Morning Patrol

Ursa Marker stretched her arms as morning sunlight streamed through the tall windows of Marker Tower. The city of Artlantis sprawled below, its colorful buildings gleaming like scattered jewels. She adjusted her silver mask and smoothed down her blue and black supersuit.

"Another peaceful day," she said, stepping onto the tower's observation deck. Her silver cape fluttered in the gentle breeze as she gazed at the bustling streets below. Humans and humanoid animals hurried to work, their voices creating a cheerful hum.

She summoned her giant magic marker, its surface glowing softly in her paw. The familiar weight always made her feel ready for anything. A flock of rainbow-winged butterflies danced past the tower, their colors shimmering in the sunlight.

"Time for morning patrol," Ursa announced to herself. She loved these quiet moments before the day truly began. The city looked perfect from up here—every shade vibrant and alive.

But something felt different today. A strange emptiness lingered in the air, though she couldn't quite place what was wrong.

The Gray Market

Ursa Marker leaped from the tower and soared over the city streets. Her silver cape rippled as she descended toward the market district, where colorful banners usually fluttered between buildings.

But something was terribly wrong.

The red fruit stand had turned completely gray. The vendor, a koala in a green apron, stared at his once-bright apples in confusion.

"My strawberries were red this morning," he said, holding up a colorless berry. "Now they look like ash."

Ursa landed beside him, her marker glowing brighter. "When did this happen?"

"Just minutes ago. A strange shadow passed overhead, and the color drained right out of everything it touched."

She looked around. Gray patches spread across the marketplace like spilled paint in reverse. A woman with short brown hair pointed at her flower cart. "My roses, my sunflowers—all gray!"

"Which direction did the shadow go?" Ursa asked.

The koala pointed toward the music festival grounds. "That way. It moved fast, like a storm cloud, but darker."

Ursa's bright blue eyes narrowed behind her mask. Someone was stealing color itself from Artlantis.