And Lara Knyght? The compositor registered her as ‘feint’—99% certainty.

The Blue Corner was chaos—shouts, hugs, Miko crying into Jax’s shoulder. Dex kept rewatching the replay, shaking his head. “Three-tenths of a second. That’s all you needed.”

The arena erupted.

Lara moved. Not with speed, but with precision. She stepped through the gap in their logic—the unhandled exception in their perfect machine. Her blade traced a single, elegant line: a TypeScript annotation in motion.

She turned to face them fully. “Here’s the plan.”