The words on the virtual panel did not appear all at once.
The first line emerged, followed by a long pause before the second, and then another pause before the third.
During this time, Lin Tuo had not left the old house. Instead, he had pulled up a stool and sat patiently, curiously watching the sand table's changes.
Across those five hundred million years, the sandbox world had cycled through countless sunrises and moonlit nights, its simulated days and nights alternating without pause.
Because the landmass was so simple in composition, even such immense spans of time did not bore him.
In truth, those five hundred million years were not entirely devoid of change, as the logs suggested.
Though no life had yet arisen, there had been tectonic shifts: volcanoes erupted, lava flowed, and ash filled the skies.
Rivers steamed into mist, which condensed into rain.
Hills rose, plains collapsed, and the continental block lifted higher, altering the course of rivers.
And at the sandbox's edges stretched vast oceans.
With so many changes, Lin Tuo found the process anything but dull.
"Does the log only bother to record life? Everything else isn't worth noting?" he muttered, then shifted his gaze toward the sea—where the once-clear waters seemed to have grown faintly murky.
[At the fifth hundred millionth year of world evolution, the first simple life emerged in the oceans. Yet just as their kind began to spread, they were cut short by the planet's shifting climate.]
[The Great Glaciation had arrived.]
As the log inscribed this line, a blizzard swept across the barren sandbox world.
Time, accelerated, drove the transformation swiftly. The sandbox was blanketed in white.
The temperature plummeted.
The land froze beneath thick layers of ice, and even the seas themselves seemed locked in frost.
"Whew… cold," Lin Tuo exhaled, a chill brushing against him. In the sweltering summer, though, it was oddly refreshing.
"The sandbox can have an ice age?" He was taken aback. In his mind, this world's foundation was different from Earth's.
Earth, after all, began as a molten sphere, cooling gradually.
But this sandbox world had soil and water from the very beginning. Surely its evolution would follow another path.
Yet here it was—an ice age.
[The Great Glaciation lasted for 1,843 years. Then, as the climate warmed, the melting snow nourished the land. The seas thawed, life evolution resumed, oxygen levels rose, and algae spread across the oceans.]
Another line clicked into place on the log.
Lin Tuo watched as the chill faded from the sandbox. Snow and ice receded, lakes formed across the land, and rains fell frequently.
The oceans grew green—the sign of plant growth.
"Plants, already? Hm… and they're moving toward land now," he murmured, intrigued by the creeping green that spread from sea to shore.
Drawing on what little biology he knew, he guessed this was the transition from gymnosperms to angiosperms.
Unfortunately, the plants were far too small to observe clearly. Without a microscope, he could only make do with a magnifying glass, which was hardly sufficient.
So he set the thought aside.
As plants emerged, the log's updates came faster, and the sandbox's accelerated time seemed to slow slightly.
But compared to the outside world, its pace was still staggering.
"Already this late?" Lin Tuo looked up to find the room dimming with twilight. Beyond the windows, the sun was sinking, and somehow, an entire afternoon had slipped away.
Yet within the sandbox, it was still the age of proliferating plants.
"At this rate, no animals are appearing anytime soon." Estimating so, he stood, sighing. "I was supposed to clean the house this afternoon… and what have I actually done?"
Still, most rooms were tidied, with bedding and clothes intact. Utilities were still paid. It was livable enough.
The only problem was food.
He decided he would just eat in town below the mountain, or order delivery, at least for now.
"Dinner time," he muttered, locking the old house behind him. He walked down the mountain path, bathed in the glow of the setting sun.
By dusk, Mount Li was bathed in brilliant colors, the town below glowing with an almost anime-like beauty.
This was the place where he had grown up.
Nostalgia welled in him as he unconsciously made his way toward a snack shop he had loved as a student.
But as soon as he entered town, he sensed something was off.
Clusters of townsfolk stood on the streets, phones in hand, their conversations lively, their faces filled with astonishment and secrecy.
"…Have you heard? They confirmed that black box in the desert."
"Is that real? Sounds like a hoax…"
"Don't know. Wait for the news tonight—maybe it'll be covered."
The town was small. Just hearing a few snippets, Lin Tuo realized the same strange words—"black box," "desert"—were on everyone's lips.
"Has it spread already? Did my sandbox really affect reality?" He forced himself to look casual as he ordered dinner.
But unease lingered as he pulled out his phone and lifted its mute setting.
Instantly, a cascade of notifications poured in.
The lock screen was crowded with alerts—beyond the usual spam, nearly everything was group chat messages.
Opening the app, he blinked. Every chat group was lit with activity, many already showing 99+.
More messages poured in every second. With dinner hour freeing people's time, the chatter was relentless.
Clicking one at random, he found the conversation blazing hot:
"…Check the latest update—official media confirmed it!"
"No way. That's final, then. And to think people swore the videos were fake…"
"But how? The entire Taklamakan Desert, covered? Quietly? Without anyone noticing? I still can't believe it…"
Scrolling, Lin Tuo's eyes darkened.
He had expected this, yet seeing the real consequences unsettled him deeply.
Just as he feared, word had spread.
Switching apps, he opened Weibo.
At the top of the trending list: "Taklamakan Desert Black Box."
Half the list, in fact, was filled with related terms.
Clicking through, he saw the topic's views had already passed a billion.
Inflated or not, the sheer speed of its spread was undeniable.
Hot topics in this age traveled with terrifying speed.
Suppressing his emotions, he tapped the leading news post:
#Taklamakan Desert Black Box#According to the National Astronomical Observatory: at 3:17 PM today, a mysterious, irregular "black box" appeared over the Taklamakan Desert, covering it entirely.Four desert highways, along with certain facilities and personnel, were relocated outside by an unknown force… Authorities have confirmed the authenticity of the event and dispatched an investigation team.Citizens are urged to remain calm and avoid spreading rumors.
Lin Tuo exhaled softly.
As expected.
The moment he activated creation mode and chose the desert, Earth itself had shifted.
That so-called "black box" was none other than the Isolation Barrier of the Evolution Sand Table.
Such a massive anomaly could not be hidden. Even in a remote desert, it had shaken the world within hours.
Opening the video attached to the article, he saw footage taken outside a city.
The highway was jammed with stopped cars, people milling about in confusion.
In the distance loomed a colossal black wall, filling the entire frame.
As the camera panned, the sheer scale and majesty of the "sandbox shell" became undeniable.
On screen, a female reporter stood beneath the immense wall, microphone in hand, her voice raised against the howling wind:
"…As you can see, I am now at the northern edge of the Taklamakan Desert, standing on National Highway 318. Just hours ago, this road was nowhere near here…
Yes, according to satellite measurements, the entire highway has shifted north by a great distance."
"And behind me lies the so-called 'Great Wall' of this black box, enclosing the entire Taklamakan Desert.
We don't know what material it's made of. But from close observation, its surface is extraordinarily smooth, unnaturally resilient—it's clearly no known substance."
The desert winds whipped her hair as she shouted to be heard, her words barely audible over the gusts.
After her introduction, the camera turned, pointing the microphone toward a group nearby.
Lin Tuo blinked—some faces were oddly familiar. Soon, he recognized them as members of a domestic film crew. No wonder. He'd seen them in dramas before.
"Director Li, your crew was among the first to witness and report this anomaly. Can you describe what happened?"
The group, accustomed to cameras, handled the interview smoothly, though their strained expressions betrayed lingering shock.
"This is a miracle!" the director declared, voice trembling with intensity. Raising both arms, eyes blazing, he looked straight into the lens and enunciated:
"A miracle that will shake the entire world!"
(End of Chapter)