The moment the announcement appeared, the entire sandbox descended into chaos.
Most players hadn't even made it to land yet. They were still trapped in the starting ocean—dying, respawning, and drowning all over again. A lucky few had finally crawled ashore, barely evolved into amphibians, and were in the middle of excitedly discussing the rumored giant—
Then everything went wrong.
Swish.
Three seconds later, the world went dark.
"F*ck!"
Across the real world, players ripped off their VR headsets in rage. Some were seconds away from smashing them against the wall.
What they didn't know was that their complaints had been heard—clearly—by the god of their world himself.
And as the saying went: ask, and you shall receive.
---
Future Skywhale:
What the hell?! No warning at all?! Garbage devs! First time I've seen a game this bad. I'm done! Who's with me? Let's storm their HQ and drag them out!
Akinas Speedster:
Relax. This "casual game" has always been hardcore. Welcome to suffering.
Hands Off:
Give it an hour. You'll all be back posting "Best. Game. Ever."
Despite the raging complaints, not a single player quit.
If anything, their obsession only deepened.
Felix scrolled through the forum calmly, his expression unreadable.
Let them scream. He wasn't their friend. He was their creator. An indifferent god enjoying free labor.
Meanwhile, players who hadn't gotten in yet were still begging for slots.
Crazy African:
If it's too hardcore for you, hand over your slot! I don't need sleep!
Demanding Little Beauty:
If you're quitting, pass the account to someone worthy. Thanks!
But no one rage-quit. Not one.
Soon, the topic shifted back to the real obsession—the giant.
---
Akinas Speedster:
Anyone else notice how wild this game is? That giant was literally eating lunch in someone's backyard.
Hands Off:
That's realism, idiot. If he eats, he has routines. Probably an AI god. We just need to evolve and beat him.
Akinas Speedster:
Beat him? Not now. But think about it—if he eats, he has a weakness.
Future Skywhale:
You're not suggesting poison, right? There's no poison mechanic.
Akinas Speedster:
Then we evolve one. Neurotoxins. Venom bugs. We sneak into his lunchbox. He eats us. Boom—divine diarrhea.
Future Skywhale:
…That's messed up. I'm in.
Akinas Speedster:
I'll study snakes, scorpions, parasites. We evolve into something that looks like literal crap and poison his food.
Hands Off:
Legend.
Cute Girl Who'll Become a Dragon:
This guy's a genius!
---
Felix stared at the screen.
"…You've got guts."
He chuckled softly.
"Last time you wanted to crap on my head. Now you want to poison my lunch?"
He mentally wrote down a few names.
Good luck, buddy. You're officially memorable.
With a casual flick, Felix shut down Spore Evolution. The Land of Genesis was wiped clean. The players vanished.
Peace returned.
---
Felix stepped outside, picked up a white rubber pipe—no thicker than a finger—and walked into his backyard.
"If I'm entering the large sandbox as a player," he muttered, gripping a hoe, "I'll need a passage."
Half an hour later, the work was done.
A ten-meter underground pipe now connected the small sandbox to the large one.
The Cosmic Pathway.
Only Felix could see it.
Only Felix could use it.
No scheming insects. No poop-based assassins.
Back inside, Felix slipped on his VR headset and logged in.
Username: Vengeful Creator
He pressed Start.
Darkness swallowed him. His body floated. Then a familiar prompt appeared.
> "Please evolve your eyes."
Not long after, he crawled onto land.
Felix looked down—and froze.
"…What the hell is this?"
He looked like a crow.
Not a majestic one. A clumsy, long-feathered, three-eyed crow—with a vertical eye on its forehead. Worse, he couldn't even fly properly. Just short, pathetic glides of three or four meters.
"So I'm just as screwed as the players," he muttered.
Disappointed, he asked, "Hive Mind. Be honest—does this thing have any potential?"
The Tyranis Hive Mind replied instantly:
> "Probability of supernatural evolution: extremely low.
This organism is malformed. A failure."
Felix almost choked.
"That's harsh."
Still, he accepted it. Evolution wasn't kind. The Evil Eye had been a miracle—one in billions.
"I don't need a miracle," he said quietly. "I just need to move."
With that, he waddled into the hidden passage.
After a long, dark crawl through the Cosmic Pathway, light burst forth.
Felix emerged into a vast green world.
Towering trees. Dense undergrowth. Distant roars of monstrous beasts hunting prey.
A raw, untamed land—like something pulled straight from the Paleozoic Era.
"I'm finally inside my own sandbox," Felix murmured, claws clicking against the soil.
From above, he already knew where to go.
He spread his wings and began his journey.
Toward the Babylonian tribe.