"What do you think the soul is?"

That was the first thing I heard when I first perceived this world.

My initial reaction was to reply with.

'I prefer not to discuss such matters.'

But the next thing I saw made me freeze in fear and deep confusion.

'I am in a bottle?'

Indeed, I was surrounded by glass walls. The delicate round curves above me that led to a wide circular mouth covered tightly with a wooden cork sent me into a mild panic.

Before I could register my confusion and process the subsequent chaotic thoughts, a large face appeared in my vision.

"What do you think the soul is?"

The slow but soothing voice repeated.

The face was that of an old man who looked well into his years. There was a decently long beard on his face and his head was covered in short curly hair that was a silvery grey just like his beard.

Looking into his warm brown eyes, I felt myself unable to ignore him so I thought for a moment before answering.

"I think the soul should be a unique and intangible force that wields the power of life. But these things are all hypotheses. We can't even see the soul so it is impossible for us to experiment and draw conclusions."

I subtly argued.

A bright smile appeared on the old man's face and then he pulled back. I could now see his elegant clothing consisting of long black trousers, a dark blue long-sleeved shirt, and a black buttoned vest.

"What you say makes sense." The old man drawled.

"Which would then take me to my next question. What is 'life'?"

I watched as the old man walk towards a metal table by the side.

We were in a brightly lit room surrounded by a few tables that were covered with various types of equipment I couldn't recognize.

Apart from the instruments and machinery, there was the occasional open book or pile of papers lying around haphazardly and then, a particular object that gave me an ominous vibe.

This object sat like an open briefcase. Inside it was a machine-like contraption that was covered in what I could only guess to be inscriptions of some sort.

The object was faintly exuding a weird dark aura and sparks of electricity flashed out from it occasionally.

The object succeeded in stealing my attention for a moment, making me feel like I was drowning in a deep quagmire with no control over my consciousness.

For a split second, I thought I saw what was a starry night sky that had a massive crack running through it like fractured glass.

And amid that crack, a giant pupil-less eye stared back at me with ominous intentions.

SNAP!

The old man seemed to have realized what was happening and he moved towards the object, shutting it close.

Snapping back to reality, I answered his previous question.

"Life? Life is living! With the basis of important factors like the ability to breathe, feed and procreate. It is having consciousness and a self-identity."

I was sure of my words.

"HAHAHA!"

The old man laughed heartily.

"By your definition, you mean that little flower over there can be considered to be without life?"

The old man was looking through some papers and he pointed casually at a flower pot that was sitting on a relatively clean table.

The flower was a bright blue with four soft petals.

"Well, no…. it's not like that."

Realizing my blunder, I hesitated.

"The flower has no consciousness, nor any means of self-identity. It can be said to be operating purely on instincts to survive isn't it?"

The old man added with an amused tone.

To my shame, I decided to bring up an argument.

"Who are we to say that the flower has no consciousness or self-identity? Just because we have no ways to communicate with them doesn't mean much."

I argued heatedly.

"For all we know their patterns of living and ways of communication are probably things we have never seen or experienced before. Deciding they are not conscious is just us defending our ignorance!"

BANG! RUMBLE!

Just as I finished speaking, a loud explosion rand out, and the room we were in shook fiercely.

A frown appeared on the old man's face.

He walked towards a section of the wall and tapped it with a finger.

Suddenly, numerous symbols and diagrams appeared from that point and quickly covered the whole wall.

They glowed slightly and looked like runic inscriptions from an ancient civilization.

"What you say does make some sort of sense."

The old man had a thoughtful look as he continued tapping methodically on the runes.

"The absence of evidence cannot be considered the evidence of absence. Maybe one day, we will create a means to be able to communicate with plant life and have a way to diagnose their conscious behavior."

Seeing the old man easily acquiesce to my guilty argument, I suddenly felt bad as I also didn't believe that myself.

"But it may also be that self-identity and consciousness are not necessary for life. Maybe my definition is flawed?"

I added cautiously this time.

The sounds of explosions kept on ringing from the outside and the old man seemed to ignore it this time around as he finished tapping on the walls with a nonchalant expression.

But I could tell there was now an urgency to his steps as he moved around picking up one piece of paper, book, or the other.

