As the platform rotated counter-clockwise, the Little Fish also swam counter-clockwise around the center of the cross, moving backward.
Mo Ling didn't know if this was by design, but he found it odd.
He flew higher and, following the lines of runes, slowly read aloud the Fishman script near the platform:
"Clock..."
"Yu Mengyue, Yu Yumeng, in time and space, the clock is empty..."
'Is this... a poem?'
Mo Ling was a little surprised.
He had never encountered a poetic style like this in any of the Fishman script he had seen before.
But the moment Mo Ling deciphered this line of runes, he realized it was a poem—a very strange one.
Mo Ling had carefully examined the runes on the Moon Altar before. Compared to the diary-like entries in the ancient Fishman records, the lines of runes on the Moon Altar clearly bore the hallmarks of poetry.
Most of it was written vaguely and intermittently, making it impossible to discern any real meaning.
'Why use poetry?' Mo Ling wondered.
