Built like Vedennius built.

In the late first century, a Roman military engineer named Gaius Vedennius Moderatus spent his career building the machines that made Rome's army the most formidable engineering operation in the ancient world.

Torsion catapults and ballistae: precision-tensioned war machines that had to work exactly the same way under every commander, in every province, for decades at a stretch. His tombstone, carved with a depiction of one of those machines, survives today as one of archaeology's clearest records of how Roman artillery was actually engineered.

He wasn't a general and he wasn't a strategist. He was an architectus: the person who turned ambition into something that actually worked, reliably, under pressure, without him standing over it. That's the standard we build to.

His name, Moderatus, meant disciplined. Restrained. Built to hold its tension without snapping. A torsion engine only works because every part is under load and none of it is guessing. That is a fair description of a system worth running a business on.

Not a marketing invention: his memorial tombstone is real, dated to the late first century AD, and stands today as one of the earliest surviving depictions of a Roman torsion catapult.