Morning Calls

Crayon Paintbrush Doe stood at the observation deck of her fortress, scanning Canvas City through the morning mist. The twin crayon towers gleamed silver beside the paintbrush spires, casting long shadows over the bustling streets below. Humanoid deer and humans hurried to work, their voices mixing in the familiar symphony of city life.

"Another peaceful morning," she murmured, adjusting her red mask.

Her phone buzzed against her yellow glove. The caller ID showed Mayor Brushstroke's office.

"Crayon here," she answered.

"We need you at the Gallery District immediately," came the mayor's urgent voice. "Something terrible has happened at the Canvas City Art Gallery."

She could hear sirens wailing in the background, growing louder through the phone.

"What kind of emergency?" Crayon asked, already moving toward the launch platform.

"The Masterpiece Wing is completely empty. Every single painting vanished overnight. No alarms, no broken glass, nothing. It's like they just... disappeared."

Crayon's grip tightened on the phone. Her X-ray vision couldn't help solve mysteries from miles away, but her detective instincts were already stirring.

"I'll be there in five minutes."

The Empty Walls

Crayon Paintbrush Doe soared through the crisp morning air, her orange cape streaming behind her. Below, Canvas City's buildings blurred into colorful patches as she approached the Gallery District.

She landed softly outside the Canvas City Art Gallery, where police cars lined the street. Detective Maple Brushwood, a middle-aged human woman with short auburn hair and determined brown eyes, stood near the entrance. She wore a tan trench coat over her dark blue uniform.

"Crayon! Thank goodness you're here," Detective Brushwood called out, hurrying over. "This is the strangest case I've ever seen."

"What exactly happened?" Crayon asked, adjusting her yellow gloves.

"Follow me inside. You won't believe it until you see it yourself."

They walked through the gallery's marble halls. Crayon's deer ears twitched at the unusual silence. When they reached the Masterpiece Wing, she gasped.

The walls were completely bare. Not just empty—they looked freshly painted white, as if the paintings had never existed at all.

"The security footage shows nothing," Detective Brushwood said grimly. "But here's the really weird part."

She pulled out her phone and showed Crayon a photograph.

"This morning, every missing painting appeared on social media. Someone's selling them online."