In any city, in any country, find any art supplies store or painting studio that you can get yourself into. look around the room to see if you can find someone working on a piece of art. If they have started, than do not disturb them until they are nearly finished. Once they are almost done, ask them if you can see a painting of "The Holder of the Palette." The artist should freeze on the spot, and turn to face you, a look of utter disbelief on their face. Should the look be anything besides that, either boredom or worse, hunger, then the object has been gained, and you have only a few short moments before you become the artist's new source of red paint.
The artist will begin to paint bizarre markings on the painting, ending with flourish that will send paint into your exposed eyes. You may scream at this point, the pain from the paint will be like none you have ever felt from something contacting your eyes. When you regain your sight, you should find yourself in the landscape the artist was painting. You may freely explore your surroundings, for you will need to find the thing here that is different from the painting.
After a while, you may find that something. Or, rather, someone. The person should be an old man, with a palette, a well-used smock covered in red "paint," and a light-colored brush, busy with filling in the missing scenery. On the palette will be differently colored eyeballs, with every color in its collection but one. Walk up to the man, and ask him "With what do They provide the red?"
The man will begin to tell you, in a well-edjucated manner, the history of colors. How each one gained its name, the chemical compositions, on what each color had been used, and why they used the color. Not necessarily terrifying, until he begins on the color red. He will begin with telling the discovery of red, with the blood that flowed in making the color, how it diverse it is with different sources and how the colors differ. You may well go insane and plead the man to end your life, but this will only lead to an unexplainable amount of pain in being his siphon for the rapidly-depleting supply of red.
He shall now look up at you, and look you deep in the eyes. It is unavoidable, and he shall find his missing color. Should you look into his eyes, you will find that the color of his is the exact same as yours. You must then rip the dull paintbrush from the man's hands and gouge it into his eye, before he has the chance to get it to you. Rip out the paint brush, and the man will scream in an ungodly way, shaking the very scenery. He will attack you, and begin to claw at your eyes. Do not kill this man, for to do so is to take his place as the painter of the universe. Remove his other eye with the paintbrush, then shove the now quivering man off of you.
Tell him only one thing, "For the master, I have no sympathy. For the rest, I feel." If he responds with "Why not pity them both?" then you are doomed, and will become a new painting subject, being molded and shaped in ways at which even They would cringe. However, should he respond "I am no longer the master," then respond with "When were you ever?"
You should find yourself in front of the painting that the artist was working on, the mark already made upon it, and the palette the man used lying on the ground. Pick it up and quickly leave, for the artist will wonder why you have ruined his work.
This palette is Object 167 of 538. The colors on it will pave the way. Whichever color you use, though, will end up crimson when they unite.