She understood.
Draven wasn't trying to destroy them.
He was forcing them to become replication-grade.
Draven's eyes returned to Amberine.
"You built a harmony model," he said. "Tell me what you think harmony costs."
Amberine opened her mouth and almost said something emotional.
Then she remembered the room.
She corrected herself.
"Harmony costs governance," she said, voice steadier than she felt. "Discipline. Measurement. Humility. The willingness to test what you don't want to be true."
Draven's expression didn't change.
But the air did.
"Good," he said.
Then he turned it into a clean blade of a statement, aimed at everyone:
"Then you understand the world is not saved by brilliance. It is saved by systems that survive misuse."
The hall heard the subtext.
A method.
A warning.
A future.
Draven's gaze swept the orb one final time.
He lowered his hand.
And ended the interrogation like a blade returning to its sheath.
"That's enough," he said.
Half a beat of shock.
