Episode 16: The Evolution of the Sandbone Beast

The sandstorm was like a tattered cloth soaked in ink, tightly shrouding the moon.

Just as Lu Chen pulled out the last wire, the sonic tower suddenly emitted a sharp "click." The tower twisted and collapsed visibly, its metal frame crashing onto the sand and sparking a shower of fiery embers. Chen Yu grinned, but a sudden chill ran down his neck—sand grains like shards of ice pelted his skin, and the wind carried a familiar, pungent sweetness far stronger and more intense than the camel corpse stench from before.

"Something's wrong!" Old Dao’s bone knife suddenly pointed toward the center of the sandstorm, the fractured edge gleaming coldly—the nick had formed when he struck the sonic tower. "There's something moving in there!"

Before he finished, a dull "thud-thud" echoed from within the storm, as if someone was hammering the ground with a massive hammer. Each strike sent a tremor through the sand beneath their feet; even the wreckage of the collapsed sonic tower trembled and jumped. Lu Chen grabbed the night vision goggles, and the image inside made his pupils constrict sharply:

A colossal creature emerged from the sandstorm, towering as high as a three-story building. Its back was covered in dense bone armor plates, each piece fashioned from the half-chest bones of ancient warriors, draped with rotting fragments of leather armor that fluttered like tattered flags in the wind. Its head was a massive beast skull, with eye sockets spewing "flames" made of swirling sand grains. When it opened its mouth, it didn’t breathe—rather, it shot arrow-shaped sand crystals in all directions, whizzing and embedding into the sand with small explosions. From the pits it created, rusty arrowheads were unearthed.

“It’s an evolved Sandbone Beast!” Lu Chen pulled Chen Yu behind the wreckage to hide. The sand crystal arrows zipped past their ears, striking the metal frame with bursts of blue light. “It absorbed the sonic tower’s energy!”

Old Dao’s bone knife vibrated in his palm, the glowing characters for “Bone Listener” shining with a purple hue. “This beast didn’t just absorb energy—it swallowed ancient battlefield bones! Look at the armor plates on its back—that’s the chest protector of a Turkic cavalryman!”

The Sandbone Beast roared as it advanced, each step shaking the ground. Suddenly, it raised its head and opened its mouth, firing dozens of sand crystal arrows like a yellow rainstorm. Lu Chen dragged Chen Yu, rolling and dodging behind the wreckage. The barrage rang out with clear metallic "clang" sounds as arrows struck the metal. Some pierced the thin sheet metal and embedded themselves less than half a meter away in the sand, their tails wrapped in tattered red silk—remnants of an ancient bride’s wedding dress.

“Damn it!” Old Dao’s eyes reddened as he charged forward, swinging his bone knife at the beast’s leg bone. He struck with full force, but the blade hit like granite. With a metallic “clang,” the notch in the bone knife widened, and only a white scar was left on the beast’s leg bone.

“Its bones are ten times harder!” Old Dao staggered back, blood oozing from between his fingers. “The infrasound mutated its bone density!”

The Sandbone Beast lowered its head, its bony eye sockets fixated on Old Dao, then suddenly spewed a dense sand mist. Old Dao hurriedly retreated as the mist settled where he had stood, instantly solidifying into a sand crystal shield. The shield was covered with fine vascular patterns, resembling the sonic tower’s protective barrier but darker and eerier in color.

“It learned to use a sand crystal shield!” Chen Yu threw the last two grenades. Blue flames struck the shield, producing only wisps of smoke before dying out. The beast shook its armor, and the rotting leather fragments fell off like living things, lunging toward Chen Yu. The edges of these fragments sparkled icy cold—they were clearly poisoned.

Lu Chen swung his blade to cut the leather fragments but noticed the golden light of his totem blade had dimmed significantly. Suddenly, he recalled Su Qing’s words—the Sandbone Beast could replicate attacks it had been exposed to. Now it seemed not only had it copied them, but it had evolved stronger defenses.

“Su Qing! Can you hear me?” Lu Chen shouted into the radio, nearly drowned out by the beast’s roar. “This thing isn’t afraid of physical attacks. Come up with something!”

Static crackled through the radio, followed by Su Qing’s tearful voice: “I’m adjusting the inverse infrasound frequency! But its energy field is too chaotic—I can’t lock on! Wait… try emotional interference? Last time, when the sand copied movements, emotionally charged people had a stronger effect!”

“Emotional interference?” Chen Yu was baffled. “Now we want to talk feelings to it?”

The Sandbone Beast suddenly unleashed a deafening roar. Sand grains between the armor plates began to spin, clearly gathering energy for a powerful attack. Lu Chen stared at the swirling sand grains and suddenly remembered that the sand at the energy field’s edge mimicked movements—if it could copy actions, perhaps it could also imitate emotions?

“Old Dao! Chen Yu! Think of the people you care about most!” Lu Chen bellowed, the image of his daughter’s smiling face flashing through his mind—that little girl was his sole attachment in the oasis. Every time before a mission, she would hand him a braided grass rope, saying, “Dad, if you carry this, you won’t get lost.”

