Fate's Choice: Livestream at the Start Summoning Billions of Ravens

The encrypted radio frequency flickered, and within two minutes, this message appeared on the tactical display screen in front of Chen Jianguo at the East Coast Base Command Center. Chen Jianguo pressed the connection button for the Navy Mapping Center's independent dedicated line.

The large supercomputer in the background started up, and relying on the few ancient weak gravity anomalies left by the only batch of near-Earth orbit altimetry satellites, the machine reversed the process to deduce the cross-sectional shape of the seabed in that area.

Once the progress bar finished loading, a rough 3D mesh model popped up in the center of the main screen. The terrain of the sea area, which should have been cut into a standard V-shape and fallen, was instead transformed into a giant lump over 300 meters high.

The outer edge curvature was extremely unnatural, clashing with the geological fracture zone formed by the long accumulation of sediment in the surrounding area. Chen Jianguo uncapped the red marker.

A glaring red circle was drawn on the black and white grid, two question marks were heavily marked, and a note was quickly written on the edge: Is it an abnormal submarine volcano? Or some kind of unknown geological structure? There is insufficient data to determine.

Crustal compression could never create such a geometrically significant object. He scanned and encrypted the marked grid map, transmitted it to the Tanyuan command center, and then dialed the encrypted voice channel.

"The planned route is cancelled. I will be responsible for all special matters concerning the formation at this stage. Adjust the course immediately and cut in 15 degrees south!" He issued the mandatory order into the microphone.

Inside the command center of the Tanyuan, the captain gripped the communicator, pressing firmly against the edge of the sea area marking board. "The heavy oil reserves don't have enough leeway to venture into unmarked blind spots, and that location isn't even within the route of the pre-reported mission plan." The captain wouldn't budge an inch.

"I said, the scheduled route is cancelled, and I will bear all the consequences. Change direction." Chen Jianguo's voice came over the encrypted channel, showing no sign of backing down.

The captain stared at the abrupt 300-meter protrusion on the transmitted seabed grid map, shut his mouth, turned to the control panel, and roared the order to change course: "Hard to starboard, heading 165!"

The InterContinental Hotel Rome has its large suites with underfloor heating set to a full 30 degrees Celsius.

Jiang Ming dragged the set of coordinate numbers out of the satellite interception channel and threw it into the large search box on the holographic system base, forcibly overlapping the two data weaves.

The faint, unknown signal source that was flashing red light was no more than twelve kilometers away from the seventh coordinate point that Funina had just hit. This coordinate was a piece of garbled code that the system accidentally captured a few days ago when it was analyzing the underlying logic of the Holy Grail remnants.

The system was certain that it did not belong to the monster sequence of the abyss. Jiang Ming looked at the overlapping latitude and longitude, crossed his hands under his chin, and laid the net for scooping out the big fish in the correct position.

Jiang Ming increased the frequency of tapping the virtual numeric keypad with his finger bones, dragged out the second page of the hidden interface, and opened the progress bar of the puppet construction library.

The code column on the resume panel popped up with four rows of patch entries, the contents of which pointed directly to the space collapse hibernation and falling with the chaotic ocean currents, forcibly stuffing the shattered fault puzzle pieces onto the orbit.

The progress bar for the reshaping of New Mirror One flipped once and then remained stuck at 37%.

This process has entered the physical locking phase. The ship is moving and the water is flowing. The percentage will only continue to move forward when the main event begins.

As time moved forward, the fleet's overall voyage entered its twenty-ninth hour. In the lowest, most enclosed compartment of the Tanyuan, the warning light above the sonar room door flashed bright red, but there was no external noise.

A bizarre broadband wave, 0.07 Hz, unexpectedly cut into the horizontal band scanner of the main control panel.

The sonar supervisor slapped the lock button, extracted three segments of underlying voiceprint data from the main control screen, and immediately compared the digital overlap. A complete high and low oscillation cycle was completed in fourteen seconds, and the amplitude of the jump source and the fall back to the plane were exactly the same.

