Amethyst

A room with nothing in it but two lines of light. One runs magenta across the dark on a long diagonal, one runs cyan and level near the floor, and a single plant stands where they cross. The interface is glass: raised is a slab with a lit top edge and one soft sheen across its whole face, carrying a single hairline of white light round it where it is a card or a tile. Recessed is the well cut into it, and the line stops at its lip. Anything chosen, current or open sinks into the well, because state here is depth and never colour.

Plinth Cast for display, the hairline drawn for Plinth and worn here because a hairline is what this room is made of. Karla for reading. Twelve icons, each a solid mark standing on a line with its reflection under it. That reflection is the look's one move, and it is the floor's move too: a thing arrives, and what it gives back arrives a beat after it.

It refuses: a fifth colour, a third material, a second accent in one viewport, a coloured selected state, a hard specular streak painted across a surface, a gradient standing in for a material, the film under body copy, and a paragraph set in the display face.