If the world of forms is illusory, where does it fall? Or rather: where is it real? It is real only affect, that is, as an illusion. What, then, remains? What, in other words, remains in the ruin of the stabilizing impression of meaning and existence, the counterpart to phenomena revealed as illusion? Perhaps the transcendentalist was correct that the noumena cannot be discovered, though only because it is empty, a creation built on the foundation of a prejudice against the fact that nothing exists beyond the limit.