“Eddy, look!” shouted Anna, pointing at the sky. “It’s… gray!”
Eddy squinted up from his breakfast toast and blinked in surprise. The sky was indeed a dull shade of misty gray—not stormy or cloudy, just… empty.
Then they heard Lily X scream from outside. “My flowers! They’re all white!”
The two friends rushed out into the garden, where Lily N was staring at her once-bright rainbow tulips, now bleached pale like ghosts. Even the grass looked washed out, as if someone had forgotten to color it in.
Bell came running down the street with Emma close behind. “Everything’s gone!” Bell cried. “The trees, the birds, even my red boots are gray!”
Soon, all the kids were gathered in the middle of town, whispering nervously. No one knew what had happened—but everyone agreed: the colors had vanished.
Hyuga, usually quiet and thoughtful, stepped forward. “Maybe it’s not gone,” he said. “Maybe it’s hiding.”
“Hiding?” asked Alexis doubtfully. “How do you hide something as big as color ?”
Pythagoras—or “Pye” for short—adjusted his glasses. “There might be a reason. Maybe we did something wrong.”
Anna shook her head. “No, this doesn’t feel like punishment. It feels… lonely.”
And she was right. Without color, everything felt flat. Laughter sounded quieter. Smiles seemed dimmer.
Lily X pulled out her sketchbook. “Let’s find it,” she said. “Let’s go looking for color.”
So off they went—seven curious kids on a quest to bring back the world’s missing hues.
They followed the faded trail through Whispering Woods, where the leaves no longer rustled with joy but hung silently like forgotten dreams. Birds chirped without cheer. Even the sun seemed tired.
As they walked, they noticed strange things: footprints that glowed faintly, a soft hum beneath their feet, and a single blue feather floating in midair.
“I think the color is alive,” whispered Eddy.
Suddenly, they reached the edge of a shimmering pool hidden deep in the forest. At its center stood a small stone pedestal, and on it sat a tiny box made of crystal.
“It’s calling us,” said Hyuga.
Emma hesitated. “What if opening it makes everything worse?”
“No,” said Lily N softly. “I think it wants to be found.”
With trembling fingers, Lily X opened the box.
A burst of light exploded outward, swirling and spinning like a firework. The kids shielded their eyes—and when they looked again, the world had changed.
The trees wore emerald canopies again. Flowers bloomed in wild patterns of pink, purple, and gold. The sky blushed with morning orange and baby blue.
But more than that, the air felt full of life again. Joy returned. So did wonder.
“What was inside?” asked Bell.
“Hope,” said Lily X.
Back in town, everything was restored. Kids laughed louder, parents smiled wider, and even the clouds danced across the sky in cotton-candy pinks and blues.
From that day on, the children remembered the lesson: color wasn’t just what they saw—it was how they felt. And as long as they stayed curious, brave, and kind, the world would always shine bright.
