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Previously, Jul's world had been full of color, even when his life could've been better. He chased after the prestigious colors adorned by higher ranks - both out of the Sangheili's sense of pride and glory, and a little bit to be the man worthy of his beloved Raia. Coming home with better and better status made up for the fact that he had to leave her side at all.
Until the day she died. Until humans had schemed against his species and caused her to die in the process.
He hadn't been there - that was part of the problem as to why it happened - but he knew enough about battle and ships to picture it so clearly in his head. The sickly colors that would've taken over her natural beauty as the fire, smoke, and debris did her in. She'd be black and blue all over from the ship coming down all over her. He wasn't sure which cause would've been better in that situation - getting crushed to death would be brutal, but far faster than slowly suffocating to death. Yet all roads led to her beauty being destroyed.
From the moment he learned of her fate, those colors took over his world. He spilled the purple and red blood of his enemies - not just humans, but the traitors amongst his own kind that helped this happen. He rejected the majestic colors shipmaster and fleetmaster ranks bestowed, donning a somber blue and gray that reflected the shell he was now.
All of them would die in the same gruesome fashions that could've befallen his wife in those unseen final moments. Anything beautiful remaining in this galaxy would be snuffed out, because how dare it continue to exist in spite of her absence - how dare it all outlive her.