It can't be built from straight lines — so it isn't drawn. It's computed. Bring the sun down and watch it bloom.
Red bends least, so it rides the outer edge of the primary bow and the inner edge of the secondary — the order flips because the secondary carries a second internal reflection. Between them: Alexander's dark band, where no ray can leave. None of these numbers were typed in. They fall out of the drop.
The shape-bank splits cleanly in two, and they are physically incompatible: you cannot build a true sphere from straight edges, and you cannot build a Platonic solid from curves. This is not two styles of geometry. It is the cage that extracts against the flow that grows.
Straight line, flat plane, zero curvature. The line punctures; the solid encloses; together they extract. Reality diced into flat-faced, countable tokens — nature rendered as inventory.
Pure curvature and motion. Nothing here can be assembled from a straight edge. These are the organic Earth forms — and the rainbow is made of three of them at once: a sphere, throwing a radial arc of a dispersed wave.
The rainbow is the unlock because it is the field refusing to stay cut apart — the whole spectrum, in order, in the open sky, with no instrument in between.
Every form here is grown from its own real mathematics — no shape is placed by hand. The five Platonic solids remain at The Five Forms, kept deliberately as the foil: the cage you walk out of to get here.