Morning at the Fortress

Ms Crayon Shark stretched her blue arms as morning sunlight streamed through the crystal windows of her Crayon Fortress. The giant crayons that formed her home glowed softly in rainbow colors.

"Another peaceful day in Canvas Zoo City," she said, polishing her magic blue crayon.

She stepped onto her balcony and looked out over the bustling city below. Humanoid animals walked alongside humans on the colorful streets. Artists painted murals on building walls while couples shared breakfast at sidewalk cafes.

Ms Crayon Shark smiled. Her enhanced vision let her see all the way to the harbor, where boats bobbed in the sparkling water. Everything looked perfectly normal.

But as she turned to go inside, something caught her eye. In the distance, near the old warehouse district, a thin gray line seemed to be creeping along one building's wall. She blinked, thinking it was just a shadow.

The gray line had vanished.

The Gray Creeps In

Ms Crayon Shark flew down from her fortress toward the old warehouse district. Her blue hair streamed behind her as she landed near the building where she'd spotted the strange gray line.

"Maybe I imagined it," she said, examining the colorful brick wall.

A cheerful whistle echoed from around the corner. Ms Crayon Shark followed the sound and found an elderly woman sitting on a fire escape, painting watercolor portraits of passersby. The woman had silver hair tied in a neat bun and wore a paint-splattered apron over her purple dress.

"Beautiful morning for art, isn't it?" the woman called down. "I'm Grandma Palette. Been painting here for forty years."

Ms Crayon Shark smiled and waved. But as she watched, something terrible happened. The bright red paint on Grandma Palette's brush turned gray. Then her yellow paint. Her blue paint followed.

"What in the world?" Grandma Palette gasped, staring at her palette.

The gray spread quickly. Grandma Palette's purple dress faded to dull gray. Her rosy cheeks turned ashen. Even the fire escape's red metal lost its color.

"Help me!" Grandma Palette cried, her voice weak and sad.