Everyone's eyes focused on the strange patterns that continued to appear, until they filled an entire line, until a string of evenly spaced dots appeared after the symbols, until a stretch of empty white noise came through the listening channel. A notification tone indicating "signal lost" sounded from a nearby Magic Net Terminal, and only then did many people seem to remember how to breathe, drawing in deep breaths.
"The signal is gone..." A listener rose from his chair, a trace of bewilderment on his face, then immediately repeated himself. "The signal is gone..."
The Holographic Projection in the center of the room remained active, its clear image suspended in midair. Gawain stared fixedly at the "symbols" that had appeared at the end, his gaze not moving for a long while—they seemed to consist of arcs and straight lines, arranged in groups of four to six, separated by dots or short strokes. It was hard not to draw certain associations.
"Your Majesty, do you think these things..." Bard could not help breaking the silence. "They look like..."
"Writing," Gawain said quietly. "They look like some kind of writing."
"We've never seen this kind of writing," an elderly Magic Industrial Technician with graying hair muttered nearby. "I'd wager no one here recognizes it... It looks far too strange."
Bercetia remained silent beside Gawain. She was still not entirely certain what had happened, but based on Gawain's explanations along the way and what she had just witnessed, a vague guess had already formed in her mind. Her gaze swept across every face present. On those faces, she saw tension, excitement, confusion, speculation, and the thoughtfulness shared by everyone. At last, she looked to Gawain and saw only those deep, calm eyes, like still water—yet something seemed to be brewing in their depths.