Gray World

"… Do not let yourself fade into gray…"

For some inexplicable reason, a certain individual suddenly found themselves recalling the warning which had been with them since birth as they gazed upon a blank and unfamiliar gray world. The individual had a multitude of questions to ask, but found their entire attention yanked and pulled away by some inexplicable force.

They quickly noticed their apparent lack of a physical form, realizing that their consciousness had been stitched and made to fuse into the entire space, somewhat akin to an external observer of some sorts.

A sense of hyper-fixation suddenly took root within their mind, causing the individual to lose any form of interest they had previously shown for the unanswered questions. They had one singular desire, and that was to see... see and observe the events that would take place within the peculiar world they had found themselves.

Slowly their vision drifts over to a particular corner within this space, where the sitting image of a child hugging their knees could be seen. The child stuck out in the blank space like a sore thumb, their very image creating a vast contrast to the seemingly unique environment.

'Why would a child be here all alone… Isn't this irresponsible parenting? This place doesn't look fit for a child at all.'

The child looked to be alive, as was evident from the rhythmic pulsations from their chest. The observer felt like it didn't make sense and clashed with basic scientific principles, as in this silently blank space, the sound of breathing couldn't be heard—the child wasn't breathing at all!

'Can this peculiar environment block out sound waves? Or perhaps the child is a humonculus...'

The observer didn't have the time to go over this peculiar detail, as the child in question appeared to suddenly be blanketed by a jet-black substance. The substance was similar in composition to glossy black ink, flowing from the child's figure onto the gray backdrop and obscuring their physical features in the process.

In fact the observing individual felt like the latter part might be an important function of the substance, possibly even being a major role.

'This child can breathe while being totally submerged like that? It's definitely an humonculus, or at least something similar! There is also a chance for it to be a malevolent spirit or ghost that's trapped and can't escape. Such an unlucky fate that would be.'

'Come to think of it, isn't this experience a couple years late? I've lost the enthusiasm I previously had for supernatural events. Where was this mysterious space when I was eight years younger?'

The individual was then pulled away from their inner musings, turning their attention back to the child as they noticed the child's head jerk upward abruptly, turning and looking around their surroundings in confusion.

The vast array of expressive actions made the observer once again doubt their assumption of the child being a humonculus, since the movements of its joints seemed to be as rigid as those of a regular person, at least in their opinion.

The sudden showcase of life-like activities sparked a reaction in the vast, gray space, further causing a foggy haze of interlocking shades of black and white settling over the environment, swirling around the child with vibrant enthusiasm.

The child didn't seem to notice the abnormal changes happening around them as they continued to look around, all the while still sitting down and hugging their knees. The sight caused the spectating individual to feel an avid sense of nostalgia—an image of a little girl crying in a plain of grass, with a small cut on her knee drifting into their mind. The observer inevitably had to reign in their concentration, noticing yet another abrupt change which looked to be happening to the child!

The child appeared to suddenly radiate bright and warm emotions, totally stunning the silent spectator and leaving them wondering the reason for the sudden delight. The black and glossy ink slowly took on an ethereal shade of green and sunset yellow hues which were flowing from the child onto the floor with energetic enthusiasm that it seemed to lack before.

The child abruptly stood up, jumping around in excitement while radiating a gentle essence of life and joy. The green and yellow haze totally enveloped the entire area, causing various flowers and plants to spurt out from the grounds, creating an air of freshness and warmth. The plants continued to grow and interlock into each other, creating a beautiful forest grove which formed right before the observer's eyes.

'It seems like the child's emotions directly affect the state of this space. That makes me wonder, who—or should I say what, is this child?

'This place seems so vast… vast enough for even a god or some other higher beings to claim as their own, without question or doubt. Wait… could this child… be a deity itself?'

While the observer struggled to get out of the severity of their own extreme notions, the child continued to jump around and play in the grove without a care in the world. Small animals and wildlife slowly emerging from the depths of the grove, further adding an air of vibrancy and nature surrounding the entire scene.

The observer also slowly came to realize that the earlier peculiarity with the sound came from the child and not the environment, as the chirping of birds and the swaying of leaves softly drifted through the air.

Suddenly, the child, while playing in a bed of flowers at the easternmost part of the grove, unknowingly pricked their finger on a protruding stalk, causing them to jerk back in pain. A drop of crimson-colored blood dripped onto the flower bed, instantly decaying it and plunging the surrounding area into a pale storm of death.

