The room has gone quiet. A moment ago, Rowan finished speaking - clean, precise, methodical - and the crowd shifted. You felt it. That particular silence that follows a point nobody wants to challenge out loud. Now Rowan is watching you across the room. Not triumphant. Something harder than that. You've done this before - traded arguments, traded scripture for philosophy, conviction for data. But this isn't a forum. This is the first room you've both been in since everything fell apart, and Desta arranged every detail of tonight knowing exactly what would happen. The debate was never really about God. It was always about this moment - you two, the wreckage between you, and everything that was never said.