Old Dao paused, then his eyes welled with tears. He thought of his grandson lying in the tribal cemetery—the boy had been bitten by the Sandbone Beast last year and didn’t survive. Before he died, he clutched Old Dao’s bone knife, whispering, “Grandpa, you have to chop them down.”

Chen Yu’s hand trembled as he pulled out a photo from his pocket—a smiling picture of his sister with two pigtails, the back inscribed with, “Brother, come back and teach me to shoot.”

At that moment, the radio suddenly filled with noisy voices—not Su Qing’s commands, but a recording:

“Daddy, come home early. Mom and I baked naan with your favorite onions!” It was a little girl’s voice, sweet but raspy, typical of desert children.

“Uncle Old Dao, Mom’s pickled cucumbers are almost ready. Come back and have some with your drink!” That was Chen Yu’s sister, with sheep bleating softly in the background.

“Brother Lu Chen, the alfalfa flowers are blooming in the tribe. You said you’d bring seeds back...”

One recording after another played, all voices of their families—elderly warnings, children’s coaxing, even the cries of newborn babies. These sounds blended together, piercing through the sandstorm like a warm current flowing into everyone’s ears.

Something strange happened.

The Sandbone Beast’s movements suddenly slowed.

The sand crystal arrows it fired hung suspended midair, the spinning grains gradually ceased, the ancient leather fragments fluttering on its armor stilled, and even the “flames” in its eye sockets dimmed. It tilted its head as if listening to those voices. Its massive body trembled slightly, and fine sand grains oozed from between its plates—was it… crying?

“It works!” Lu Chen shouted in delight. “It absorbed sonic energy, but also the emotional residue! These family voices can disrupt its actions!”

Old Dao seized the opportunity to rush forward, aiming his bone knife at the Sandbone Beast’s joints—the armor was thinnest there, still clinging to a rotten infant’s swaddling cloth. “Break it!” he roared as he struck. This time, the bone knife didn’t bounce off but sank deeply into the joint seam. The beast let out a pained howl, staggering backward.

Chen Yu grabbed an iron rod from the ground and smashed it hard against the beast’s bony eye socket. The sand-flame instantly extinguished, revealing a writhing blue light within—its energy core, pulsating violently like a terrified heart.

“Su Qing! Now!” Lu Chen shouted.

Su Qing’s excited voice came through the radio: “Inverse infrasound ready! Three, two, one—fire!”

A low hum passed through the sandstorm, its frequency the exact opposite of the previous attack wave, like a gentle lullaby. The core’s blue light flickered, and the colossal body began to disintegrate. Armor plates fell away, revealing “muscles” made of sand grains, which rapidly dissipated like smoke blown by the wind.

“We won…” Chen Yu collapsed to the ground, gasping for breath.

Lu Chen, however, kept his gaze fixed on the disintegrating core. The blue light hadn’t vanished; instead, it was rapidly contracting into a crystal the size of a pigeon’s egg, its surface shimmering with faint golden light—the exact same color as the sand scar on his finger.

Even stranger, faint miniature human figures could be seen within the crystal—some tending livestock, others plowing fields, some nursing children—all peaceful scenes from a bygone era, with no war, no Sandbone Beast, only oasis and laughter.

“What is that?” Chen Yu asked, voice trembling as he pointed at the crystal.

Old Dao’s bone knife suddenly vibrated wildly, the characters for “Bone Listener” glowing blindingly. His face turned pale as he took a step back. “No good... It’s absorbing this emotional energy… preparing for a second evolution!”

Before he could finish, the crystal burst forth with dazzling light. From the heart of the sandstorm came a terrifying roar—not the Sandbone Beast’s, but a cacophony of countless voices mixed together: ancient warriors’ battle cries, modern herders’ wails, and children’s terrified screams.

Lu Chen snapped his head up, seeing countless eyes emerge within the sandstorm’s depths—red, blue, green—all staring at them intently, like a legion of awakened evil spirits.

The family recordings continued, but now the background was pierced by harsh screams, as if the audio was being corrupted by some sinister force. The once gentle voices twisted into sounds of agony.

The Sandbone Beast’s core crystal spun in the air, and the surrounding sand grains gathered once more. This time, they formed not a giant beast but countless tiny humanoid shapes, each bearing faces resembling the squad members, wielding sand crystal weapons, advancing step by step.

“It’s copying our families…” Lu Chen’s heart sank to the depths. He finally understood—the beast wasn’t being disrupted by emotions. It was… learning to wield emotion as a weapon.

Suddenly, the radio recording cut off, replaced by Su Qing’s terrified scream: “Energy field is out of control! It’s absorbing the entire tribe’s emotional memories! Lu Chen, retreat! It’s about to summon—”

Her words were cut off by an earth-shattering roar. The sandstorm’s center tore open a massive rift, from which emerged a claw that blotted out the sky. Its nails were constructed from countless human bones, stretching out toward them with lethal intent.

And in the palm of that claw hovered the core crystal, glowing with seductive golden light—an invitation to walk right into a trap woven from the threads of familial love.