The death storm slowly grew and grew, until it became a full blown raging tempest, capable of sweeping anything within its path.

The sudden presence of the storm utterly stunned the observer, as they failed to understand why such a drop of blood would create such an intense reaction.

'A single drop of blood is capable of causing this level of corruption? Whatever this child is, it is definitely, in some way, a higher level being'

The presence of the pale storm instantly tainted the peaceful environment, it's dejected aura slowly corroding everything it touched, similar in nature to an infectious plague.

The previously thriving scene of nature was plunged into chaos, the image of wilting flowers, dying livestock and a looming shadow of death instantly overtaking the entire plane. The grove was dying, and it was dying fast!

The child stood rooted to a spot, seemingly shocked and pained at the sight of the decaying grove. Their body language conveyed a vast array of shifting emotions—regret, sadness, fear, and apprehension—all these were what the observer could feel while looking at the child at this very moment.

A dark hue slowly started to spread across the child's bright silhouette, the child visibly unconcerned with the changes happening to their form as they continued to look around the grove in regret.

The observer felt the helplessness of being nothing more than a spectator at this point, as they had to watch the slow and steady encroachment of death on the grove with no way of helping. It looked similar to how they would describe the end of the world ; a raging tempest of death slowly overshadowing the vibrancy of life.

As the child kept looking on with guilt, something in the distance seemed to catch the attention of both the child and the observer: a singular white lily slowly and peacefully swaying in the wind. The Lily looked as pristine as it always had been, with its petals still exuding a touch of innocent beauty even after being tainted by the pale aura of death.

This drew the attention and curiosity of the child, with the observer mainly being shocked at the fact that the flower was still alive.

'To my knowledge, white lilies are regular flowers that aren't supposed to be able to weather this type of supernatural storm for so long. Does that flower represent something else?'

The observer then looked onto the child, curious about what their next course of action would be. For some weird reason, the child didn't attempt to save the flower and instead, acted like an onlooker, making the observer look on with intrigue and confusion. The flower kept fighting and withstanding the dull hues of death but succumbed after a particular period of time, its dying petals fluttering in the wind.

The actions of this lone flower seemed to light a flame within the heart of the peculiar child, as the observer watched them calmly walk into the epicenter of the grove, paying no heed to the rushing gale that threatened to overwhelm them.

The child walked in a rhythmic pattern, the coat-like substance adorning their figure slowly to returning back to its previous inky-black essence, acting as a ward for the pale storm of death. The storm continued to overwhelm everything within its wake, with the child calmly maintaining their walking pattern while gently touching the passing flowers.

The child then calmly assumed a sitting posture at the grove's epicenter, a thin black dividing line spreading out from the inky black substance adorning their figure as it slowly extended into the distance and created a central line in the middle of this space.

The child appeared to become the grove's central node, with the aura of death smashing into the division, ultimately recoiling back to the other side of the grove. The black line had successfully blocked the gale!

The observer secretly cheered for the child in their heart, happy at the fact that the aura of death was successfully warded off. Half of the grove was preserved!

The area was then naturally divided into equal segments of life and death, creating a weird sense of ambiance in the unique environment.

The observer suddenly noticed the child playing with a single white butterfly, which seemed to have escaped the tempest but existed in a rather peculiar state.

The butterfly's body was divided into two equal segments, one rotting and the other vibrant and alive, akin to the present state of the grove. The child slowly inscribed something onto the wings of the insect, the image creating a weird sense of tranquility in the unique environment.

While being engrossed in the eerily captivating scene, the observer suddenly felt their consciousness slowly being yanked out of the environment, a propelling force pushing them out of place. The sudden sensation made them naturally assume that their role as a spectator had come to an end, bringing with it a tinge of regret.

However before being expelled, the observer had a feeling that whatever the child had engraved on the butterfly's wings would enable him to get to the crux of the mystery behind the bizarre scene, causing him to struggle to peer at the fluttering butterfly.

The butterfly suddenly expanded in the observer's vision, growing and covering their entire line of sight as a line of mystical and unfamiliar texts which carried an allure of mystery was slowly reflected within their eyes. These texts seemed to give off an eerie glow, causing the observer to pay close attention to it.

The observer continued to peer at the line of cryptic texts, the scene before their eyes rapidly morphing into a swirling fabric of multiple colors. The colours constantly swirled and fused into each other, before instantly shattering, giving rise to a series of disgruntled, rapid gasps for air which could be heard echoing throughout a lonely room.