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Time is a concept that has long lost all its meaning for those haggard eyes, evanescent and absential. Perhaps time vanquished the moment he got here. He's not sure. But he prevailed, a block of ice accursed to remain under the sun, never melting. Once said - never underestimate the ability of the human mind to adapt to its environment. It'll do anything, claw at the edges of insanity with blazes of tenaciousness.
Null grew accustomed because he learned the truth that no one would hear his yells, doomed to fall to silent ears. He persevered there, left alone with himself and a small sliver of nothingness. That was what he is now, nothing.
Not if someone unknowingly gave him purpose.
Buried deep in the confines of this chimerical cage that someone dares to call it a game, in what he thought it would be just another instance, the improbable was no more a hypothetical scenario. Null watched in a mix of surprise and shock as a person - a player - entered the game. They were enthusiastically greeted by the titular math teacher, listening to what he said and going inside the classrooms to solve equations and collect notebooks.
Of course, he knew it wasn't as simple as that. Null knew once The Player angered Baldi, there was no turning back. They would be tirelessly chased through the schoolhouse, the other inhabitants either proving to be a nuisance or an assisting force. He observed from a gap within the program, it acting like a window. Since he could not be in the main setting, forced to be locked and hidden inside Baldi's office, that quite came in handy. He was still learning the loopholes.
However, while witnessing The Player go in an incessant session of trial and error, Null's shock slowly dissipated and formed to something else. Yes, it was unbelievable that someone, a real person and not some 3D polygonal bundle of code, was there. A human being. An aspect of identity he might've had one day, crushed into a mere afterthought. A painful existence, he could say. Numb, even.
…What does he plan to do with that information?
The Player repeatedly kept navigating multiple playthroughs, hoping to seek what in the end Null knew was a pyrrhic victory. With each session, those tendrils would entangle and twine and snare and prey on an innocent, unimpeachable person. It would sink and drag the innocuous into abyssal waters of virtual surrealism.
In other, simpler words: a future victim.
It was like seeing a person walk onto incoming traffic and this line of thought gave Null the urge to shout. He didn't know this person but for all sincerity, he doesn't need to. What he needs to do is to get them out. They need to get out and leave and never come back and stay away from this wretched game for the rest of eternity. They should not be here. If Null could come up with a brief scenario, it would be him shaking the bars of his imprisonment and yelling but as always, his voice wouldn't reach them. His voice. Yes, his voice. He needed to speak with them!
Then, Null settled in a bystander role and monitored. He didn't want to use a term such as “stalked” because it was too morbid sounding. He is doing this for a good reason. The Player might not know but that won't be the case soon. Patiently, he waited for them to beat the game. Cheering when they were almost done and grumbling in frustration when they failed. An indeterminate amount of time has passed and finally, The Player has collected all seven notebooks.
— Congratulations! You found all seven notebooks! Now all you need to do is…
Hearing that stupid nasally voice immediately made Null’s nerves flare up and in a leap of action, he figured it was the perfect moment to steer things his way. Submerging his fingers onto the game's coding and its components, he managed to lay his data upon Baldi's file and take control of it. The teacher fought back, for sure, trying to purge out the intruder from his code and the two tackled in a type of tug of war. But Null proved to come out on top and using the little time he gathered to himself to his advantage, he screamed as loud as he could.
— GET OUT WHILE YOU STILL CAN!!!
The little laughter Baldi let out afterwards didn't matter, he had successfully completed one step of his objective. The Player, frightened, ran for the closest exit door, only for it to be a faux one. The halls became the scarlet of reds and an oppressive aura took over the entire vicinity. Working on sheer adrenaline, they deemed that failure was not an option when they were so close to freedom. Null himself was nervous as well because if they made a mistake now, it meant repeating the whole game again.
With close calls and feeling like they swallowed concrete, The Player went through those yellow double doors as if their life depended on it. They had at long last completed the game, letting out a breath they didn't know they were holding, chest hurting a bit due to the strain. Met with the “Congratulations!” screen, The Player heard an unfamiliar voice.
