(these characters dont even have a personality)
An algebralian walked up to the hotel kitchen, and they said to the number, running the kitchen: "Hey!" Dun, dun, dun. "Got any food?"
Four immediately stared at One and gave them a judgmental look. "Absolutely not!" They'd shout. "I can guarantee that you will find absolutely *no* sources of nourishment here, and even if there was, they are *definitely* not for you and your greedy clutches! Any food that may or may not exist will only be for the hotel guests! And you are *DEFINITELY* not one of them!" They'd develop an even more intense stare, bordering on unrestricted, unjustified. "Now, do me a favor and just leave!"
The living numeral most commonly attributed to feelings of loneliness and solitude would do no such thing; they'd remain standing there for the longest time, unmoving, unfeeling, unthinking. They quite preferred it that way, really. The algebralians have always been a distant, massive, overarching presence that strikes fear and terror into the minds and hearts of the hapless living objects of the planet Earth. The only thing they knew how to do was enact suffering and misery to anyone that even *thinks* about looking at them the wrong way. Four, Two, and that little one too had it all wrong; in absolutely *no* way should they go down to the surface, mingle with the objects, start competitions, develop an emotional bond with their contestants, and end up no better than the ones that may or may not have literally sprung up from the dirt. That would render them completely and utterly useless. Helpless. Exactly the opposite of what they should be. They're *numbers*, for crying out loud. The fundamental backbone of the universe and existence, regardless of how everyone else sees it.
And so on, and so forth.
One blinked, then promptly started leaning towards Four, becoming too close for comfort. "Don't think I see through your lies." They'd remark. The blue (well, *more* blue) one continued looking into their soulless eyes for a moment longer, then blinked as well, losing the impromptu staring contest. "I think you said that wrong." They'd comment. "I KNEW IT!" The other one triumphantly declared. "I knew you were hiding something. Always have. I've been watching. I've been looking. I know what you've been getting up to." "Okay." The child with *far* too much power tried their hardest to remain calm. "And? So what?" "So *what*?" The other one asked. "Look at you! Acting so small and pathetic! Here you are, caring about *them* as if their opinion matters!" They'd point out the window with their foot. "Meanwhile, I've been having a *great* time! Just yesterday, I killed 2,763 people, and-"
"Stop this!" Four shouted, their patience already wearing thin. "This is *exactly* why we decided to pretend like you just didn't exist! You're too weird, even for us!" "Well, maybe *you're* the ones that are too weird." One remarked. "Ever think about that? I'm not the one that ended up fixating *too* much on that dumb show. I'm not the one that went down here looking to emulate their heroes. I'm not the one that's grown attached to these... these..." They just couldn't quite find the right word to describe their irrelevance to the greater workings of the cosmos. Insignificant? Miniscule? Needle-like?
"Enough! There is no food for you here!" The one that hosted a massive waste of time shouted again. "Now get out!" "Yeah!" X suddenly chimed in, just for no reason. "Get out!"
As all-powerful as an algebralian is, there is still *one* thing that can beat them in terms of power: *two* algebralians.
-
An algebralian walked up to the competition for The Power of Two, and they said to the number, running the competition: "Hey!" Dun, dun, dun. "Got any help?"
"Oh. Uh. It's you." The green one tried their hardest to look away. "Look, uh, I've got a *lot* of nothing to get to, so if you could just-" "Nothing, huh?" One remarked. "That explains a lot; these contestants of yours *are* nothing, and yet you focus so much on their lives as if they're actually *worth* anything!" "This again?" Two rolled their eyes. "Again, I only came down here *because* of Four; they went out here looking for trouble, and I wanted to look out for them." "Sure, keep telling yourself that." The other one replied. "Doesn't hide the fact that you're becoming just like them, too. Giving away your power just for kicks? Hosting a fair show? Feeling sympathy for your contestants? Enough to do things you're *not* supposed to?"
