Gray Matter Official

The Gray Matter didn't just take color; it took the feeling associated with it. Without red, there was no rage or passion. Without yellow, no warmth or caution. The world was becoming quiet, polite, and entirely hollow.

A knock came at his door. It was Clara, a neighborhood girl who used to wear neon-green sneakers. Now, she was a monochrome ghost.

Clara gasped. The sound wasn't flat; it had a sharp, jagged edge of surprise. As she stared at the blue, a faint pink flush crept back into her cheeks. The gray around her feet began to retreat, revealing the brown of the hardwood floor.

"Keep it moving," Elias urged, his own voice cracking with rediscovered grit. "Color isn't a thing you have, Clara. It's a thing you do."