Chronic illness, the relentless torture of chemotherapy, and the loss of his parents had left Ethan feeling utterly drained, both physically and mentally. Each day felt monotonous, leading him to question the value of his life. Yet, as he faced his final days, something unexpected sparked his interest: the study of evolution.
"We are companions in dying," he mused to himself, the weight of his thoughts pressing down. "The great queen has gone on ahead, and soon, I will follow in her footsteps. But before that, I must use her power to create an evolutionary sandbox in the yard, spending my final days in joyful exploration."
A small laugh escaped him, the sound almost foreign after so much despair. "This almost feels like a sandbox game, Minecraft. Building my own world, nurturing it to life."
Determined, Ethan unearthed a dusty tricycle from a corner of the yard. He pushed himself to pedal into town, panting as if he were an old man struggling with the burden of age. After spending about 3,500 to 4,700 euros of his dwindling savings, he returned home with a pile of landscaping equipment. A flicker of excitement ignited within him as he set to work in his courtyard.
The area he chose for his sandbox was modest, a mere 100 square meters, but it was enough.
With a garden hose and hoe, he shaped small mountains, carved fresh-water rivers, and dug caverns—each movement a blend of labor and hope.
Then came the high-temperature eductor, which he had acquired for this very purpose. Inch by inch, he grilled the entire area, eradicating any potential flora and fauna. "I must ensure that Earth's existing life forms won't interfere with the evolution of the Tyranis spores," he muttered, determination in his voice.
He knew the microorganisms could be problematic, but thankfully, he had learned that they would simply be assimilated by the Tyranis spores, evolving into new species rather than disrupting his plans.
Finally, he focused on the ocean, the cradle of life itself. In the center of the sandbox, he dug a large pond measuring 40 square meters and poured in the salt he had purchased, ensuring the salt-to-water ratio mimicked that of seawater.
However, a significant challenge loomed before him.
"This isn't a round planet, but a square sandbox with a surface area of 100 square meters," he pondered aloud. He recalled an ancient Chinese saying: "The Sky is Round, and the Earth is Square."
"The mythical land, huh?" Ethan scratched his head, feeling the weight of his illness. It took him a grueling week of labor to complete the setup of the sandbox. On the morning of the seventh day, he commanded the Tyranis Hive to begin mass producing spores, which he carefully deposited into the ocean at the center of his creation.
"Let the evolution begin," he declared, a newfound vigor in his voice.
"Accelerate cell division by 10,000 units!" he instructed the Hive, the excitement palpable. One unit turned a day into a year, so 10,000 units would compress a single day into the equivalent of 10,000 years. Yet, he felt the flutter of uncertainty. Could new species arise under such accelerated conditions? Was it even possible to replicate Earth's Cambrian explosion in such a humble sandbox?
After all, the timescale was vastly different.
This miniature world existed in Ethan's yard, where the passage of the sun and moon remained unchanged. A single day translating into 10,000 years meant a day-and-night cycle stretching across 10,000 years—5,000 years of unrelenting daylight followed by 5,000 years of darkness.
What kind of species would emerge in such a uniquely harsh environment?
On the first day, the pond remained undisturbed, its water so clear that he could see the bottom.
The second day passed without a whisper of change.
The third day. Silence.
The fourth day. Nothing.
Finally, on the fifth day, a transformation began. Plankton appeared in Ethan's ocean, causing the water to become visibly cloudy, an indication of life awakening within.
On the sixth day, those plankton evolved, transforming into green, flea-sized organisms. The green hue of life began to spread throughout the artificial ocean, filling it with a sense of vitality.
"Mother Hive, initiate genetic locks on the spore-born organisms to limit their size!" Ethan instructed, his brow furrowing in concentration. The yard was small; he couldn't afford for these creatures to grow too large.
Though, according to Earth's evolutionary history, this early stage should yield only plankton or microbes, he felt it prudent to impose size limits in advance. The Tyranis Queen had warned him—evolving to become larger was the wrong path.
"Smaller bodies will foster greater energy transformations," he reminded himself.
With their size now locked, he knew that true to their insect heritage, the ordinary Tyranis species would not exceed the size of ants. Even if they evolved to the level of a dinosaur, they wouldn't grow larger than a cat.
A cat-sized insect was already extraordinary, and in a 100 square meter sandbox, that was equivalent to an expansive province for ant-sized creatures.
As the sixth day wore on, the great upheaval began.
An evolutionary journey that spanned nearly 3.8 billion years condensed into a mere six days. On the dawn of the seventh day, what could be likened to the Cambrian explosion commenced!
Plankton multiplied in the ocean, engaging in fierce competition for space. Ethan felt as if he were witnessing an ecological documentary on fast forward—life forms emerging one after another, growing, maturing, and dying, all in the blink of an eye.
The seawater became murky, dense with life.
But as dusk fell, an unsettling worry gripped him. "It's getting dark," he thought, gazing at the miniature world and then looking up at the darkening sky. The last remnants of sunlight painted the corners of the yard in a blood-red hue, a foreboding omen of the impending apocalypse.
Accelerated cell division and evolution could not replicate the rhythms of nature. He had condensed 10,000 years into one day; now, 5,000 years of daylight would soon give way to 5,000 years of darkness.
During this dark epoch, the newborn aquatic plants would be deprived of sunlight and inevitably perish.
"Unless… unless they can evolve to photosynthesize at night," he whispered, hope mingling with dread.
As night fell, the ocean's surface underwent a dramatic shift. The flourishing plants, deprived of sunlight, wilted and sank to the ocean floor. Vast swathes of green disappeared beneath the surface, leaving behind a desolate sea.
"The first extinction event has begun? I didn't expect it to happen so quickly," Ethan breathed out, a mix of concern and awe flooding his mind. He recalled the Earth's long evolutionary history, which had endured five extinction events—the most famous being the Cretaceous-Paleogene Extinction that marked the end of the dinosaurs. At that time, eighty percent of Earth's species had perished.
His sandbox world's first mass extinction, however, was precipitated by the loss of direct sunlight. The onset of night plunged the tiny ecosystem into 5,000 years of darkness.
"Hold on, my courageous spores!!!" Ethan urged, sitting quietly beside the courtyard, gazing at the lifeless ocean before him. "My dear world, don't die just because you lack sunlight. You've only just begun to evolve aquatic plants."
Earth, a vast planet teeming with life, had witnessed countless species thrive under the principle of survival of the fittest. Its ecosystems were resilient, able to weather even the direst extinction events.
But his sandbox was different—the environment was too small.
Truthfully, even if the aquatic plants filled the pond, there were only hundreds of thousands of them. Following Darwinian theory, a new species better suited to the environment could not evolve from such a limited gene pool. Yet, Ethan remained hopeful, for these plants had emerged from the Tyranis cells, known for their adaptability.
He waited in silence.
Moonlight spilled over the courtyard, casting a pale glow upon the dark ocean. After about half an hour, a faint blue hue began to emerge on the water's surface, previously littered with dead vegetation.
A new species had been born.
Basking in the moonlight, the newborn plants began to photosynthesize!