Andy stood in his workshop, watching a grainy broadcast flicker across the small screen mounted near his workbench. Queen Bramble's face filled the frame, her smile sharp as she gestured toward a wooden toy that looked suspiciously like one of his early prototypes — the one that had split apart after three days of use. The commercial cut to a plush dressed in a black cape and mask, its pink bow bouncing as an actor's voice declared it "smart enough to last." Then back to Queen Bramble, holding her glittering phone to the camera. "Why trust toys that break when you can trust toys that think?" The screen displayed a crude drawing of a grinning figure in a yellow hoodie, phone raised, over the words: Watch at the Square. Andy turned off the screen. His hands moved to the workbench, where three versions of the same spinning top sat in different states of assembly. The problem wasn't intelligence. It was pressure points — where the axle met the casing, where small fingers gripped too hard during the launch. He picked up the middle prototype and tested the joint with his thumb. Outside, voices gathered in the direction of the square. Andy set down the top and reached for his notebook instead. If parents thought he was building careless toys, he needed to show them otherwise. Not with words. With something that wouldn't break when their children actually played with it. He wrote: Durability test — public demonstration, and underlined it twice.