Early the next morning
Ethan rolled out of bed and stretched. Outside his window, the courtyard was lush with green vines and fresh morning dew.
He loved this kind of quiet, pastoral life—doing simple farm chores, tending to plants, and raising adorable animals. It was a peaceful, cozy routine. Well, except for the fact that the animals he cared for weren't exactly normal.
Even if someone walked into his courtyard, they wouldn't be able to see the strange, miniature world hidden there—unless Ethan allowed it. The Mother Hive was incredibly good at manipulating perception. It could easily cloud a human's mind. Without that, managing the Tyranis would be impossible.
After a quick shower, he stood in front of the bathroom mirror, studying himself.
He looked... better. Healthier.
The hair he'd lost from chemotherapy was finally growing back. His skin, once washed-out and pale, had regained some color. Reflected in the mirror was a sharp-featured young man with a well-toned, athletic build. He looked strong—although still a bit ghostly, like a vampire who'd skipped a few meals.
"I've finally started recovering," he murmured to himself. "It's been over two weeks since I stopped chemo. My body's bounced back, my skin looks healthier, and my hair's coming in... Must be from the energy feedback when the Tyranis died."
He closed his eyes and extended his senses.
When a Tyranis died, its life force and soul energy flowed back into him. The stronger the creature, the more powerful that energy. His current boost came from the recent extinction events—the end of the Dark Age, followed closely by the fall of the Radiant Age.
Most of the creatures that had perished were primitive. But there had been so many. The sheer quantity made up for their low quality. He'd just finished absorbing their energy the night before.
"And best of all... I have hair again."
A grin spread across his face. For the first time in a while, things felt like they were turning around.
"I'm finally past the worst of the chemo. My body's strong again. But... even with all this soul energy, the cancer is still there. The stronger I get, the stronger it grows too."
Still, he was in a good mood.
He hopped on his bike and rode to the far side of town for breakfast. Afterward, he took a long walk through the village, down an old dirt path lined with rice paddies and the occasional pile of cow dung. The smell of earth and fresh grass filled the air. The countryside always made him feel nostalgic.
An older woman with a round face and a basket of vegetables stopped him mid-walk.
"Ethan? Is that really you?" she said, squinting. "Mia told me you were back, but I didn't believe it!"
Ethan stopped and gave her a polite smile.
"I heard you've been sick... cancer, right?" she asked, her voice dropping slightly.
"Yeah," he said with a small nod.
"Oh, dear! That's awful!" she said, clearly distressed. "You're the only child left in the family, aren't you? What are we going to do? Actually—my daughter's a lovely girl, you know. Look here—"
Are you kidding me?
So you hear I have terminal cancer and your first thought is... set me up for marriage? Make sure I have kids before I die? How thoughtful.
Then again, maybe she really was that close to his family. He didn't even recognize her, but she clearly thought of him like a son.
Still. Offering your daughter to a dying man? Bit much.
Or maybe you're just hoping to inherit whatever cash I have stashed away.
Nice try.
Just because I'm not bald anymore doesn't mean I'm stupid.
Ethan opened his mouth to turn her down when someone cut in from behind.
It was Mia, accompanied by two middle-aged women, her round face full of exasperation.
"Oh my god, leave him alone!" she snapped. "My mom said the pig lady was bothering Ethan again, and here you are. Trying to marry off your daughter? Please. That girl's hideous, has a temper like a kicked bull, and beat her own husband! He ran off! And now you want Ethan to take his place? Seriously?"
"You brat!" the older woman snapped. "Say that again and see what happens!"
But when she glanced at the other women, who were all glaring at her, she bit her tongue and stormed off.
Mia turned to Ethan. "You seriously need to avoid that woman. She's the only one in the village who's a total menace—Whoa."
She stared at him.
"Wait... what the hell? What happened to you?"
"What?" he said, playing dumb.
"You weren't like this two days ago! You were balding. Bald. Like, shiny-head bald. Now you look like you walked out of some shojo romance manga. What the hell, Ethan!?"
Mia's mother—Auntie Li—was standing nearby. Ethan remembered her well. She gave Mia a sharp look, then smiled warmly at him.
"Mia, don't be rude! Ethan's always been handsome. He's just... grown into his looks a bit more. Come, Ethan, why don't you come sit with us for a while at my place?"
"Yes, come along!" the other aunties chimed in with wide smiles. "Let's all go together!"
"No, seriously!" Mia protested. "Mom, he looked totally different the other day. He was bald! And his back was all hunched! He looked like a sick old man!"
"My daughter!" Auntie Li scolded. "How could you talk like that about Ethan? Bald or not, he's still family!"
Ethan raised an eyebrow. He felt pretty great, actually.
There was something about being mistaken for a vampire one week and a manga heartthrob the next that just really hit different.
He didn't have the heart to refuse them. He joined them at Auntie Li's traditional courtyard house and sat down. The women chatted nonstop, animated and cheerful. When they found out he really had cancer, their mood shifted. They scolded him for not taking care of himself after his parents passed and insisted he take time to rest and recover.
People in the village were simple. Honest. Kind.
Since he started working in the city, he'd barely returned home. Now, surrounded by familiar voices and worried aunties who'd watched him grow up, he felt something he hadn't in a long time: peace.
Before he left, they stuffed his arms with vegetables, fruits, and homemade food.
"Stay home, child. Rest. Don't push yourself too hard," one of them said gently. "You'll recover. We believe it."
Ethan smiled and nodded. "Yeah. I will."
"He's a clone! He has to be!" Mia declared later, sprawled dramatically across a wooden bench. "I mean, okay—maybe I can believe the hair growing back. But this? This glow-up is outrageous! He used to be okay looking. Now he's like... anime-level hot! There's no way that's natural!"
Ethan pretended not to hear her. He kept his cool, aloof expression.
But inside?
He was grinning like an idiot.
Their kindness had touched him. More than he'd expected. He'd made up his mind—he was done with city life. He wanted to stay. To settle in the countryside. To live simply, quietly, surrounded by warm voices and soft light.
Later that evening, after chatting a bit more with the neighbors, he finally returned home. He told them he'd be staying at his family's old estate to recover—and that they'd see him around more often.
The moment he stepped through the door, he rushed straight to the sandbox.
It was time to check on the Bugapes.
Even though he'd slowed the artificial evolution process, time still moved differently in the sandbox. One real day equaled a full century in their world—fifty years of light, fifty of dark.
"I've been gone most of the day," he muttered. "That's about eighty years in their time."
He climbed up onto a chair by the door and grabbed his binoculars, peering across the yard at the distant sandbox world.
He avoided entering it directly—his physical presence always triggered massive ecological disruptions.
"Wait... what is this?"
He squinted. The Bugapes had developed rudimentary tribal structures. They'd started living in groups. Language was beginning to take shape. Culture was emerging.
But even with all this progress...
They were on the edge of extinction.