After letting it run through sixteen cycles, the overlapping scales of the waveforms were all aligned, and the coordinate positioning was locked on the spot, pointing to the core axis at the southern end of the Mariana Trench, 10,800 meters below the seabed.

Ocean currents and silt cannot create something of this caliber; it possesses an undeniable sense of artificial carving and sculpting. Outside the top-floor rest area, a sliding automatic door squeezes two magazines to the corner, making a clanging noise.

Funina walked to the sturdy riot door of the soprano room, but did not step through it. She stood in the red light of the corridor and slowly closed her eyes.

Standing beside her, Zhou Ruo clearly saw the mark between the Water God's eyebrows suddenly change from a faint flicker to an extremely bright and continuous azure light for a full thirty seconds.

When Funina reopened her eyes, her usual haughty and even slightly playful relaxed demeanor was completely gone, replaced by a quiet and focused presence unique to a deity. "That thing is breathing."

She stated her conclusion bluntly. Zhou Ruo stopped behind her, staring at the sign on the isolation panel. "Is that the remaining Abyss Contamination Pile?" Zhou Ruo asked. Fu Ningna shook her head.

"I'm not close enough to see the whole picture." Her hand rested on the protruding rivet rings on the door frame. "But it's different from those lifeless abyssal debris. I can feel that there's an extremely ancient aura hidden in that signal, which is subtly resonating with my 'water' essence."

........

Halfway around the world, in the restoration hall of the National Museum in Cairo, with a sharp slicing sound, Hassan, holding an extremely fine steel knife, painstakingly scraped away the last half inch of stubborn gray-green dead skin from the surface of the bronze artifact.

The cotton ball soaked in a special strong acid was repeatedly rubbed against the afterimage in the groove, and the densely packed characters arranged in seventeen consecutive lines were exposed under the illumination of two sets of cold light sources.

When the microscope probe is pressed down, it is only three centimeters away from the objective lens. The right-angled triangular symbols that belong to traditional cuneiform script cannot be found, nor can they be matched with the ancient symbols of the Ptolemaic system.

The 72-year-old man put away his knife and went on strike. His finger twitched by half a centimeter. On these seventeen lines of engravings unknown to modern people, the same basic graphic unit frequently occupies the central position.

A perfectly circular outline encloses the base, with a neatly engraved dot inside, ⊙, representing the physical record of the sun.

Hassan removed the gold key from his neck, unscrewed the heavy combination lock on the table leg, took out a leather-bound notebook, and turned to the third page marked with black pen marks—the strange drawing he had scribbled on a few days earlier, a drawing that was beyond his control.

The pages of the notebook were close to the black base of the scales. He pointed to the heads of the intricately carved miniature statues. The forty-two gods of truth, enshrined in ancient Egyptian scrolls, should have been seated on the base of this scale.

After counting past the twenty-second one, the sharp steel tip of the carving knife rammed directly into the fixing band of the twenty-third one. It was slippery and reflective. It was a concave crescent-shaped surface that sank inward, and the human figure was completely gone.

Hassan replaced it with a portable device that magnifies the image by 100 times. Deep beneath the smooth surface, horizontal cutting marks were clearly visible, a result not caused by wind or sand.

An unknown external force had intervened, using a weapon to forcibly scrape and destroy the framework of the twenty-third divine vessel's status. Hassan's aged heart skipped a beat.

This is an extremely devastating discovery that defies expectations. The scales of Anubis, as the embodiment of rules, actually bear traces of deliberate alteration and erasure. This suggests that the true history of this artifact, and the core of the so-called "judgment of the gods," are far more profound and complex than what is presented on the surface of the records and myths.

They tore off the two intertwined snake head symbols from the kraft paper and pasted them on, making sure the bottom cut lines were exactly the same. The guards on duty outside heard a sharp metallic scraping sound and yanked open the door to the restoration hall.