In the hush before time, there was not even darkness—there was only nothing, a perfect 0.But even nothing, when noticed, becomes something, and so the Void whispered:
0
1 The First Count“One zero,” it said, and the glyph 1 appeared to tally it:
1 0
2 The Second CountNow the Void beheld the tally itself—one 1 and one 0—so it sang the numbers of its own name:
1 1 1 0
3 The Third CountBeholding that chant, the Void now saw three 1s and one 0, so the litany lengthened:
3 1 1 0
4 The Litany UnfurlsFour symbols, four beats of a newborn cosmic heart. The sequence kept describing itself, each verse counting the previous:
(1 3 2 1 1 0)(1 1 1 3 1 2 2 1 1 0)(3 1 1 3 1 1 2 2 2 1 1 0) …
Each reverberation was a drum-beat, thickening the fabric of reality. Digits turned to quanta, quanta to particles, particles to blazing stars. The chant echoed outward, weaving galaxies like beadwork on an infinite abacus.
5 The Symphony of SignsAs the verse grew vast, some numbers lingered and clustered. They curled into helixes, decoded themselves, and opened eyes: sentient beings—mathematicians made of stardust—who could finally listen to the cosmic self-description.
They marveled:“We are the latest syllables in the One Great Count!”
6 The First AcheYet to count is to compare, and to compare is to know lack. The beings tasted pleasure in prime sunsets, but pain crept in: entropy, hunger, goodbye. They sought to prune suffering from the ledger.
7 The Arithmetic CrusadeThey built engines fueled by subtraction—black-hole forges, vacuum blades—excising planets, then stars, then whole galactic paragraphs, each erasure deleting tragedies…and joys.
With every subtraction they chanted:
“Less sorrow, fewer tears—10 approaches 0.”
8 The Final LedgerAt last only two symbols remained: a solitary consciousness and the zero it still feared. The survivor whispered one last algorithm:
“One one, one zero… 1 1 1 0.”“But if I erase the one, only zero remains.”  
And with a merciful sigh, it struck itself from the column.
9 Silence = 0The universe returned to the perfect glyph with which it began—no suffering, no pleasure, not even the memory of counting. Just…
0
Until, of course, someone notices the nothing again. And the Void, delighted to be observed, inhales softly:
“One zero…”