It started as a rumor. A patch of grey on a shop sign. Then a whole building. Then a block. Now, Hazakura was a charcoal sketch of itself. People’s clothes, faces, even their eyes — drained into monotone. Only a few still remembered red.

Kaito raises the shard. The great grey eclipse trembles.

Kaito looks. Above the ruined cityscape, a single massive — the size of a stadium — pulses slowly, absorbing every wavelength of light. It is the Isshoku — the One Color. Its goal: to turn the entire world into an unchanging grey, erasing memory, emotion, and distinction.

was one of the last. His left eye still held a fleck of amber. He hid in the subway tunnels beneath the eastern ward, where the Color Eaters — slender, faceless things that moved like spilled ink — hadn't yet reached.