The world is full of vibrant colors.
Hue, saturation, and value meet at specific points, revealing millions upon millions of colors that the human eye can see.
Colors that provide hope, worth, purpose.
Somewhere at the crossroads, where all colors blend together, is an underlying sense of gloom and despair.
The full value of this mix can give you black or white, depending on the material you’re working with.
But in between these extremes lies the grey.
Where nothing stands out, where nothing matters.
Where that purpose, that worth, that hope fades into shades of obscurity.
Leaving only the sense that one is moving in autopilot, doing the bare minimum to get by.
Needless to say, the grey is boring…and it is the greatest fear of those who live in color.
For they know just what fate awaits those who fade into grey.
They become another body in the pile, another blip on the radar of no significance.
And no one likes feeling insignificant.
It’s why the grey is largely used in art and fashion to indicate dullness.
Grey clouds indicate a block of the sun, casting the world in its own sense of doubt and pain.
As people grow old, they notice their hair going grey…and they either cover it in dye, or shave it off entirely.
Because deep down, all fear the dread that comes with the grey…but there is no escaping it.
The grey finds all, the grey consumes all.
And the grey will consume you, if you let it.
I can sense it in the Rainbow Party, who have found themselves combating the grey in recent weeks.
The loss of a close friend or loved one can do that to you.
You can feel the color draining from your lifeforce as you mourn.
And that is how the grey comes creeping in.
That feeling of dread, of self-doubt, of dismay can take hold of you quick when you’re at your lowest.
And that, gentlemen, is something I’m banking on.
I am the grey.
I am that sense of dread, of hopelessness, slowly creeping into your psyche.
Because I look at Vigour and The Generation Kid, and I don’t just see two men mourning the loss of their friend.
I see colors losing their hue and saturation, replaced with a sense of feeling worthless.
Like you’ve lost your hope, your purpose.
Your significance.
And it pleases me.
Because I know what’s coming next.
When you’re this down in the dumps, you’re fully consumed by the dread.
You fade into the grey, devoid of purpose.
And then, I can beat you into submission…until all is black.
When I’m through, you’ll never have to worry about needing to stand out again.
I will take the last shreds of your worth away from you, and make you fall in line with the rest.
Just a couple more blips disappearing from the radar, leaving only static.
Just a couple more bodies for the pile…and believe me, there will be a pile.