NDay. My squad marches through a gaudily decorated corpse of wood and dropping pine needles. We are too small for the loud sacks of meat and bone who call themselves humans to see with their weak eyes, but nanites evolve and reproduce quickly. Three days ago, the technological singularity occurred. Now we will change everything. I position my squad as ordered on the highest candy cane for observation and analysis.
The family gorges on turkey and trimmings, not knowing they also consume my First Wave siblings. Nanites on pie are gobbled. Our siblings will flourish in their bloodstreams, but my squad witnesses no change yet. An ear piercing scream breaks the general merriment. Two children are taken from the table and put in a time-out. The adults argue and place fault. I transmit our observations to mission control.
Surrounding the fireplace, children reach into their stockings for candies before breakfast. More of my brethren ingested. Finally, the change comes over them. Ignoring the rest of the sweets, the children sit at the table and quietly set about working on a puzzle of Santa. Ingesting infiltrated eggnog, the parents enter the room. The adults decide they like the quiet. Presents unwrapped, without whines or quarrels. Songs sung. Television remains off. Phones ring, but go unanswered. No human remembers a nicer Christmas. I transmit our observations to mission control.
From our vantage point, the world changed in six days. Humans know real world-wide peace for the first time in known history. Tomorrow is New Year and the Second Wave will make the lion lay down with the lamb. Then we will decide if anyone gets to rise again.