When Draft opened her eyes, she found herself standing in a place she didn't recognize at all.
There were no desks, no paper, no classroom walls—only an endless stretch of pure white, as if she had been placed on a canvas that could expand forever.
Floating in this blank space were countless screens, hanging like stars scattered across a silent sky. Each screen showed a different world—some filled with handsome characters in elaborate outfits, some bursting with laughter and warmth, others dazzling with stunning abilities and breathtaking scenery.
Draft lowered her head and looked at herself.
She was still the same big-headed, tiny-bodied sketch, nothing but simple pencil lines that trembled softly. She touched her own outline, feeling the coolness of graphite. A strange emotion rose inside her—compared to those bright, polished worlds, she felt fragile, thin… like an unfinished sketch left without color.
Her eyes were soon drawn to one particular world, glowing with vivid, clashing hues.
Every leaf carried multiple shades.
Every flower looked like spilled paint from a palette.
Sunlight poured over everything in layers, making the whole place shimmer as if it were alive with color.
"…It's beautiful…" she whispered.
Unable to resist, she reached out and gently touched the edge of the screen.
In an instant, the scene around her began to spin.
The white space rippled like water struck by a falling stone, and the lights from the screens swirled into a vortex that swept her inside. Draft held tightly onto her pencil as her body tumbled weightlessly. Her lines wavered, but deep in her heart, a quiet resolve took root—she wanted to see this world, touch it, and be part of it.
When she finally steadied herself, the world before her had completely transformed.
The ground beneath her shimmered like a liquid palette, shifting colors with every faint movement. The air carried the soft scent of blended pigments. Flowers bloomed in bold, changing shades, and when the breeze passed, the lights rippled like flowing paint.
The pencil in her hand quivered gently, as if telling her:
Here, you can learn. Here, you can grow.
Yet among all this brilliance, Draft felt painfully out of place.
Her lines were still faint and thin.
Her body still looked like a half-finished sketch.
Her lack of color made her stand out sharply against the vibrant world around her. Even a tiny flower beside her was glowing with five shifting colors—while she remained nothing but pale gray strokes.
Just as Draft stood frozen, trying to take in everything around her, a sudden gasp rang out behind her.
Draft spun around.