Pikio's closest rival, the Release Layer System (RLS), featured on Canyon’s Deflectr and the third-placed, 3D-printed Hexr Miden RLS, tackles rotation from the outside, using external shell panels floating on tiny polycarbonate ball bearings that can roll and detach, redirecting rotational energy before it reaches the head.

Lab testing is one thing, but real-world data is something else. If your Pikio helmet is called into serious action, you will need to replace it—as with most EPS foam designs—but the company is offering a 30 percent discount on a replacement if it can get its hands on your damaged helmet.

“So far we’ve had four helmets returned and replaced,” Abram says. “Each has proven invaluable, not least because they’ve done their job and kept riders safe.”

At $379, the Pikio is a premium choice—a cool $219 more expensive than the second-best STAR-tested Canyon Deflectr RLS. Much of the cost stems from a vastly more complicated manufacturing process. Abram says a standard cycling helmet has around eight to 10 parts, but the Pikio Si uses around 80 individual components. The separate foam sections, intricately engineered flexible connection points, and dual-density construction all add to the cost.

It’s a small price to pay if it saves your life, but how does it fare day to day? I’ve been riding with the Si Oblik for the past month and have been impressed by how few compromises there have been in the pursuit of protection.

At 279 grams (in medium size), it's respectably light, though not class-leading, and the dial-to-fit cradle hugs my head neatly without pinch points. It’s a little bulky for a road lid, but is extremely comfortable; the 17 air vents keep my head refreshingly cool, and nobody has laughed at me for wearing it (yet). I would have preferred Pikio to use a magnetic Fidlock fastening under the chin as they’re brilliant, but it is a minor complaint—which Abram quickly quashed: “Fidlock weighs around 13 grams; a buckle is just four grams.”

It’s a great helmet loaded with unique, deliberately safety-first tech. Abram was keen to point out he is not interested in what he called “crown-like cycle helmet” aesthetics, and that “form always follows function.” The Pikio lacks a little of the cool factor you’ll find with a POC or Giro helmet, but it’s certainly not ugly.

For a company most cyclists have never heard of, taking the top spot at Virginia Tech is an extraordinary result. The harder part may be persuading people to trust an unknown name with something as consequential as head protection. MIPS faced a similar problem before turning an independent safety technology into something licensed across much of the helmet industry, and Oblik could conceivably follow the same path.

Whether Pikio becomes a major helmet brand—a second design is due early in the new year—a technology supplier, or both remains to be seen. But for now, it has given the cycling industry a new number to chase.