As he made his way back to his office, carrying a hot drink in his hand, he came to a stop halfway through. Staring at the closed door of his office and the faint light coming from under it, he heaved a long sigh, then continued. Entering the office, he locked the door behind him, placed his mug on the coffee table, and sat down on one of the adjacent sofas.
The small lamp on the nearby desk was the only source of illumination. The soft light it cast revealed the shapes of objects spread around the office, but not the details, leaving most things veiled by a shadow.
The same went for anyone occupying the space. If struck by the light from the wrong angle, one would appear as nothing more than a black silhouette. And if one had their face painted entirely black, people would struggle even more to make out their features or any expression they might make.
