The entire world's continued existence depended on the nanomachine swarms' "mercy." Even more terrifying was that no one knew why the swarms had stopped back then, let alone when they might start up again. This world had never truly survived the disaster from sixty-five years ago. In fact, the disaster was still ongoing—it had merely slowed its pace, like an execution postponed. Humanity stood waiting to be slaughtered, its neck stretched out for a blade that might fall at any moment. Under such circumstances, all kinds of voices, both rational and insane, began to emerge.
Some had once tried to charge into the Northern Ruins and destroy the nanomachines completely, but the swarms had already become an unstoppable force. Even nuclear weapons could not eliminate them entirely. Others had attempted to reestablish control over the swarms, only to become part of Gray River. Still others hoped to rebuild prewar space technology and preserve the species by fleeing the planet, but in this chaotic world, their lofty ambitions had no chance of succeeding.
The rangers regarded the nanomachine swarms as a form of super-life that had far surpassed humanity and was powerful enough to rule the world. They worshiped them like gods, believing that the entire world and the human race had survived to this day only through the swarms' mercy. Thus, they expressed their loyalty to their "masters" in a fanatical manner, hoping only to secure a place for themselves when the nanomachine swarms finally decided to reshape the world.
But how did the nanomachine swarms respond to all this?
They did not respond at all. They merely flowed silently through Gray River. Human attacks or attempts at control, hostility or worship—all of it seemed meaningless to them. They simply operated according to some strict pattern: they did not spread,