The world was black. Everything about was black as night. It was still and calm. Then came a wave. Nothing visible, but kinetic, static and barely tangible. The wave pushed past, engulfed, and now that world was the new world. No resonance of the old one was apparent. Sliding back slowly with the force, watching was all that could be done. Slowly, yes, but higher and farther back with the wave came a sense of vertigo and pulled downward, but up and back went. That static was now the state of being in the world, though ever-black, a change was coming. A shifting in the pitch tumbled forward. The vibrations were palpable as the rumbling created a constant hum. The first wave had past and pulled with it the remnants of that quiet emptiness. The second wave came now, pushing the quaking darkness. It could be seen now, a break in the sea of empty, as gone up and back, farther away from the surface, a light shown above a horizon it created. A small thing, still it's piercing rays, brought a glow to the old world; a red glow. The black below was being torn apart, but mathematically so. Onyx pyramids lifted and turned with the ebb of the oncoming wave. Once the pyramids settled, the tearing had been replaced by smooth and icy redness. The pulsing in the world, now far below, was a quickening shift of black glass to one of crimson. The crystalline world was taking on a new hue. Farther back and back, farther up and up, the transition below became more liquid than solid. Then immediately behind the amalgamating squall, the world plasticized in its new form. Ahead now, the old world was dying in a fashion much like it's birth. The black beaten back by the red until it was almost gone completely. The trembling, gone with the darkness, left the new world of crimson a quiet and still world. Falling up, the sensation was there, but no matter or difference in light was present to define it. The world simply fell away beneath. Up and up and up all was sameness until quite suddenly, a white light broke in from all sides and quickly engulfed the view. Ghost slowly appeared above a Guardians outstretched palm. The Guardians face under helm was in a shape of shock and awe. Ghost spoke with a sort of indignance that came with a teacher tired of a student not learning "See. That's how complicated it is to change shaders!" The Guardian stood at the tower for a moment, contemplated, and spoke decidedly "Yeeeah, I still want to see what the green one looks like." "Ugh!!!" Ghost once again reduced Himself to a molecular mote of light.