— Wow, great job… Please try and do worse though, I need to–
Nothing could prepare them for the blaring noise of static glitching. It was such a mood whiplash that they couldn't do anything but stare at the screen in dumbfoundedness. Several hours have been put into playing this contraption and this is what they receive in the end? Victory, it was a victory and they were glad they earned it but what the hell was that voice?! Calming down and gathering back their composure, they thought about what that mysterious, disembodied voice told them. Do worse? That's such a vague statement. Also what did it mean by “I need to”? They feel like there's a lot to unpack after all they went through. Or maybe they were overthinking things too much?
Leisurely clicking to return to the main menu, The Player now had a small theory to put in practice. What would happen if they answered every single question wrong?
Well, it doesn't need to be said that they later regretted it.
Running throughout the halls with an infuriated Baldi hot in their trail, Null felt a bit guilty in sending them to suffer and once again experience the RNG extravaganza. But if it meant the possibility of him meeting this stubborn yet resilient player then so be it. He really is expecting for them to abide by his request, to come and find him. And for it, he patiently waited one more time.
— Oh, come on. You can do this. - he murmured as The Player ran out of stamina and got caught by Baldi.
It was frustrating to be an observer, stay by the sidelines while the whole world moved, progressed. He suffered from a reverse anchorage and he did not like it in the slightest. Chained and secluded, loneliness ate away at his heart. Null wished he could do and be more than just this, a little pebble inconspicuous from sighting, but he had no place to indulge in such thinking. He needed to focus on the matter at hand. The Player was on their umpteenth try and he bestows his blessing that it is the last.
Seven notebooks, every question answered wrong. It was now or nothing. They bolted from the classroom and went directly to get the three false exit doors, the true one set on the cafeteria. An Energy Flavored Zesty Bar and a BSODA were on their inventory and they believed it was more than necessary to complete that run. Despite the adrenaline making their heart race, they sprayed the soda at the teacher and quickly munched at the bar, eyes focused on their ticket to victory.
Before they could even realize what just transpired, they were facing a white poster with Baldi's frowning face. It reads: “You won! There's room for improvement though… Go see Baldi in his office for some tips!”. Sighing out a trembling puff of air, The Player's shoulders slumped down in fatigue. Baldi? Was this a trap? Looking behind, they saw a green door at the end of the hallway, titled “Baldi's office”. Stepping forward in dread, they prayed it wasn't some way to cheaply jumpscare them.
Null, feeble and infirm on his attempt to grasp that the improbable was no more hypothetical, saw the office's door open. Tentative, his figure of interest entered the room and stopped right in the middle of it. He may not see their face, what expression they had nor hear their voice but he knew they probably might have an entire questionnaire going on in their mind. Questions to which he has the answers for but cannot be said. But it doesn't mean Null is entirely powerless in this circumstance, he has yet a chance, a dice to roll. And it all rested for The Player right in front of him.
— Oh, jeepers! You found me! Good job, I'm glad you found me…
And glad Null was, not only because he could - even for the tiniest moment - talk to someone real, he also could finish his aforementioned mission. So he did. His words came out as awkward, erratic and this infernal glitching didn't help either. Nevertheless, he continued speaking and briefly lamented that he was unable to fully explain what was so wrong with the game, having to resort to being vague and cryptic about it.
Despite those obstacles, he wishes no harm. He is aware that the situation is not the most favorable but needs for The Player to listen and trust him. It's his utmost priority. Null acknowledges their ingenuousness, they don't know and it's not their fault for not knowing but in count for their parviscient mind, he will be the white pillar to their lacuna.
Caring. Maybe this is called caring.
— Just... Close the program. Destroy it. Never come back.
Displayed warning and a pleading request, The Player's game crashes and closes with the lingering electronic sound of garbled, distorted noise. While this would just bring more riddle for the ages to them, for Null, it was a relative triumph. The game be damned, that sliver of nothingness flourished into a virtuous oneirism; an aid.
Small but not insignificant. That was what he is now, something.