The Gallery at First Light

Canvas Metropolis never slept quietly. Even before sunrise, the city hummed — delivery drones zipping between towers, humanoid tigers jogging the riverside, a pair of goat merchants arguing cheerfully over the price of imported paint pigments.

At the very center of it all stood the Solitude Art Gallery, black as polished coal and tall as pride. Its blue windows caught the first light of morning like twelve glowing eyes.

Inside, Super Artist Woman stood before her newest painting — a swirling canvas of deep blues and electric golds — and tilted her head.

"Something's off," she muttered.

Her red cape shifted as she leaned closer. Her bright green eyes narrowed behind the blue mask.

Her phone buzzed on the utility belt. The screen flashed: *CITY ALERT — reported sighting. Solitude Gallery. Unauthorized activity.*

She straightened up slowly.

The alert said the gallery.

She was already in the gallery.

The Door That Said No

Super Artist Woman stepped outside the gallery's back exit and looked up.

A drone — one of the small city-patrol drones shaped like a silver disc — hovered right in front of her face.

"IDENTITY UNCONFIRMED," it announced in a flat, robotic voice. "SOLITUDE GALLERY IS CURRENTLY OCCUPIED BY SUPER ARTIST WOMAN. STAND BY FOR SECURITY RESPONSE."

She blinked. "I *am* Super Artist Woman."

"DUPLICATE DETECTED. STAND BY."

The drone beeped twice and locked the back door behind her with a loud magnetic *clunk.*

She grabbed the handle. Locked. She tried the side entrance. Also locked. The front? A full security shutter, solid black, had rolled down from above.

Her own gallery had just locked her out.

A window above opened, and a parrot — bright green with a yellow beak, clearly someone's trained messenger bird — leaned out on a tiny perch.

"INTRUDER ALERT!" the parrot screeched cheerfully. "SUPER ARTIST WOMAN SAYS GO AWAY! INTRUDER ALERT!"

Super Artist Woman stared up at the parrot.

"She said *what?*"