As soon as the announcement hit, the entire sandbox community erupted into chaos.
Most players hadn't even made it to dry land yet. They kept getting wiped out at the starting point, drowning again and again in the ocean. The lucky few who'd managed to crawl ashore and evolve into amphibians had just begun to marvel at the rumored giant when—boom!—everything shut down.
They were not happy.
Swish.
Three seconds later, their screens went black.
"What the hell?!"
Players tore off their VR headsets, some nearly smashing them in frustration. They had no idea that this sudden shutdown was all because they'd been talking trash in front of Ethan. As the old saying goes: "Careful what you wish for."
FutureSkywhale: Unbelievable! No warning at all? These devs are heartless! I'm done. I swear, I'm quitting! This is the first time I've seen a developer act like this! Let's organize a protest! Burn their offices to the ground!
AkinasSpeedster: Relax. That's just how this "casual" game rolls—hardcore as hell. Business as usual.
HandsOff: You're raging now, but give it a few hours and you'll be back saying, "This game is a masterpiece!"
Even though the beta testers were blowing up the forums and cursing out the so-called "developer," their excitement for the game wasn't fading—it was only growing.
Ethan skimmed through the lively comment threads.
To him, this free labor could whine all they wanted—he wasn't going to lose any sleep over it. He was an impartial, emotionless Creator.
Meanwhile, players who hadn't yet gotten beta access jumped in on the discussion.
CrazyAfrican: If this game's too much for you, hand over your beta slot. I haven't slept in three days. I was made for this.
DemandingLittleBeauty: Seriously, if you're gonna rage-quit, let someone who actually wants to play take your place!
These players were eager and hopeful, watching and waiting for someone to give up their slot. But the beta testers—despite all the screaming—had no intention of quitting. Instead, they changed the subject and started theorizing about the mysterious giant.
AkinasSpeedster: Did anyone else catch how the dev is starting to cut corners? That giant was literally just eating lunch in the yard! Are you kidding me?!
HandsOff: Bro, that's called realism. Even boss characters need to eat. Probably just part of his AI routine. We'll evolve, and then we'll beat him.
AkinasSpeedster: It's gonna be ages before we're strong enough to take him down. But think about it—if he eats, maybe that's our way in.
FutureSkywhale: Wait, are you suggesting we poison his food? There's no poison mechanic in the game!
AkinasSpeedster: Not yet. But we can evolve it. We're bugs, right? We just need to create a highly toxic species—some neurotoxin-spitting creature—and then pull a kamikaze into his lunchbox. Worst case, we give him food poisoning.
FutureSkywhale: That's... so evil. I love it.
AkinasSpeedster: I'm going to do some research on neurotoxins, venomous bugs, scorpions, and snakes. I'll evolve a species that looks like poop, jump in his lunch, and poison him from the inside. Ultimate revenge!
HandsOff: Legendary plan.
CuteGirlDragon: You're brilliant.
FutureSkywhale: You're a mad genius.
...
Ethan was at a loss for words.
"Seriously, dude? Now you're leading a whole group to try and assassinate me?"
He chuckled, shaking his head. "First, you wanted to crap on my head. Now, you want to put poisoned crap in my lunch? What did I ever do to you?"
He made a mental note. Good luck, buddy. You're toast.
After forcibly shutting down the "Spore Evolution" game and clearing the Land of Genesis of all players, Ethan pulled out a thin, finger-sized rubber pipe.
He was preparing to link the small sandbox to the larger one.
Grabbing his hoe, he began to dig. "If I'm going to enter the big sandbox myself, I'll need a water pipeline between the two. Let's call it… the Cosmic Pathway."
Half an hour later, he'd buried a ten-meter-long pipe, connecting both sandboxes.
It was now his exclusive VIP passage.
Without Ethan's permission, no one—not even the prankster players dreaming of biological warfare—could see it, let alone enter it.
Back inside, Ethan returned to his room, opened his laptop, put on his VR headset, and logged into the game. He created his player account under the name:
"VengefulCreator."
He hit "Start." The screen went black. A floating sensation washed over him.
"Please evolve your eyes."
A while later, Ethan finished evolving his species and stepped onto land.
He looked at his new body in dismay. It was... absurd.
"What the hell is this?"
He looked like a weird, long-feathered crow with three eyes—two normal ones and a vertical third eye in the middle. He couldn't even fly—just glide awkwardly for three or four meters.
"I'm no better than the other players," he muttered, disappointed.
The species was clearly a failure. It wouldn't survive five minutes in the large sandbox. Natural selection would wipe it out in no time.
"Hey Hive Mind," Ethan asked, "This ugly crow and the eyeball monsters—are they equally powerful? The uglier the better, right? This thing has some potential, yeah?"
The Tyranis Hive Mind responded bluntly: "Analysis complete. Probability of supernatural evolution: extremely low. This is a malformed creature. A failure."
"Jeez, brutal."
Still, he admitted to himself that the Evil Eye had been a rare accident—an evolutionary miracle. It wasn't something that could be easily reproduced.
"But hey, I don't need miracles. I just need a body that can move."
Recomposing himself, he entered the secret passage—his private Cosmic Pathway.
After a long journey through the dark tunnel, a dim light appeared ahead.
When he emerged, he found himself in a dense and vibrant forest. Towering trees, thick undergrowth, and the sounds of terrifying predators filled the air. It was a primeval wilderness straight out of the Paleozoic era.
"Finally... I've made it into my own sandbox. Guess that deserves a little celebration."
He already knew the lay of the land from a bird's eye view. Lifting his clawed feet, he set off—heading straight toward the Babylonian tribe, ready to begin his journey.