Dropping the pads around our own star saved two cells and cost the chip its shape — squeezed between two chevrons it read as a glyph wedged into the seam rather than as a segment of the route. The pads are not room for a long word, they are what makes a chip a chip. The dark grey fill and the map's yellow ink stay. Co-Authored-By: Claude Opus 5 (1M context) <noreply@anthropic.com>