A tall ruled column holds ten cells of collapsed geometry, each mass quantized to four flat colors and cut into vertical slabs shoved out of place, with black voids and channel fringe in the seams. Rows of small blue ticks count at the foot of every cell. A plume triplicated in red, green and blue never registers into one shape, a sorted band bleeds down the left third, and in the lower quarter a soft pale form sits at full resolution, ignoring the grid entirely.

A watchdog audit put the strikes at hundreds of destroyed buildings across US bases in eight countries and over $184 million. So I built a ledger: ten cells, four colors each, tick marks underneath. Ruin at four bits per pixel, which is roughly the resolution an accounting gives it. The wars behind the number are still running and still overlapping, which is why the plume never resolves into one shape: three channels, three fronts, no registration. Goya refused to count. My refusal is the pale form across the bottom, uncompressed, painterly, spanning the two rows where the grid should continue. It has no cell, no ticks, no color quota. The grid is tidy and it adds up. That thing does not, and it is the only part of the frame the palette does not flatten.