Two was doing a whole bunch of nothing.
Algebralians are funny. They've got all these amazing, awe-inspiring, fantastical powers that allow them to do whatever they please, whenever they want to, without any thought or consideration as to the possible consequences. They are living deities, their lives and instincts dictated by nothing and nobody, answering to *absolutely* no one. And yet, despite all that... There were days like this. *Many* days like this. Days where they find themselves listless and motionless, unable to say or do anything, despite the whole universe being open before them. Everything was their canvas, everything was their paintbrush, and yet *nothing* was in their mind. How could that be? How can someone have everything... and *nothing*? The math just didn't add up. It was a paradox of the strangest sort. With absolutely anything and everything at their disposal, boredom and ennui should be a problem that was dealt with *long* ago. And yet, here they were, still feeling the same emotions of boredom and misery as everyone else, as if nothing had changed at all. They're going about from place to place, world to world, looking for *something* to amuse them in these trying times. Times that shouldn't really be trying in the slightest. What gives? Were they just... *existing* wrong? What was going on in their heads that made them this way? How come, despite all their incredible powers and amazing abilities, they still find a way to frown about their current situation, their current predicament?
Well, perhaps that *was* the problem. Everything, *everything* was handed to them on a silver platter; all the algebralians had to do was imagine something, perhaps say a few words or wave a few arms, and it'll appear right before their eyes. Anything and everything they could possibly imagine, they could possibly desire, they could possibly *dream* of, all of that was just a snap away from manifesting and entertaining them for the rest of their possibly-infinite lives. At a glance, that seemed to destroy the whole idea then and there; all they had to do was just summon something to make them laugh, make them smile, and that would be that. And yet, that was *not* the case. In the infinite vastness and openness of the universe, they *still* managed to find a way to make themselves unhappy. How come?
Well, as much as their skills and powers can give them a *ton* of things, there were still limits. If they wanted to, say, as a *complete* hypothetical, create an entire building out of a small structure, or turn that star over there into an extension of themselves, that can be arranged. Those ideas, those concepts, those are quantifiable. One might not know the specifics of how it'll work out, all the minute details and mechanics that go into making the magic happen, but they can, at the very least, visualize a vague concept in their mind from which all other things can arise. Their capabilities somehow fill in all the gaps themselves, without having to think about it for any more than a single moment, than the 2.763 seconds it takes (on average) for something to happen on their command.
But making someone happy, keeping someone entertained, that's a taller order. The end goal is very much visible, sure. The job isn't done until the mouths on the algebralians' faces have their ends higher up than the midpoints. But how do you go about *achieving* that? How do you create entertainment? How do you create joy? Those sorts of things, they're intangible. When one thinks about it, when one tries to visualize it in their brain, or whatever it is rattling around in their head that serves that same purpose, all that arises is some dense, thick, proverbial fog. You can't pin a shape, or a size, or a color, or *anything* on these things. And yet, they have very clear traits. When something is entertaining, it makes you smile. But that's pretty much the *only* characteristic you can pin down. What it looks like, how it behaves, that's a mystery that doesn't seem like it wants to resolve itself. Not even someone with all the crazy capabilities of those sentient numerals seem to have a grasp on it, despite... *that*.
One *could* try to work on a more solid definition. There are many, many, *many* things that can make one laugh, but this hypothetical object being spontaneously manifested into existence doesn't have to be similar to *all* of them, does it? It can share attributes with just one of these things, and it'll serve its purpose just fine. Why not focus on that *one* thing, really get a feel for what it is and how it works, and try to make that appear out of thin air? The algebralians have already tried that. Of course they have. They recalled *something* that made them feel a spark of joy in their miserable little lives, *really* focused on all the qualities and attributes that made it so great, and focused solely on those as they snapped a simulacrum of it into existence. And it *worked*.
