Pale golden light slanted into the city, rousing the peaceful little town from a night of beautiful dreams. Hao Ren watched the streets around him gradually come back to life. Lights flickered on in breakfast shops and small supermarkets opening early, while the shopkeepers lazily greeted one another as they unlocked their doors. Some loudly chatted about a ball game from the previous night, while old men and women out for their morning exercise discussed the strong winds from a few days ago. Everywhere, it was the most ordinary of daily scenes, as if this peaceful, comfortable life had continued for decades.
If he had not known the truth about this world, Hao Ren might have mistaken it for an unremarkable Earth-like planet when he first arrived. Yet now, looking at the everyday scene before him, he felt a deep sense of incongruity seep from his very bones. Mixed into that indescribable unease was a vague anxiety: things were not developing right. Although this illusory world had suddenly adopted what seemed to be a beautiful script, that was probably not a good sign.
Nolan had once said that the world's reset cycle was not fixed. The longer cycles lasted decades or even centuries, while the shorter ones reset within a few years. No matter what, however, it would never suddenly switch to a new "script" less than two days after the new stage had begun running—and certainly not switch into such an inexplicable era of peace. The dozens of world wars before this had been erased as if they had all been a joke.
Hao Ren wondered what was controlling this world from behind the scenes. Instinctively, he ruled out the factor of "people," because the world's simulation program and operating characteristics were more like those of a program.
Perhaps