18 Floors Above the Apocalypse

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.

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

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

experienced extreme cold, especially after the floods, and

Arctic freezes over

Arcadia; food and shelter were no concern, and for the cold, there was thermal wear.

по

Arctic

might just manage.

solid ground beneath her feet, even if that ground was

unanimous: onward

no rush, so they took their time, drifting leisurely. Stella sat on the yacht, admiring the snowy seascape through the window, and pulled out warm snow boots, scarves, and gloves from Arcadia.

steering, but he was reluctant. "No need; we'll rest when it's

mix of play and rest, occasionally letting the current guide them. As they ventured further north, the ice grew thicker. After two or three days, the yacht struggled to break through the ice. The yacht was no icebreaker and wasn't meant for reckless use. Jasper tied a rope around himself and tested the ice thickness. "Still not solid enough," he noted,

was too precious for Stella to risk, so she brought out a sturdy

breaking ice, the fishing boat, too, ground to a halt. Testing the ice again, it was now solid

With the fishing boat stowed away, they donned

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

braving the snowstorm

out a Hummer from Arcadia, and they all huddled inside to rest. A hot drink to

thermal fabric.

supplies for extreme cold, she fitted the fabric onto a dog muzzle, cutting small holes for

air was bad for his health. Wary of his resistance, Stella gently fitted it over his head. "Don't

she might have even forced a pair onto