The Morning Watch

Lightning Crayon Doe stretched her arms above her head as she stepped out onto the observation deck of Lightning Crayon Dome. The morning sun cast long shadows across Canvas Forest City, painting the colorful neighborhoods in golden light.

"Another peaceful day," she murmured, adjusting her yellow mask. Her lightning crayon glowed softly in her gloved hand as she scanned the city below.

The four crayon towers around the dome hummed quietly with energy. From up here, she could see the Art Supply District's rainbow-colored buildings, the Sketch Quarter's pencil-shaped apartments, and the Paint Borough's houses that seemed to shimmer in different hues.

Her phone buzzed with the morning news alert. She glanced at the screen, expecting the usual reports about city council meetings or weather updates.

Instead, her big expressive eyes widened. The headline read: "Strange Reports from Paint Borough: Residents Claim Art Supplies Vanishing Overnight."

Lightning Crayon Doe's grip tightened on her crayon. She lowered her phone, staring out at Paint Borough's distant buildings. Something felt different about this morning after all.

The Messenger's Flight

Lightning Crayon Doe pressed her phone closer to her ear as she dialed the Paint Borough Emergency Line. The dial tone rang once, twice, then clicked to voicemail.

"All operators are currently busy. Please leave a message after the beep."

She frowned and tucked the phone into her belt. Something about vanishing art supplies didn't sit right with her. Her lightning crayon pulsed brighter as she lifted off from the observation deck, soaring toward Paint Borough.

The flight took only minutes, but as she descended toward the shimmer-hued houses, she noticed something strange. A small hummingbird zipped frantically between the buildings, its emerald feathers catching the morning light.

"Wait," Lightning Crayon Doe called out, hovering in mid-air. "Are you trying to tell me something?"

The hummingbird chirped urgently and darted toward a house painted in swirling purples and blues. Lightning Crayon Doe followed, landing softly on the front lawn.

Through the window, she could see empty easels and bare shelves where art supplies should have been. The hummingbird tapped its tiny beak against the glass three times, then flew to the next house.

Every window revealed the same sight: completely empty art rooms.