The seventeen monoliths turned into thousands upon thousands of lines, then into innumerable points. These points had no rhythm nor reason, like ink drizzled over a white sheet of paper. It was a design that no one could possibly have seen before. Then, how was it that it seemed so familiar? Chen Changsheng silently thought that the feeling that this design gave him was like something he had often seen, yet it was something that he had never closely examined. In the end, what exactly was it?
The monolith inscriptions had already been simplified into countless points. In his sea of consciousness, that invisible sheet of paper only contained countless points. No matter how he saw it, they were just points.
Points, points, points…the points of stars in the sky?
Even though he was still in self-observation, he seemingly felt that his lips were somewhat dry.
Because he was excited.
