Morning Rounds

Sketch Doe soared above the familiar towers of Sketch Thicket, her silver mask gleaming in the morning sunlight. The city below sparkled with its usual creative energy—humanoid deer and humans bustling between buildings made entirely of oversized pens and pencils.

She landed gracefully on the observation deck of the Central Pen Tower, her dark blue supersuit rippling in the breeze. From here, she could see the entire metropolis spread out like a vast art supply store.

"Another peaceful day," she murmured, adjusting her silver gloves.

A young deer named Doodle Dan waved from the street below, his brown fur catching the light. He clutched a handful of colored pencils, probably heading to his job at the Crayon Café.

Sketch Doe waved back, then noticed something odd. The Pencil Plaza seemed quieter than usual. Fewer people carried writing tools. She squinted, using her enhanced vision to peer closer.

Several shop windows that usually displayed rows of pens and markers appeared strangely empty.

The Empty Shelves

Sketch Doe dropped down to street level, her boots clicking against the cobblestone paths between the towering pen buildings. She walked quickly toward the Ink & Quill Emporium, one of the largest writing supply stores in the district.

The elderly shopkeeper, Mrs. Graphite, stood outside her store wringing her hands. Her gray hair was pulled back in a neat bun, and her green apron bore smudges of various ink colors.

"Oh, Sketch Doe!" Mrs. Graphite called out. "Thank goodness you're here. Something terrible has happened!"

Sketch Doe approached the distraught woman. "What's wrong, Mrs. Graphite?"

"Every single pen, pencil, marker, and crayon in my shop vanished overnight! Not stolen—vanished! Like they dissolved into thin air!" Mrs. Graphite's brown eyes were wide with panic. "And it's not just my store. Every writing tool in Sketch Thicket is gone!"

Sketch Doe felt her stomach drop. She looked around and noticed other shop owners emerging from their stores, all wearing the same expression of confusion and worry.

"How is that even possible?" Sketch Doe asked.

Before Mrs. Graphite could answer, a loud mechanical whirring sound echoed from above. Three silver drones descended from the sky, their red lights blinking ominously.