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

Parkinson's tremors almost completely disappeared within a two-meter radius of the scales. His right hand was as steady as an iron stake, and the lines the pen tip traced on the paper were even cleaner than they had been twenty years ago.

Libra is lending him strength, and he knows it.

It wanted him to understand it more quickly.

The precise copying of the fourteen unknown symbols has been completed, and the frequency statistics table and the Sumerian clay tablet cross-comparison matrix neatly fill six consecutive pages of the notebook.

He turned to the blank space on the seventh page and wrote his conclusion in very small print.

Hassan's finger hovered over the paper for three seconds before he put pen to paper.

"There exists a shared symbol system that transcends the known boundaries of human civilization."

Move the pen tip to the next line.

"Ancient Egypt and Sumer, two civilizations that are considered by mainstream archaeology to have evolved independently, share at least four completely identical unconventional symbols."

He lifted the pen tip to check if the ink was completely dry under the light of the gooseneck lamp, and then continued writing.

"These symbols do not belong to any known writing system; they are not hieroglyphics, not cuneiform, not linear script A or B, and not any discovered primitive characterization system."

He wrote the last line very slowly.

"But the depth, angle, and proportions of their engravings on the scale base and Sumerian clay tablets are exactly the same, with geometric deviations within three percent, as if they were made by the same hand with the same engraving knife."

He closed his pen and drew a circle at the end of the sentence.

The circle was left blank.

That represents a blank space, indicating that he doesn't yet know whose hand it is.

He put down the notebook and turned to look at the base of the scale.

The circular relief features twenty-four deities, each meticulously depicted with distinct features and clothing. However, the twenty-third position is a smooth concave surface.

When magnified 400 times, the cut reveals a hexagonal geometric lattice array, a mark that no physical tool could leave.

He had previously drawn a double-snake entwined diamond knot symbol unconsciously, which he then tore off and pasted into the groove, fitting perfectly with the cutting line frame.

Tonight he decided to try something new.

He placed the piece of paper with the double snake symbol back into groove number twenty-three, pressed the edge of the paper with the index and middle fingers of his left hand, and then gently placed the pad of his right finger on the center of the groove.

The moment the fingertip pressed down, the scales hummed.

A deep humming sound emanated from deep within the bronze body, with an extremely low frequency, unlike sound waves, more like a resonance conducted in some kind of solid.

It lasted for two seconds.

As the buzzing disappeared, golden light shot from the scarab's eyes, and the two beams converged on the white plaster surface of the restoration hall ceiling, bursting into a curtain of light at the point of intersection.

The light screen tightens into a clear holographic image within three seconds.

Hassan looked up, his right hand, which had stopped moving, remained firmly pressed in the groove.

At the center of the image is a giant lotus flower rising from the water.

The lotus stem is submerged beneath the azure water, its petals unfolding layer upon layer, each petal's pattern perfectly matching the lotus scepter design on the Libra base.

Twenty-four human figures stood on the petals.

Each human figure has a semi-transparent golden luster, with blurred faces but different postures, corresponding one by one to the twenty-four gods on the relief of the bottom of the scale.

Hassan identified them one by one.

The first to the twenty-second ones are clearly distinguishable, with even light.

The twenty-third position is a blank space resembling water ripples.

It's not a missing piece, not a black hole, but constantly flowing water ripples, as if something once stood there and was then washed away by the water, leaving only the traces of the water itself.

The twenty-fourth one is normal, with a stable golden light.

The video lasted for six seconds.

Six seconds later, the lotus began to shatter from the tips of its petals. The golden light curtain collapsed from the outside to the center. The last thing to disappear was the water ripple at position number twenty-three. Before disappearing, the water ripple rotated half a circle, like an eye making its last turn before closing.

The ceiling returned to its pristine white plaster finish.

Only the hum of the gooseneck lamps and Hassan's own breathing remained in the restoration hall.

He lifted his right hand out of the groove, revealing a faint red mark around his fingertips, as if he had been branded but it didn't hurt.

He turned to a new page in his notebook, and as his pen touched the paper, the Parkinson's tremor returned briefly for a second before disappearing again, as if Libra was reminding him not to stray too far.

He wrote down five lines of text.

First line: Libra is releasing proactive information for the first time, rather than being passively judged.

The second line: The holographic image presents the original form of the twenty-four deities arranged in a circular pattern, which is completely consistent with the circular layout of the relief on the bottom surface.

The third line: Position number twenty-three is not empty, but a water ripple, a continuously flowing water ripple.

Fourth line: The twenty-third deity is related to water and has been removed from the panel. Who removed him and why?

He paused, turned back to the page with the translation of the Sumerian clay tablets, where the speculative translation lay quietly on the paper.

"In the deep waters... the judge... impartiality."

He placed the two pages of notes side by side under the lamp and studied them for a long time.

The two clues converged within the small aperture of the gooseneck lamp.

One line comes from a Sumerian clay tablet from five thousand years ago, and the other from the projection of Libra tonight; they both point in the same direction.

There is a judge in the deep waters.

This adjudicator was once the twenty-third of the twenty-four.

It's no longer on the panel; only watermarks remain.

Hassan wrote a conjecture on the last line of his notebook.

His pen hovered over the paper for four seconds before falling, during which time the Parkinson's tremor did not occur. The compound eyes of the Libra scarab flickered steadily at a frequency of fourteen times per minute, as if nodding.

"If the twenty-third deity is in deep water, and Libra is helping me understand this..."

He wrote the last word, and the pen lingered on the paper for a moment longer.

The scarab beetle's flashing frequency jumped from fourteen to fifteen times in this beat, and then fell back to fourteen times.

Hassan glanced up at Libra, then looked down and read the line of text aloud.

"What does Libra want to do?"

He added the answer on a new line after the question mark.

"It is searching for the part that was removed from itself."

The sound of the pen cap being snapped back on echoed in the restoration room late at night.

Hassan locked the notebook in a steel plate safe with a triple combination lock. As he turned the lock, the tremor in his right hand finally returned, and his fingertips made a soft tapping sound on the metal surface.

He didn't reach for the box of Parkinson's medication that remained unopened on the corner of the table.

He turned to look at Libra.

The scarab's compound eyes resumed their uniform blinking of fourteen times per minute, the golden light flickering in the dimly lit restoration room like a patient heart.

Hassan did a quick mental calculation.

Fourteen times per minute, eight hundred and forty times per hour, and twenty thousand one hundred and sixty times per day.

How many times has his heart beaten since he became the holder?

How many times has this object jumped since it was created?

It has been searching ever since it was deleted, asking questions every time it jumps to the page.

For five thousand years, it has been fourteen times per minute.

He pushed the safe back under the table, turned off the gooseneck lamp, and sat alone in the dark for three minutes.

The golden shimmer of the scarab became the only light source in the restoration hall, flickering on and off.

Like a lighthouse.