Numerology, Part 4

I don't remember anything that happened before I met David at Burger King the next morning. He was wearing a Coca-Cola t-shirt and dirty jeans, and he hadn't shaved. He looked like the David I knew years before. I hadn't change clothes, shaved, or showered since I woke up that morning. I was in a similar outfit, except my t-shirt was for Alpine.

"What the hell happened last night?" I asked him.
"The better question is what happened over the past few weeks," he replied.
"What happened, then?"
"It actually began a couple of years ago, around the time I joined the Order. 4 was never a stable fellow, from what I heard, but apparently something drove him off the deep end."
"How so?"
"He started talking about some sacred writings he had been studying, how he thought 1, 2, and 3 were interpreting them incorrectly. Something about square roots and prime numbers. Apparently, he believed that only those whose numbers were divisible could by changed for the better, whereas the prime numbers could not be changed at all. I don't know, it was something like that. I've read the same sacred writings, and there is nothing like that."
"So what about the square roots?"
"Ah, right. He misinterpreted the whole idea of perfect squares, blew it out of proportion. He got this idea that perfect squares were destined to be the salvation of the Order and would lead the Order to a perfect understanding of the universe."
"So he started killing people for what reason?"
"He thought the primes were the only thing standing in his way. After he rid the Order of the primes, he was going to change all the perfect squares to their square roots. He'd be 2², 9 would be 3², and so on. I was going to be 17², but I wanted nothing to do with it."
I was still shocked. "I figured 4 was crazy, but why did the others fall in line so willingly?"
He struggled to come up with an answer. "I don't know. 4 is a charismatic fellow, for sure, though."

We got up when our order number was called. As we walked there, he realized he should probably call the police, so he walked out of the restaurant while I took the food back to the table. When he came back, he looked relieved.
"Someone called a short while ago. They arrested 4 and a few others."
"Thank God."

He looked out the window. He didn't seem very interested in the Croissandwich sitting on the tray in front of him. I could understand why he wouldn't be hungry. He had just lost two years of his life to the Order. He needed time to process it.

"It's so hard to believe. They were such peaceful people. To think that something as trivial as square roots could cause so much violence," he said with a tear in his eye.
"It just goes to show that it's not the religion you should fear, David," I said. "It's the radicals."