness much more weight?

Imagine if Rebirth hadn’t retconned the fact that each Cait Sith model is a different entity, and had the rest of the party remain cold towards him. Reeve could overhear Cat 1’s final moments right after sending Cat 2 to replace him, realising too late that his creations are real living beings, and that he had deprived them of the love and validation they desperately needed. Aerith’s death could compound these feelings of grief and remorse - he’d taken for granted that he could materialise as many creations as he wanted, meanwhile Elmyra, already an aging widow, was just robbed of her only child. The same child who was there for his own son when he wasn’t. All because of how he’d forced Cat 1 to act nobody else honoured him… his memory mustn’t be allowed to die with Aerith. None of his children should ever have to suffer like that again.

At some point in Revelation, constantly witnessing the party mourn Aerith but not their fallen brother could trigger Cat 2 to have an existential breakdown. Driven by his own identity issues, Cloud confides in Cat 2 that Aerith had asked him to say something to comfort Cat 1 before he died, but he didn’t. He regrets never affirming Cat 1 but is grateful Aerith was able to, and he’d like to follow her example by not making the same mistake with them. Moved by Cloud’s anecdote, Cat 2 resolves to form their own unique identity. Reeve later apologises to Cat 2 for neglecting his creations’ welfare, offering to customise their appearance to suit their personality and to start talking with them instead of through them.

Believe it or not, the potential narrative contributions of Reeve and his creations don’t stop there. At first glance, the concept of an Inspire doesn’t really seem to fit within the established magic system in FFVII, but I do think it makes sense on closer inspection. Magic tends to come from one of two places: the Lifestream via materia and mako, or Jenova via genetic mutation. Aerith is a notable exception, due to her Cetra heritage. The Cetra were able to harness the Lifestream at will in order to fulfill their duties as stewards of the Planet. Now, humans and Cetra aren’t separate species - humans are simply the descendants of Cetra who abandoned tradition by forming settlements and neglecting their connection with the Planet, losing their magical abilities with each passing generation in the process.

The ways of the Cetra have been almost completely forgotten or relegated to legend, but there do seem to be humans who have retained supernatural powers of their own, such as with the party’s Limit Breaks, Marlene’s clairvoyance, and Bugenhagen’s longevity and capacity to hear the voices in the Lifestream. Reeve might be one of those rare people. Cetra dedicated their lives to raising mako energy, specifically through facilitating the natural cycle of life. Growing up in the countryside could’ve helped Reeve connect with the Planet enough to awaken a similar skill, but without cultural or spiritual guidance he ends up applying it to a more technological context once he moves to Midgar. So, how does he do that? Well the following is just my theory, but I think it helps tie everything together quite nicely.

OG’s devs may have been inspired to create the concept of the Lifestream through their own experiences with Shinto. Shinto is Japan’s most widely practised religion, broadly characterised by the belief that entities called Kami reside within all of creation. Perhaps through Shinto’s influence, Japan is the backdrop for a subtype of animism which I believe is applicable to the Cats and moogles: techno-animism, the belief that manmade inventions have their own souls. Bugenhagen explains that the Lifestream gives life to absolutely everything on the Planet, suggesting that spirit energy is not restricted to sentient beings. The Cats and moogles’ bodies are made of unspecified metals, plush fabrics and glass or plastic, all of which originate from natural resources like ores, plant fibres, animal fur, sand and fossil fuels. It stands to reason that any manmade object could inherit spirit energy from its organic components, albeit to a warped and diminished degree. This could explain how Reeve anthropomorphises inanimate objects - he simply channels and amplifies the dormant spirit energy within them, allowing an entity to manifest and interact with the world around them. When an object is destroyed beyond repair the spirit energy is permanently dispersed, unable to reanimate or return to the Lifestream since artificial matter can’t really decompose the same way organic matter can.

Through Aerith’s death, the Cetra have been made extinct; Reeve and his creations are now relics of the magical forces which have been snuffed from the world. They could lament this fact at first, before unanimously deciding to honour the Cetra’s legacy… but how? They recognise that Shinra’s practices are unsustainable and systemic change is necessary for the sake of all life, but they also reject ecofascism as the answer; countless people will die without the safety provided by modern infrastructure and supply chains, not to mention it’d be extremely wasteful and not conducive to mitigating the harm already caused. Reflecting on his own prodigal tendencies, Reeve realises the rest of the world needs the learn the same lesson his creations taught him.

They decide to use their power and influence to educate the public on the spirit energy hidden all around them, debunking Shinra’s anti-Planetology propaganda and making the consequences of their consumerism more tangible. Every new product made is another soul severed from the cycle of life, and another step towards the Planet’s doom. To try and balance the needs of both society and the environment, they advocate for renewable resources, higher quality products that be be reused, repaired and recycled with minimal waste, more equitable distribution of resources and better appreciation for the innate value and finiteness of materials. How successful their efforts would be is up for interpretation, but I think it’d make a nice throughline for the characters’ arcs as well as the core themes of FFVII.

See how surprisingly impactful these silly little robot toys could be, if only Square Enix gave them the chance? In OG they stood out for all the wrong reasons, while in Re- project their schtick is but a drop in an ocean of zaniness, further diluting their impact on the story. Either way, they’re constantly belittled and under-utilised despite their compatibility with FFVII’s core themes and morals. As Cat 1’s monologue demonstrates, a non-human being struggling with their own personhood is one of the most profound storytelling tropes out there. Through such characters, we’re invited to contemplate existential topics, to remember how privileged we are to have evolved such a breadth of thought and emotion, gaining a better appreciation of our own lives in the process.

Square Enix itself is no stranger to this concept, with later Final Fantasy titles exploring it through characters like Zidane from IX and Tidus from X. Both of them are prime examples of how geniality and angst are not mutually exclusive - competent writers can weave these traits together, creating a nuanced, multifaceted character out of the complimentary opposites. Likewise, the Cat and moogles don’t have to forgo their lighthearted qualities in order to have depth and thematic significance to FFVII. I truly believe they could’ve been among the most compelling characters in all of Final Fantasy… if only their creators, both meta and in-universe, weren’t so prejudiced against them. Until their worth is realised, they will remain of solemn representatives of FFVII’s wasted potential.

Thank you all so much for watching. Shout out to Deltarune for inspiring me with its animistic and existential themes - if it hadn’t’ve been so fresh in my mind while writing this Retrospective, I never would’ve given Cait Sith nearly as much thought. Speaking of which, I have been recording Deltarune playthroughs with my friend Anxrali which I’m hoping to release eventually, so stay tuned for that if you’re interested. In the meantime take care, have a great day and I’ll catch yous all later. Bye!

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RETROSPECTIVE REFERENCES (in order of appearance)

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