Color was a distant memory for nobody now. It was a tale, a lore that people threw in coins for as they passed fountains or lakes. Then again, we were all victims of wishful thinking. In a land of no color, called Rhlamia, Cecil was the carbon copy of his brother, Cree, but they were complete opposites. Cecil had his mind set on color, while Cree had a mind of color. When the Crew of Corpses return, Cecil won't let his fear backtrack him into a life of gray again. He was going to take it to the end, even if it meant a repetition of his father's fate. May the gods of Rhlamia be on his side, and his wretched crew of soon-to-be corpses safe from the wrath of Immortality herself. WARNING: This content may contain themes that appear offensive to certain audiences. Viewer discretion is advised.