The (Not So) Wonderful World Of What-ifs!

But We Weren't Done Playing Checkers!

Eleven laughed as Twenty-two fell over and missed the ball.

"Goal!" She walked over to him, "That makes us even, wanna go one more time and call it a day?"

Her bright smile faltered when she saw him struggling to stand, "Are you okay?"

As a football team leader, Eleven had the tendency to always worry about the others she plays with, making sure that they're in peak condition and they don't strain too hard.

Fortunately for Twenty-two, this habit carried over to her personal life, especially for those close to her.

Twenty-two definitely counted as close, after all, he was the only other numberblock who enjoyed football to the same extent, maybe more.

She was never lonely when she played with him, as he's always working on a new trick or move to use in order to score easier.

Eleven would hate it if anything happened to him.

Twenty-two waved off her hand, standing up straight and brushing off his socks.

"Nah, I'm good. We can go again, let's not hold back this time, eh?"

Eleven was taken aback, "You sure? I thought this was a friendly match."

Twenty-two winced, a sharp pain spiking through his side. He really wasn't feeling his best right now, he felt really tired. Staying awake was a miracle on its own, let alone even scoring an equal amount in the game.

He had a weird vision last night too. He was walking in a field, having the time of his life, until an eerie screech sounded.

His friends all ran away, ducking into any corners available and trying to look as small as possible.

The What-ifer turned the corner, floating mysteriously in front of One.

"What-if.." The rest came out inaudiable, but soon, everybody started changing,

Two straight up vanished entirely, something about a time loop of some sort.

The numbers over Twenty began to dissapear, him included, but Thirty-six remained intact, running away and leaping into some dark canyon, an echo of a pained grunt ringing through the cave walls.

Eighteen only watched in fear as his sister and best friends morphed, Twenty-four dissapearing and Fourteen and Twelve both changing. 

He had left soon after but not without taking Twenty with him, speeding away before the What-ifer could do much.

Nineteen convinced Sixteen to remove their numberlings, both of them ducking down and hoping not to be seen.

And... Eleven. 

Eleven didn't do anything.

Eleven watched as everything she loved was being ripped away, clutching her football close to her.

She whimpered and stood all alone before the glowing ball, sitting down hard and begining to cry.

"I give up.." Was all she said, "...Just go ahead.."

The What-ifer floated closer, the dreaded words filling the air.

"What if Eleven.."

 But that was all he saw before he woke up feeling terrible.

His teeth clenched.

"It was.. but I wanna go all out, y'know? Actually go at each other, like rivals."

"I dunno if that's a 'can-do'... You're.. well.. You're my best friend, I don't think I could see you like that-"

"Please?" He pleaded, "Just once, can we act like this is our turf and we wanna defend it? I don't want a spar, I want a battle. Let's bring out everything we got, sound cool?"