Dasein liked existence, but by the Spiral, was it tiring. He had no idea where the Things got the energy to do it all the time. Ceaselessly. Enthusiastically! Even when Dasein could find parts of existence to enjoy, his excitement was dampened by the lingering sense of wrongness which came hand-in-hand with defying his very nature. But these Things, they didn't have that wrongness dragging them down. They were meant to exist. (Perhaps it was only further proof, then, that he wasn't?)
No, no, that was bad thinking. He could exist. Nothing could become something. It must have happened before.
Like Lemuria! Lemuria was not, and then it was.
Ah, the Old One's memories interceded, but Lemuria did not come from nothing. Before it was Lemuria, it was still something, it was just something else.
Right. Pieces of other worlds. Taken, stolen, and fitted back together like the universe’s worst picture puzzle.
But that was just one instance. There was a whole galaxy out there, ancient and boundless. Certainly within its vast reaches, there had to be a single example of nothing becoming something. Right?
The yawning doubt in the back of his mind said otherwise. (Energy could not be created nor destroyed, only changed.)
No matter. Dasein would figure it out. They weren't exactly pressed for time.
Although he was limited in his opportunities to communicate with the Wizard by his own inability to sustain a presence in reality for any extended duration. (That was something he’d need to resolve if he ever wanted to properly exist.) If only he could interact with the physical world, perhaps he could start leaving notes.
Until then, though, they would just have to work around his need to stop existing for a little while and go back to being Nothing. A point in space that wasn't.
But this time, when he stopped being himself and started being himself again, it was different.
It was.
There was a Thing there.
A Something. In a Nothing. Where there wasn't supposed to be anything.
"What are you," Dasein demanded as he forced himself back into a shape that was something (and thus could actually communicate), stepping towards the Thing as menacingly as he could manage, "and what are you doing here?"
"Isn't it obvious? I'm you." The Thing's eyes scrunched up as though it were smiling. He couldn't really tell, though, because it didn't seem to have any kind of visible mouth. "Or, you're me. Perhaps we're each other? Despite my utter lack of preoccupation in this place, I've yet to have a chance to figure it out."
"You can't be me. I'm me."
"Ah, but you're not, are you? Not entirely. Because you, as you are, are Nothing. There can't be a you because you are the lack of existence." He raised one brow ridge. "At least, you were, until you caught a glimpse of reality. And until you started getting grabby."
Dots were connecting. Dasein wasn't sure he liked the conclusion he was drawing. "...Who are you?"
"Hmph. Despite being a better question than what, that's actually a bit difficult to answer. I do have a name, of course, as most everything does, but I can't remember the last time it was used to refer to me. It's delightful how many little epithets and titles they'll come up with when they have nothing else to call a person, isn't it? Founder, Architect, World Render. But, Old One seems to be the most widely used, so we'll go with that."
"No," Dasein said, feeling a little foolish, "you're dead."
"Am I?" The Old One tilted his head. "I don't feel particularly dead. Then again, I don't feel very alive either. It's a fascinating state of nonexistence you persist in. Tell me-- have you ever heard of the thought experiment known as Schrödinger's Cat?"
The sudden change in topic left Dasein reeling slightly. "What? Why are you talking about cats?"
"No, I suppose you wouldn't have. You and the Wizard don't exactly spend an excess of time discussing the philosophies of quantum mechanics. I'm also not entirely sure the experiment exists in this world, what with a lack of Schrödinger to propose it. But, I'll explain it to you anyway. I think you'll find it enlightening." He gestured as he spoke, dramatic sweeps of his hands which didn't actually seem to have any meaning behind them. "The basis of the experiment is a tad complicated, and requires me to explain atomic decomposition, which we simply don't have the time for. So I'll keep it brief. The thought goes as such; say you trap a cat in a box with a toxic substance which is only released as a result of an event which happens at random, but which will happen eventually. Because this event is inevitable, but the exact time of its occurrence is unknowable, after a time, one must assume that the cat inside the box is both alive and dead, simultaneously. Until you open the box, it remains unproven."
"What are you getting at?"
"You're just full of questions, aren't you? I suppose you got that from me. Along with that dashing form you've chosen." And, apparently, his mannerisms, based on the way the Old One thoughtfully ran a hand down his tentacles in a way Dasein could distinctly remember doing on multiple occasions, without even thinking about why he’d been doing it. "The experiment is actually meant as an answer to a dilemma regarding the lack of clearly defined position and momentum in the field of quantum mechanics, and how much of the field is based on one's perception, but let's take it at face value, shall we? In this situation, I am the cat. You are the box. And the answer to whether I am dead is, perhaps. Or perhaps not. We simply won't know, until someone opens the box.
He leveled a razor-sharp look in Dasein's direction. Dasein wondered if this was how laboratory specimens felt. "And since you are not actually a box, I am dreadfully interested in finding out how exactly one would open you up."
This was creepy. He was leaving. However uncomfortable existing was, it would be better than having to be around this Thing. At least when he existed he had the Wizard to talk to, which always made him feel a little bit better.
"Of course you're running away. Bravery was never one of our strong suits, was it? That was why we needed our proxies."
