A painted world.
Trees shimmered with watercolor leaves, mountains faded into the horizon like charcoal sketches, and the air smelled like rain and old paper.
Before I could even scream, footsteps approached.
A group of strangers stood before me, dressed in strange, elegant clothing. Their eyes widened as they stared at me in silence.
Then one of them whispered:
"She has finally returned…"
Returned?
I didn't know them.
I didn't know this place.
But they slowly knelt before me, as if I were someone important… someone royal… someone legendary.
They called me:
"The Lost Color."
With trembling voices, they told me the truth.
This world was once alive with magic.
But its Creator disappeared long ago.
And without him…
The colors began to fade.
Now the skies were cracking.
Paint was peeling from the sun.
Shadows were crawling into the canvas—creatures made of darkness, erasing everything they touched.
The people here believed only one person could save their world.
A girl from the real world.
Me.