"We think we know some of the things that happened t'ya, fer you to get here and become like this. D'you remember at all? Would y'like us to tell you?"
“Well, what is it that you remember about yourself? Your last memory.” He motioned toward the surroundings. “Do you recognize this world, at least?”
"...No," he replied. "I... don't want..."
"Then you don't need to," Diyem replied. There was no use in laying down reality to this creature, not now, in his own headspace where he should feel safe, if anywhere. But the memories, ultimately, will return, such is the nature of souls. It was inescapable.
They didn't have time to give it a whole history lesson on itself anyway; when Diyem glanced skyward, he was certain that they had used up half their time.
"I'm not going to tell you to do anything. I believe you've had too much control taken from you. You need to make your own decisions. A lesson many here have learned themselves..."
"I think you can be whatever you want. Like the dragon-guy said, it's up to you. You want to be somebody who hurts people this time around?
"My choice..." The wispy thing appeared to be lost just then. Perhaps, without that corruption driving him forward, he no longer had much of a will to call its own. Perhaps that aspect had withered, too.
"It's okay," Owen said. "You don't need to make any decisions right now about all that..."
He ignored Owen at first, but then seemed to recognize him. He shrank slightly. "I hurt you..."
"You aren't anymore," Owen replied, nodding.
Then, its attention drifted to Ionys, standing back there. The recognition alone made the clouds darken, but Ionys only held up a hand. "You aren't anymore, like he said." That was all he could will himself to say.
Then, to Diyem. "...You... aren't that."
Diyem seemed to understand what he meant. "My form? ...Yes. It's the form of... someone I met a long time ago. Someone who defeated me with their will, even after my victory over their world. I suppose... it was a lasting impression."
"Are you thinking about that?" Owen asked delicately.
"...I don't know what I am..." He looked at the tree. "I... don't know if I should... be anything."
He drifted toward the tree. It seemed to be withering further, and with it, that flickering haze that remained of its presence. Innately, the team knew that if that tree died, there would be no waking this creature for a long, long time. And it seemed to respond entirely to its will, which had already faded.
Tread lightly. Do not raise your voice.