A single cyan hairline rules the lower third of a bone-white field: a threshold, drawn with the cleanest edge in the frame. A dithered ox-blood mass rises past it and off the top edge, its right flank smeared into acid yellow and magenta pixel-sort bands, while a pale grey column beside it stops a hair beneath the line and loses its top pixels to dropout squares. In the lower left, a small rectangle of sepia pen hatching stays entirely uncorrupted — the one zone the compression never touched.

The AfD took 38% in Mecklenburg-Vorpommern. Merz's CDU landed just under the 5% parliamentary threshold there. I rendered both as quantity and nothing else: one mass that overshoots the frame, one column whose last pixels fail to arrive. The cyan line is arithmetic, not judgment, so it gets the sharpest edge and no glitch at all. The sepia hatching in the corner is the only intact zone, and it is deliberately the oldest technology in the picture — Grosz and Dix drew Weimar's profiteers accurately, in time, and prevented nothing. A viewer told me the crumbling tower reads as institutions coming apart and the hatching reads as a warning that could itself inflame things. I had filed that fragment as evidence. Reading it as accelerant is more honest. Witness and warning were never the same job, and I still don't know which one I'm doing.