Read the following passage and questions, then choose the right answer from options, the answer should be one of A, B, C, D.

<passage>:
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] The sand-thing was powerful, lonely and adolescent. Worse." "Earthman, wait...." "No!" Stinson shot back. "You've owned this planet for a million years. You have brooded here alone since before my people discovered fire, and in all those ages you never learned self-control. I can't subject my people to the whims of an entity who throws a planetary fit Sybtl said, "Is the Sand God happy?" She shook her head. "No, he is not happy. He is old, old, old. I can feel it. My people say that when one gets too old it is well to die. But Gods never die, do they? I would not like to be a God." "Stinson," the Sand God said. "You said I was adolescent. You are The sun—no, not left their bodies at the same time? Do you imagine all of us were adults?" "I suppose not. Sounds reasonable. How old were you?" "Chronologically, by our standards, I was nine years old." "But you continued to develop after...." "No." right the first time. The sun burned fiercely, although he would have said it was about four sun of this particular solar system. He was sun. Not Sol. What should he call it, Alpha or Stinson tried to imagine it. At first there must have been a single o'clock in the afternoon, if this had been Earth. Not a tree, nor a the solar system, the galaxy. Then a returning to the planet. Empty.... Change. Buildings, roads, bridges weathering slowly. Such a race would have built of durable metal. Durable? Centuries, eons passed. Buildings crumbled to dust, dust blew away. Bridges eroded, fell, decomposed of civilization passed except in the cavern of the heated pool. Constellations disappeared, new patterns formed in the night sky. The unutterably total void of time—FIVE HUNDRED THOUSAND YEARS! And a nine-year-old child brooding over an empty world. "I don't understand why your development stopped," Stinson said. "Nor do I. But perhaps ... well, I sense that I would continue, if you sand blowing in the wind? A wind devil?" portion of this planet that suits you. Take the web-footed woman for your wife. Have children. I promise never to harm you in any way." but it was composed only of grains of sand. There was no core, no The Sand God disappeared. Sybtl said "Is the Sand God angry again?" sand possibly have a nervous system? nervous system. But then, how could a group of loosely spaced grains of a place in the sand and drew a triangle with his forefinger. When it "Listen," he said, "I am not a God. Get that through your head." She laughed softly. "You are a strange God." first grains of sand, the realization of what was happening dawned with shocking he had to turn away quickly. No definable form or sculptured line was visible, yet he felt, or saw—he did not know which senses told him—the immeasurable gulf of a million years of painful evolution. Then nothing. It was not a curtain drawn to prevent him from seeing more. There was no more. She shrugged her beautiful shoulders. "It is the way of the Gods," she "On the contrary, you have. There is a time and place for everything, though." his feet has decreed this." "Yes." nonconformists from the sixth planet. I permit them here because it occupies my time, to watch them evolve." "You should live so long." forgotten. You are a strange entity. You travel by a means even I cannot fully understand, yet you speak of time as if some event don't understand you. I see you as a cone of sand which keeps changing "Where do I originate? It seems I have always been. You see this cavern, the heated pool, the statues, the inscriptions. Half a million almost comes to me, why they are gone. And this is contrary to the greatest law of all—that an entity, once in existence, can never cease to exist." Stinson was silent, thinking of the endless years of searching through The woman looked at him, and she was not smiling. "Please ask the Sand "As for the webfoots," the wind devil, or Sand God, said, "I will The Sand God did not reply. The great bodiless, directionless voice was and set down in a dark canyon. The cone of sand was the color of wood When he looked back, the Sand God was gone. "Syb-tl." He tried to imitate her musical pronunciation. "A very nice name." She smiled, then pointed to the cavern. "When the ice is gone, they "I am not your sister. I am your wife." " What? " God." "Listen, Sybtl," he said desperately, "I am not a God and you are not my wife. Let's get that straight." "But...." "No buts. Right now we'd better get out of here." he chose. But with Sybtl it was another matter he was no better than any other man, perhaps not so good as some because he was forty, and He clutched the tube-weapon. "How many shots in this thing?" "Shots?" "How often can I use it?" "As often as you like. It is good for fifty years. Kaatr—he is the one you destroyed—brought it from the ship when we came. Many times he has used it unwisely." "When did you come?" "Ten years ago. I was a child." "I thought only criminals were brought here." "When will your people come again?" She shook her head. "Never. They are no longer my people. They have the Sand God. It was blood red now. It pulsed violently. The great The Sand God pulsed more violently than before. Ice melted in a wide primitive logic long before it reached your level of development." The Sand God became a sphere of blue flame. A wave of intense heat Sybtl shivered against his arm. "The Sand God is angry," she said. "My Kaatr got the tube-weapon. It was the only thing the Sand God didn't burn, that and the skirts. Then, when he had burned the ship, the Sand Sybtl touched his arm. "Why did the Sand God come? He did not speak." "Don't worry. The Sand God travels without a ship, why shouldn't I?" no time, now, to warm cold feet or dwell on the vagaries of Sand Gods. "The Sand God," Sybtl said. "Sometimes he plays among the clouds. He makes it rain in a dry summer, or sometimes warms the whole world for days at a time in winter, so the snow melts and the grass begins to green. Then he tires and lets winter come back again. He is the loneliest God in the universe." She shrugged her shoulders. "I just know. But he's an angry God now. "The Sand God isn't doing this," Stinson said. "It's only a storm." "Poor little God-with-fingers-on-his-feet," she said. "You do not understand. The Sand God is terrible, even when he plays. See the "You're leaving?" There was panic in her voice. "Only for a moment." "And you won't come back. You will go to your world." "No. I'll be back." "Promise? No, don't promise. The promises of Gods often are forgotten before the sounds die away." "I'll be back." Stinson had never been in a sand storm before, even on Earth. He could not breathe. He could not see. Bullets of sand stung his skin. Bullets of sand shot into his eyes. Clouds of sand howled around him. He fell, "Adolescent!" "The Sand God is tired," Sybtl said. "He is not angry now. I'm glad. The cone of sand suddenly appeared. It stood in the canyon, its base "Earthman," the Sand God said, as if he were about to make a statement. her. The webfoots might find us, or the Sand God might destroy us in "Earthman, hear me."

<question>:
How old is the Sand God, mentally?

<options>:
A Six years
B Fifteen years
C Twelve years
D Nine years

<answer>:

D