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>