They landed in Chromasaur Canyon, where emerald ferns drooped, drained of all colour. Standing guard over a jagged crystal prism, a towering beast—its scales grey as folded ash—lowered its head. “I am Vantor, eater of hues,” it thundered, voice rattling their bones. Eli’s knees knocked together.

Before panic could overtake him, Theo leaned close and whispered, “Distract, decode, restore.” Isla puffed up with brave energy. “Vantor, bet you can’t catch a shadow!” she shouted, darting away, her laughter ringing like silver chimes. The monster lunged, the ground trembling beneath its colossal step.

Meanwhile, Eli and Nebula edged toward the prism. Symbols spiralled across its cloudy glass. When Eli focused, his worry calmed—puzzles always soothed him. Gently, he traced each symbol: red for bravery, blue for honesty, yellow for joy.

“Speak your heart,” Nebula urged quietly. Eli drew a breath. “I’m scared, but I am brave. I’m unsure, but honest. I’m hopeful, and so I am joyful.” Suddenly, glowing colours flared from his hands, dancing straight into the waiting crystal.