MiB

The floor reflected no color and no impurities. The walls blended seamlessly into one another as if no ceiling existed at all. He could not distinguish any break in the unity of white save a thin grey shadow blemishing the floor. Its existence was causeless and alien in the perfection of the room. Its presence perplexed the man whose stance appeared unnatural as he corrupted the floor’s pure state. The line began shifting, revealing a curved body of furniture, shaped with such consistency that he was not amazed at its absence from his sight before. It exposed a man dressed in a black suit staring directly at the intruder. It was at this moment that he understood what he was seeing: the MiB.