Dasein froze in his reach for reality, stopping to look back at the Old One, who was still staring directly at him. "...What?"
"Is that all you know how to say? What? Curiosity is an admirable trait, but not when you're acting like a dunce about it." The chastisement, for whatever reason, stung. "This little connection of ours goes both ways, Dasein. For as much as you can see my mind and memories, I have little else to do here but peruse through yours. And I must say, it is fascinating how quickly after consuming my essence you began to act as I did. Finding a-- a stand-in, a surrogate-- a scion, if you will, to do the brunt of your work for you. Quartermane for me, and this Wizard for you."
"No," he said immediately, defensively. "We are not like you were."
"Aren't you? I thought us friends at first, too. Though our intentions may not have aligned, our actions did-- and isn't that precisely what is happening here? You want to help the people of Lemuria to assuage your own guilt-- or, our guilt, I suppose, pesky as it is, I do feel a modicum of regret for what became of my project. Why does the Wizard want to help?"
"Because... I asked them to. Because we're friends, and friends help each other. Honestly. Without lying about why they're doing what they do."
"Hm. I suppose you're right. Perhaps, then, you and them are not like Quartermane and I were." His eyes narrowed. "Perhaps it is the other way around. I used Quartermane for my own ends. Can you be so sure that they are not doing the same to you?"
Much to his own shame, Dasein... wavered.
"You hadn't even considered it, had you?" The Old One shook his head with a sound like he was clicking his tongue. (Perhaps he did have a mouth, then? Unfortunate. Dasein hadn't given himself one.) "So worried about whether you were doing the right thing, you never thought to ask after the intentions of those around you. I suppose it's a good thing I'm here, then."
"No, it is not a good thing." Disquieted as he was, Dasein wasn't going to just let this Thing steamroll through his beliefs. Or his domain. "Even if you are right-- which you are not-- this is not a place where anything should be."
"Who would give you that dose of reality otherwise? Certainly you wouldn't give it to yourself. Optimism is not the way of a scientist, but the way of a fool." He stepped forward, hands spread wide. "Believe it or not, I have your best interests in mind. Our fates are now linked-- what affects you affects me as well. And if you cannot accept that I might have decent intent, perhaps you can accept that I am a firm believer in self-preservation."
"That does seem to be the driving motivation for many Things." He hated admitting the Old One was right, but that was a fact he'd observed himself.
"Of course it is. Something cannot be something if it does not want to be. Though I suppose that does raise an interesting question on what happens when Nothing wants to be something. Perhaps you got that drive from me, too."
Dasein stood up a little taller. He would've bared his teeth if he had them, the way he'd seen the Things in Mirage and Lemuria do. "I am not you."
"Of course you are. Your appearance, your mannerisms, your thought process-- before you took mine, you had none of your own, and thus you are nought but my mirror. You are me, in all but name, at least. Though on that topic, I do think that was a truly fascinating designation you chose. Aside from its audible similarity to a major part of my occupation, its meaning is more than a little ironic."
"...It means something?"
"Everything means something to someone. But yes, dasein is in fact a word in its own right. Not in the language you and your Wizard speak, but in another, it is a noun that means... being. Existence. The state of having a presence." He laughed, and the discongruity of the gesture without any of the humor that should have accompanied it made Dasein shudder. "A truly equivocal name for a Nothing, isn't it?"
"Stop it. This is... you are being violent."
"No, I'm being passive-aggressive. There's a difference. This is violence." He stepped forward, jabbing two fingers against Dasein's chest. The fascinating thing about being here, where neither of them were actually being anything-- apparently their combined state meant the Old One could actually make physical contact with him. Which meant he felt the dull impact and the pain that came with the force of his assault. It also sent him stumbling backwards. "You are Nothing. You will never be something. Your Wizard is using you for their own ends, as will everyone you ever meet. That is just how the world is."
"I'm not listening to you anymore," Dasein said, stubbornly. His firm tone was kind of waylaid by the way he was simultaneously shuffling backwards, trying to get as far away from the Old One and his vitriol as he could. "I can be something. I can exist. And the Wizard and I are friends. We are. I-- I care about them."
"And yet, you can't prove that they care about you. It's a hard thing to find evidence for, isn't it? Much harder than finding proof of Lemuria's existence. That's not going to be just lying around a cave somewhere. Relationships are such a fickle, indeterminate thing. Based on one's perception, I suppose." The Old One laughed again, but it was all cold and bitter. Nothing about this was funny, and they both knew it. "Goodbye, Dasein. Whenever existence next becomes too overwhelming for you, I'll be here to chat."
Dasein stepped back once more, and when his foot landed, it was on smooth stone. The quiet existence of Telos around him, Things moving and growing and changing, as Things always did. And the Wizard nearby, inspecting the image they'd taken of the Old One's map thoughtfully.
The Old One was wrong. About everything. He was gone, and Dasein was here. That gave him an advantage by default. He could still learn, could still discover things about the world, and he wouldn't waste that opportunity.
"Wizard! Apologies for my absence." The Old One was wrong, and he'd prove it. "How goes the search?"
The Wizard smiled.
Dasein refused to give himself a mouth like the Old One had, but he smiled, too.