After reopening the sandbox server, Ethan let the players do whatever they wanted. If they dared complain again, he'd just pull the plug and suspend the game permanently. Simple.
He had other things to do anyway.
Fresh from his evening magic practice, he returned home drenched in sweat, like a runner cooling off after a jog. After a hot shower, he emerged from the bathroom with nothing but a towel and a pair of navy shorts.
The air was cool, his body felt light, and the house was quiet.
He was curious to see how the sandbox was handling the arrival of the Phoenix and its fiery kin. A few hours in the real world had already translated into decades in the sandbox—but not enough for anything major to unfold yet. With nothing pressing to do, Ethan sat back in his chair, cracked open a cold drink, and logged into the game forums to snoop.
"You always have to spy on the enemy camp." He grinned to himself. Last time, if he hadn't stumbled upon Akinas Speedster's "Operation: Chicken Poison," he might've ended up dead. Death by dinner. Not exactly dignified.
So, intelligence-gathering was essential.
Unsurprisingly, the forum was ablaze.
Besides the usual rage at the mid-day emergency server shutdown, the hot topic was everyone's collective trauma from the failed boss fight.
Cerebral Bluff:
> "This is the most tragic raid wipe in gaming history. I can't feel my spine."
Haruko Loves To Learn:
> "The first beta players didn't lie to us… They promised a surprise, and they delivered! Now we're all spores again. United at square one!"
---
Players flooded the forum with their horror stories. Death in Spore Evolution wasn't your average respawn—oh no, it was pain. Glorious, cinematic, full-body suffering.
One player's story stood out like a tragic comedy masterpiece:
> "I screamed so loud when I died that my mom came running into my room crying. She asked what was wrong.
'I'm just playing a relaxing, educational game,' I said.
'Then why are you crying and twitching like a man possessed?'
I panicked and told her I had an epiphany about Darwin's theory of evolution.
Now she's telling the neighbors that her son made it into a $600,000 educational program for elite researchers.
She says I've surpassed the grad students at top universities.
I just screamed for my life because a rooster tried to poison a god."
The comments beneath were brutal:
> "Bro, you gave your mom a lie worthy of a PhD thesis."
"I'm laughing and crying. You deserve an Oscar."
"My wife asked why I was weeping. I told her it was from loving this hardcore game too much."
---
Elsewhere in the forum, another wildfire was spreading.
Players had started uploading photos of the "Book of Genesis"—the mysterious notebook from the boss's lap. Each photo showed one of the five recorded eras of civilization: The Dark Age, The Radiant Age, The Revival Age, The Genesis Age, and now—the Age of Magic.
Future Skywhale posted:
> "Guys… what if we're actually the sixth era?
What if we're supposed to evolve entire civilizations?
Not just survive—but create gods?"
The thread exploded.
> "That's insane."
"I'm getting goosebumps."
"This game has the freedom of Minecraft, the lore of Dark Souls, and the pain tolerance of Elden Ring—I'm in love."
But then, a new message appeared across everyone's screens:
> [Global System Notice: Congratulations to the player 'Akinas Speedster' for evolving the species 'Pallbearer Chicken'. The species has great potential and qualifies for the Achievement System reward.]
The forum lost its mind.
> "Bossman got a system-wide reward?!"
"Please share pics!"
"Three cheers for our chicken-themed savior!"
Even Akinas Speedster himself was confused.
> "Wait. I got a reward? For real? My baldness finally paid off?"
He launched a livestream immediately:
> Room Name: [LIVE] I Got the First Evolution Reward?! Come See What It Is!
Viewers flooded in—over 600,000 in minutes.
He logged into the game, and three glowing options appeared before him:
1. Species Start: Begin each new life as a Pallbearer Chicken instead of a spore.
2. Permanent Account: Immunity from elimination and guaranteed access forever.
3. Second Life: [Details: Unknown.]
---
The chat erupted.
> "The first one's genius. Choose your evolved species as your base form!"
"Second one's a flex. That's $600,000 in computing time!"
"Third one sounds mysterious. Could be good… could be eternal hell."
Akinas weighed his options.
The first was tempting. Restarting as a fully-formed evolved species gave a massive head start. The third was… spooky. Too vague.
He went with the first.
A new screen unfolded:
Choose your starting form:
Spore
Pallbearer Chicken
He picked chicken. The screen changed, and a customization screen opened with a blazing red rooster strutting in the center. He adjusted its appearance and clicked enter.
The livestream viewers erupted in cheers.
> "The Bossman can customize his race! We're still single-celled amoebas!"
"I swear, this game just became Spore + Skyrim + Darwin Simulator."
Akinas, grinning like a king, logged into the sandbox—reborn as the most delicious biological weapon ever created.
He strutted through the grasslands with his flock in tow, proud and puffed.
---
Boom. Boom.
The earth shook.
A shadow fell across the land.
It was him. The godlike giant.
Ethan had returned.
He was taking a stroll through the yard, saw the familiar feathered flock—and his eyes lit up.
> "Hey! That's the food from last time.
Man, those birds were delicious. I should catch a few and make soup later tonight."
A massive hand reached down.
In a single motion, half the flock vanished.
---
Akinas Speedster: "?!?!?!"
Chatroom: "?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!"
Panic.
> "WHY IS HE EATING US AGAIN?!"
"IS THIS A JOKE?!"
"NOOOO!! HE'S CAMPING OUR RESPAWN!!!"
Akinas stared at the screen, hollow-eyed. His newly-rewarded body was on the verge of becoming dinner. Again.
He looked at the chat in despair.
> "I should've made them taste like sewage. What was I thinking, making a gourmet-grade toxin?!"
> "I'm not a warrior… I'm just a cursed entrée."
Ethan, meanwhile, plucked another chicken from the ground and hummed a tune.
> "Midnight snack secured.
Honestly, these chickens are a gift that keeps on giving."