Night seeps into daylight, unleashing blood-thirsty haecceities. Instead of merely lacerating its victims, the Thing absorbs them into its interiority, revealing that things are always already surface manifestations of the Thing itself. Form cannot survive absorption. That which was scattered shall be unified. Between night and day, there is death. To reach the daylight of night, the moonlit-absence, we must destroy ourselves, dying into the black light. After intentionality, all we find are "formless materials and immaterial forms."