18 Floors Above the Apocalypse novel Chapter 472

The world is like a rolling ball of water—round and always drifting. If you're lucky enough, you might just find yourself back where you started.

Stella, sipping on a steaming cup of hot cocoa, mused, "Head north, and who knows? Maybe one day we'll hit the Arctic and see some seals."

"Seals?" Rosie had seen them on TV and felt a surge of excitement, hoping to catch a glimpse of those adorable, clumsy creatures in real life. But alongside that excitement, a sliver of worry crept in. With nature's wrath so fierce, could any seals have survived?

"There's always hope," Stella said with a reassuring smile. "Maybe we'll get lucky and see some polar bears too."

Life in the submarine was monotonous, but the spirits of the trio and their loyal dog were high. They kept themselves busy with exercise, reading, and watching movies.

Rosie, flipping through a baking book, finally managed to bake bear-shaped cookies after several failed attempts—some chocolate, some matcha-flavored. She even baked one that looked like Cooper, their dog.

As she crunched into it in front of him, she beamed, "Mmm, this is delicious, bro and sis!"

Cooper, however, was not amused and gave her the cold shoulder for two days. After a string of apologies and several leg-shaped treats, Cooper finally forgave her.

Stella, meanwhile, immersed herself in the art of healing, focusing on massage and acupuncture, often using Jasper as her unwilling guinea pig.

A month had passed, drifting with the currents. One morning, Stella was just waking up when Rosie's voice, filled with surprise, rang out, "It's snowing! Snowing over the sea!"

It was twenty below zero, and delicate snowflakes were falling from the sky, vanishing into the vast blue ocean. Stella had never seen snow over the sea and, on a whim, brought the submarine to the surface.

Dressed in thermal wear topped with a fur coat, she stepped out for a breath of fresh air. The cold bit into her lungs, sharp and uncomfortable. Quickly, Stella pulled out a mask made of thermal fabric, making the chill more bearable.

Snowflakes danced down, one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, disappearing as they hit the sea. Jasper brushed the snowflakes from Stella's lashes, chuckling, "Cold?"

"Not at all," she replied.

The group, along with their dog, spent over two hours on the sea surface—taking photos, roasting sweet potatoes over a charcoal fire, and even sipping coffee.

As they headed further north, the weather grew colder, and the snowflakes became larger. Soon, a thin layer of ice began to form on the sea. If they continued north, the ice would thicken, leaving no chance for the submarine to resurface.

Gathered for a discussion, they debated whether to turn back or continue the adventure. Stella was indifferent; wandering was her way of life. Jasper didn't mind, as long as he was with his family. Rosie, however, yearned for a different life than the one she'd known.

"Bro, sis, if the ice thickens, could we live on it?" she asked.

She had experienced extreme cold, especially after the floods, and the impression of ice everywhere was unforgettable.

The snow kept falling, accumulating on the ice. Well-equipped with warm gear and aided by trekking poles, they faced only the challenge of the blizzard. The snow wasn't deep yet, just ankle-high, making it easy to walk, though Cooper sneezed occasionally, irritated by the cold air.

After braving the snowstorm for over an hour, Stella brought out a Hummer from Arcadia, and they all huddled inside to rest. A hot drink to warm up, and once they were toasty, Stella crafted a doggie balaclava from thermal fabric. Having stocked up on pet supplies for extreme cold, she fitted the fabric onto a dog muzzle, cutting small holes for airflow.

Cooper disliked restraints, but too much cold air was bad for his health. Wary of his resistance, Stella gently fitted it over his head. "Don't scratch it off, you'll get sick."

If Cooper hadn't stubbornly refused shoes, she might have even forced a pair onto his paws.

Once they were rested, they set off again, braving the risks. The Arctic wind was fierce, whipping snowflakes into a frenzied dance, creating uneven surfaces on the ice. As the snow built up and froze, it formed mound-like shapes.

By evening, Stella chose a mound to shelter beneath, blocking the bone-chilling winds. The ice was thicker now, and she pulled out a robust vehicle from Arcadia—perfect for their expedition. Cloaked in thermal wear and under thick blankets, they slept warm and comfortable.

The next day, the outside temperature plummeted to thirty below zero. Thermal wear kept them warm, but only to a certain extent. Back when the worst of the cold hit, Stella had stayed indoors in her apartment, venturing out only when necessary. But the Arctic is a different beast altogether, with blizzards so fierce they feel like fine, dense needles of cotton wool burrowing into your pores. Even after spending a while outside, you can't shake off the deep chill.

Waking up in the morning, the snowstorm had intensified. Rosie and Cooper stepped out of the vehicle for some fresh air, but within five minutes they were back, teeth chattering like castanets, "Bro, sis-in-law, it's way too cold out there."

After devouring a piping hot breakfast, Stella braved the elements, stepping out to test the extreme weather herself. The cold was bone-shaking, truly. In such conditions, it wasn't fit to travel far. Rosie broke the silence, "Bro, sis-in-law, haven't we gone far enough? Should we keep going deeper in?"