"It's good to finally have modern appliances at home."
Xu Zhi lounged in his yard as the washing machine rattled to a stop beside him. He pulled out the damp clothes and hung them one by one on the line, then eased into the creaky chair by his door, peeling an apple under the sun.
"Hive Mind," he said, eyes drifting toward the clear water of the sandbox pond, "didn't you mention that a player's already entered the simulation?"
Of course, he couldn't see them. At this point, the player was still nothing more than a single-celled spore—microscopic and insignificant.
Within the sandbox, spores came and went like sparks in a fire. Constantly evolving, constantly dying. The players were just a fresh batch of contenders tossed into the eternal struggle for survival.
"What happens if a player quits midway?" he asked idly.
The Hive Mind answered in its calm, metallic voice:
"If the player disconnects, their spore continues to evolve autonomously, guided by instinct and probability. When they return, they may no longer recognize the lifeform they began with."
"Fair enough," Xu Zhi said with a shrug.
It was supposed to be a casual sim game anyway. People had real lives to live—logging out mid-session was only natural.
And if you lost? Just start over. Try again. See what weird new creature you could become next. That, too, was part of the fun.
Honestly, most players wouldn't last more than a few hours. Without a deep understanding of evolutionary theory, it was unlikely they'd survive long against the sandbox's naturally selected apex organisms.
Xu Zhi grinned darkly.
"I'll just wait until they evolve something decent… then steal their work. Plagiarize the fruits of their labor. I'm sure my Bugapes will outperform whatever junk they manage to cook up."
The Hive Mind offered a dry response:
"Species born through artificial genetic engineering typically possess less long-term evolutionary potential than those shaped by natural selection."
"...So you're saying theirs might be better than mine?"
Xu Zhi paused, momentarily offended. He let out a slow sigh.
"Fine. We'll see. Hopefully, they make something interesting enough to at least compete with my Bugapes."
He turned his gaze back to the pond.
"Come on, new species... show me something worthwhile."
So far, the only player to enter had repeatedly died in the earliest stages. Bored, Xu Zhi shifted his attention to the broader sandbox.
The Great Flood had scoured the world clean. Civilization was in ruins, and it would take centuries to recover.
With the simulation running at one-hundred times acceleration, that meant only a few days in reality.
In the aftermath, Utnapishtim had become a wise and noble leader, taking on the mantle of rebuilding after the fall of Sumer. He led his surviving people to the ruined plains of Mesopotamia and founded a new settlement.
A century later, his grandson Ishbiela inherited the role of chieftain. Ambitious and brilliant, he renamed their tribe:
Babylon.
That name would echo through history.
The age of the Sumerians had passed—brilliant and brief, a spark in the dark. The Magus Kingdom of Babylon, however, would endure for generations to come.
Meanwhile, in the real world, Chen Wenshan was getting his ass kicked.
He had died countless times. His early offspring were wiped out before they even managed to evolve eyes. Eventually, he succeeded—barely—adding a mouth and some weak sensory organs. Then he died again.
No limbs. No hunting tools. Just a sad, floating blob.
"F*ck this game. It's way too hardcore!" he groaned, throwing off his VR headset.
Even so... he couldn't stop. The game was too good. The ultra-realistic sensory feedback. The infinite potential of evolutionary paths. Every failure only made him want to try again.
"Extinct again!? My eyes were too small! Fine, I'll evolve huge, beautiful eyes next time!"
Fueled by frustration and spite, he stormed off to the college library. People were stunned to see him—the game-obsessed Chen Wenshan—digging through complex biology textbooks.
Evolutionary Chemistry. Biogenetics. Advanced simulation theory.
Nobody could believe it. He was studying seriously.
Half a day later, equipped with basic theory and sheer determination, he managed to create something that lived.
Slimy tentacles. Fanged mouth. And true to his word—a massive, grotesque eye.
His new creature was nothing more than a giant eyeball wrapped in squirming tendrils. Monstrous and hideous. But it survived.
"Hahahaha! I did it! Look at this glorious eye! Beautiful and huge!"
He guided the monstrosity toward the shore, his heart racing.
"What a stunning world…! The detail, the scope, the realism! I've finally evolved an amphibian! The world belongs to me!"
Elsewhere, Xu Zhi took another bite of his apple, lounging at the edge of his yard. He blinked.
Something weird was crawling out of the pond.
"What... the hell... is that thing?"
He squinted at the hideous creature climbing ashore.
"A giant eyeball with tentacles and fangs? Are you serious? That's your 'evolutionary breakthrough'? Naturally evolved species would never look like this! You obsessed freak. You just really, really wanted to see the world, huh?"
According to evolutionary logic, any organism that poured that many nutrients into an oversized eyeball should have been weeded out by natural selection long ago.
It was absolutely useless.
Xu Zhi laughed helplessly.
"What an abomination. A half-finished monstrosity. Still... I guess it does kind of look like an Evil Eye from myth."
He was amused.
Until—
"Hey!"
A knock sounded at the gate. It was Chen Xi. "Open up! I brought food!"
"One sec," Xu Zhi called.
He glanced down at the eldritch creature one last time, then casually stepped on it as he passed.
"Can't hesitate in this world."
In the simulation, Chen Wenshan's screen suddenly blinked red:
YOU HAVE DIED. PLEASE START OVER.
"...???"
He stared blankly.
I worked so hard. Evolved. Climbed ashore. I was about to begin world domination!
And then—bam! Game over!?
F*cking developers! Come out and fight me!!!
At the gate, Xu Zhi opened the door with a smile.
"Welcome back," he said.
Chen Xi stepped in, carrying warm food.
Life, both divine and mundane, went on.