The Flying Continent

"The wasteland lifeforms have already begun their migration, but at their speed, reaching the Great Western Continent will be extremely difficult. Many are bound to die along the way."

In the study, Lin Tuo looked down at the sandbox continent.

Countless black dots swarming out from cities and forests gathered together, like pitch-black rivers, or perhaps like arrows.

From different directions, they headed straight for the Great Western Continent.

"Mm, I still need to help them relocate."

Lin Tuo pondered to himself. After a moment's thought, he turned and pulled a fresh sheet of printer paper from his desk, then carefully cut it into strips of suitable size with a small knife. He picked up one strip and gently placed it into the sandbox.

The Wasteland.

On the central plains, a vast migrating procession of humans and animals intermingled as they trudged across the icy snowfield. Flocks of birds swept overhead in the sky.

Compared to the beasts, the Evolvers in the procession fared better, but the refugees struggled immensely.

They lacked sufficient clothing to withstand the cold, and even more so, they lacked food. Many were frail or disabled.

At first, they could barely keep up with the group, but gradually, their strength failed them, and some even collapsed mid-march.

"We're too far from the Great Western Continent. There's no way we can make it." Among the group, some Evolvers were less affected and still retained clear thinking.

Seeing the humans lagging behind, they couldn't help but worry.

"Ah! Look!" Suddenly, someone in the procession shouted in shock.

As if witnessing something utterly unbelievable.

People immediately raised their heads and looked ahead.

They saw clouds rolling in the sky, and abruptly, an enormous, strangely shaped landmass descended from the heavens, landing steadily in front of the migrating procession, perfectly merging with the frozen wasteland.

"Is it a god?"

"Could this be... the New Continent?"

Such thoughts arose in their minds. Combined with the "divine decree" that had recently covered the entire continent, this was clearly the work of a deity.

Unlike the humans, the less intelligent beasts didn't hesitate at all. They kept running and surged onto that "land" made of paper.

Seeing this, the humans dared not delay either. They scrambled to climb onto the warm, rough, pale, and peculiar ground.

Outside the sandbox.

Lin Tuo waited for a moment, confirming that this migrating group had fully covered the paper strip. Then he pinched it, keeping his hand steady, and slowly moved it toward the Mountain Range of the Great Western Continent.

Though the paper carried a great number of lives, the weight was still within bearable limits.

The vibrations from the ascent immediately caused countless lives on the paper strip to stumble and fall, their faces filled with terror as they instinctively cried out.

Some humans clinging to the edge of the paper strip gripped the uneven surface of the "land" beneath them tightly, their eyes wide as they watched the shrinking wasteland below.

Then, they noticed that the "land" beneath their feet stopped rising after reaching a certain height and instead shifted rapidly westward. The mountains and rivers below blurred like illusions, speeding backward.

"Look! That's Old Kyoto!"

"That's Great Mang Mountain!"

"Lightless City!"

People marveled at this unprecedented perspective, gazing at the familiar yet strange buildings and landmarks on the ground, as well as the desolate and barren wasteland.

"Is this the world we live in?"

Most of the humans in the procession, especially the refugees, had never left the places they lived. Their fantasies of distant lands existed only in the fragmented tales of Wasteland Hunters.

They knew this land was not good.

They knew this world was terrible.

They knew this was a wasteland abandoned by the gods.

But only at this moment, riding on this land made of white paper and looking down at the earth, did they finally realize what their world truly looked like.

"Many years ago, this world wasn't like this.

Back then, the four seasons were distinct, not like now, where winter takes up most of the year... Back then, those ruins were lively, bustling cities.

Citizens worked in factories, in companies, in government offices. Children studied in schools. When people got sick or injured, they went to hospitals for treatment...

Young people chased fashion. Lovers—young men and women—wore different clothes every day..."

At the edge of the paper strip.

An old man who had lived since the Old Era sat crouched on the "ground," his sparse, graying hair fluttering in the wind.

In truth, he was less than fifty years old, but the harsh environment of the wasteland had aged him to look like a septuagenarian.

He stared at the world rapidly retreating behind him, thin tears trickling from his clouded eyes:

"Back then, I was an Imperial Pilot. Heh, that was a top-notch job—bright prospects, very popular with the girls. Until the Cataclysm... everything was gone."

Beside him, a scrawny child stared blankly at the earth, then at the old man, his face full of confusion.

Born as a refugee in the wasteland era, he couldn't understand the "Old Era" the old man spoke of at all. He only felt that within his withered body, his still-young blood was surging.

They kept flooding into his mind, making him want to shout, want to cheer.

"Waa... ahh..."

And so he finally cheered, drawing more refugees to join in the shouting, even though they themselves had no idea why they were yelling or why they were crying.

Amid the cries, the land beneath their feet rose up into a range of white peaks.

That was the Mountain Range of the west—they had arrived at the Great Western Continent.

Then, the "land" beneath them began to descend, slowly, toward a massive valley at the edge of the continent.

Humans and animals screamed in terror, clutching each other, staring at the approaching mountains and the "Glazed Lamp" that still gleamed brilliantly even under the overcast sky.

"Look!"

"God, what is that?"

"Scatter! Get out of the way!"

On the ground, atop the peaks, the Evolvers of "Burning Fire Company," "Gray Mountain Group," and "Floating Apocalypse" had barely regained their senses when they saw the strange land descending from the sky.

And they saw, densely packed upon it, an endless sea of humans and beasts.

The sight was so shocking that even the most hardened Evolvers rolled on the ground without dignity, scrambling to flee.

But soon, all living creatures realized their worries were unfounded.

The invisible hand that controlled the entire "land" was so gentle, so careful, even "warm" as it set them down in the valley.

"What are they shouting about?" Outside the Sandbox, in the study, Lin Tuo carefully placed this first wave of migrants among the mountains, then finally let out a breath.

He had been so afraid his hands would tremble that he'd even held his breath.

"Forget it, I'll deal with that later." Shaking his head, he set aside the small doubt in his mind, picked up another slip of paper from the desk, and fixed his gaze on another migrating group:

"You're next, second wave... Tch, looks like I've still got plenty to do."