Morning Routine

Pen Doe stretched her arms above her antlers as sunlight streamed through the tall windows of Pen Castle. The blue-suited superhero had always loved mornings in Draw Metropolis. From her tower room, she could see the entire city spread out below—colorful buildings where humans and deer-folk lived side by side, creating art and stories together.

She grabbed her giant magic pen from its stand beside her bed. The golden weapon hummed softly in her gloved hands, responding to her creative energy. Today felt different somehow, though she couldn't quite place why.

"Good morning, Pen Castle," she said to the empty room, practicing her superhero voice.

Walking to her window, she noticed something odd. The streets below looked unusually quiet. Normally, the morning rush included children heading to art school with their backpacks full of supplies. Today, she could barely make out any movement at all.

Pen Doe frowned, her brown eyes scanning the city more carefully. Something was definitely wrong in Draw Metropolis.

The Empty Shelves

Pen Doe decided she needed a closer look at the strange quiet below. She leaped from her tower window, her blue cape fluttering as she soared over Draw Metropolis.

Landing on Main Street, she discovered something shocking. Every art supply store had its doors wide open, but the shelves stood completely empty. No pencils, markers, or crayons anywhere.

"Excuse me!" she called to a woman with short black hair rushing past. The woman wore paint-splattered overalls and looked frantic.

"My name is Clara Jenkins," the woman said, stopping abruptly. "I'm a shoemaker, but I also paint on weekends. Every single pencil in the city has vanished! Even my sketching pencils for designing shoe patterns are gone."

Pen Doe's brown eyes widened. "All the pencils? When did this happen?"

"Sometime during the night. People are panicking because they can't draw, write, or create anything. The children can't do their homework. Artists can't work. Even the grocery stores can't write shopping lists!"

A small koala wearing a tiny red hat waddled up to them, tears streaming down his fuzzy face.

"My coloring books are useless now," he whimpered.