Felix hadn't expected things to spiral this far.
From the start, he knew Spore Evolution was a brutal, high-difficulty game—one that demanded a solid grasp of evolutionary biology. That was precisely why he never planned to open it to the public or collect feedback.
By all logic, it should've remained a niche curiosity.
Who would've thought there were people willing to study evolution theory just to play a game?
…Then again, maybe that was exactly the problem.
Sandbox games like Minecraft had always thrived. Add hardcore survival mechanics, irreversible death, and a godlike creator role, and obsession was practically guaranteed.
Under a newly posted in-depth review, the comment section exploded. Thousands of replies poured in within minutes.
Dancing Basketball Player:
Is it really that good? The explanation's so detailed it's actually tempting me.
Savage Nomad:
Too hardcore. Starting as a spore is insane. Do they expect us to read Darwin just to play?
Demanding Cutie:
Wow! Even someone bad at studying like me wants to try. The freedom sounds unreal!
Super Tech Geek:
Honestly, the reviewer hasn't even scratched the surface. That giant he mentioned—what's the deal with that? All his species so far are evolutionary failures.
Cerebral Bluff:
I just bought The Origin of Species! Soon I'll outclass biology professors. All I need now is a beta slot—please, I'm begging!
Some were excited. Some pleaded. Others mocked it outright, calling it an elaborate roleplay staged by a hundred people.
Then came the turning point.
Akinas Speedster started live-streaming directly through his VR headset.
The screen filled with an endless blue ocean—vast, deep, and uncannily real, like a high-budget documentary.
"Alright, I've evolved vision again," his voice echoed. "That part's easy now. Next step is hunting algae-based organisms and transitioning into a carnivore—similar to Earth's Cambrian arthropods."
Suddenly, a massive beetle-like creature swam into view.
The chat exploded.
> "What the hell is that?! Looks like a trilobite!"
"Don't fight it! You're still weak—run!"
"Evolution takes patience! One wrong step and you're extinct!"
The thread detonated across the internet.
Felix watched the chaos with a faint, amused smile.
Let them talk.
As for the petition with over ten thousand signatures begging for more beta slots?
"Not my problem," he muttered. "I'm not here to make money."
He closed the forum without hesitation.
This was still just a side project. Its sudden popularity meant nothing to him. He didn't need that many players.
Unless something truly unexpected happened, the beta would remain capped at one hundred—forever.
Turning back to the large sandbox, Felix's expression grew serious.
That world was what truly mattered.
The previous era had ended with the rise and fall of the Sumerians. Only three true super-beings had appeared—Gilgamesh and two other kings.
That wasn't enough.
He needed a system capable of producing supernatural power.
Ideally… magic.
Back then, Gilgamesh had commissioned a court mage to brew an elixir of immortality. That failed experiment could be considered the earliest spark of arcane science.
Felix now hoped for the rise of a true magic civilization—one with a genius mage who could explore alchemy, medicine, and spellcraft.
Someone who might even cure his cancer.
But miracles required catalysts.
Dangerous species. Irrational evolution. Creatures that broke natural rules.
His gaze drifted to the swamp.
"…Only a day has passed," Felix murmured, "and the Evil Eye has already evolved?"
His interest sharpened.
In just a century of accelerated time, the grotesque eyeball creatures had multiplied explosively. With no predators and endless resources, they dominated the swamp.
Then came overpopulation.
Resources thinned. Competition turned violent. The Evil Eyes began devouring one another, plunging their species into chaos.
From that carnage, a mutation emerged.
A variant with no intelligence—but a terrifying ability.
Its gaze could pacify other creatures, dulling their resistance and turning them into obedient prey.
Felix watched intently as the mutant climbed the food chain.
With no natural enemies, it spread rapidly. Ordinary Evil Eyes were helpless before it and were swiftly wiped out.
The swamp was no longer theirs.
It now belonged to this hypnotic subspecies—predators that ruled through charm and consumption.
"A psychic force without reason," Felix murmured. "Fascinating. Like a living Venus flytrap. No brain—yet it manipulates others into feeding it."
After four evolutionary eras, the world's first true supernatural species had appeared.
But the surprises weren't over.
As Felix continued observing the sandbox, something else caught his eye.
Primitive Bugapes… were entering the swamp.