"The definition of life and the purpose of its existence is a question that will persist as long as beings of consciousness exist."

I watched as the old man gathered these few things and put them beside the closed briefcase. He looked up at me as he continued.

"But it is like you said, we are limited by our inherent abilities. A sensory parameter we can't imagine, maybe another dimension of being? The wall blocking us is the fact that we have no idea what it is we are lacking."

He seemed to hesitate for a second before moving with slow but firm steps towards another messy table where he picked up a book bound in thick white leather.

"What do we need to obtain to achieve the next level of intelligence, knowledge, and ultimately...control!"

I could see what I could only guess to be a flash of obsession go through his eyes as he said the last part.

Trying to involve myself in the conversation again, I decided to pique in.

"Matters like these are related to what can loosely be called ascending the life hierarchy. But that is extremely difficult as we are at the top of the food chain. Even if we are eager to want to evolve and ascend, there are no life forms out there for us to take notes from. Animals and plants have their different specialties but we have already explored the most of their abilities and have different equipment that allows us to utilize them, they are all nothing special."

The old man turned and looked at me with a thoughtful look in his eyes. He then sighed and shook his head.

"No matter what it is, they really are nothing special. This is the dilemma of those at the top. Unless you can find something better than you to strive towards, you will stagnate and would never progress again."

"Unless we can discover another lifeform."

I chuckled out loud.

"Who knows, maybe there are actually aliens out there with much better technological advancement than ours."

I don't believe in aliens.

The man's wrinkles smoothened as his face seemed to light up.

"Yes, unless there is."

He said mysteriously before heading for the box again.

He tapped on some parts of the box a few times but I couldn't really see what he was doing from my point of view. He then proceeded to open up the box again and I suddenly grew restless.

I couldn't explain what I had seen the other time and I was eager to view the machine with the weird inscriptions and sparks of electricity again.

But as he opened the briefcase this time, what I saw shocked me stupid.

'It's empty!?'

I stared as the old man picked up one thing after the other and put it inside the empty briefcase.

What type of sorcery was this exactly?

After putting in all the other things, the old man picked up the white leather book and stared at it one last time before putting it at the top of the pile and closing the lid shut.

BOOM!

The explosions outside suddenly stopped which startled me. I had almost gotten used to hearing the loud incessant sounds and the following quiet was very peaceful, but it was only for a while.

"YOU DAMN BASTARD! ARE YOU REALLY PLANNING TO HIDE IN THERE LIKE A COWARD ALL ALONG! I KNOW YOU ARE IN THERE! BETTER COME OUT NOW AND FACE ME! AT LEAST TRY TO DIE LIKE A MAN!"

A loud voice suddenly came from outside. I could tell the owner of the voice was very angry but the old man just chuckled when he heard the challenge, his deep voice sounding like a slumbering storm.

"That fellow was always so hot-headed. I hope he changes someday."

The old man casually picked up the briefcase and walked toward me.

As he passed an overly messy table, he picked up a long black trench coat that I hadn't noticed before and put it on which completed his dressing somewhat.

He then looked at me with a deep fascination in his eyes before picking up the bottle that was my home.

"Are we going somewhere?"

I asked him.

"Hmm… just a short trip."

He replied before glancing upwards and taking a deep breath.

WHOOSH!

The symbols and diagrams covering the walls vanished and the metal-like ceiling of the room opened allowing a torrent of rocks and dirt to suddenly rain down.

"Ehn?..."

BOOM!

Before I could speak, I heard a loud explosion as the old man suddenly flew straight out, blasting through the earth and leaving me startled.

'What is this? What is this!? Magic? I don't understand!'

My head was filled with questions as we swam through the earth.

I could feel the soil and rocks brush past my bottle enclosure but none of them made contact.

SPLAT! BOOM!

A bright orange sky, that was the first thing I saw after we burst through the soil.

The wide canvas was painted in streaks of pink, red, and orange which laid a contrasting backdrop to the dark mountain range that was around me. Splashes of the faraway sun's rays trying to desperately seep into the dark world of shadows cast by the numerous mountain peaks that surrounded us.

"Found you."

A soft chilly voice called out.