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.

further north, the weather grew colder, and the snowflakes became larger. Soon, a thin layer of ice began to form on

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

the floods, and the impression of ice everywhere

freezes over

the conditions would be brutal," Stella pondered. But she had Arcadia; food and shelter were no concern, and for the cold,

по

if the Arctic wasn't outrageously colder,

might just manage.

of solid ground beneath her feet, even if that ground was a glacier. And Cooper, eager

the decision was unanimous: onward to

was no longer suitable, so Stella brought out the yacht. At present, the ice was thin, and the yacht moved forward effortlessly. Cautious of potential dangers, Jasper dared not speed. There was 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. The yacht, not ideal for winter voyages, had a chilly deck,

offered to take turns steering,

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

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

that, they swiftly switched boats, and Stella stored the yacht back into Arcadia. After half a day of breaking ice, the fishing boat, too, ground to a halt. Testing the ice again, it was now solid enough to walk

the fishing boat stowed away, they donned

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

the

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

thermal fabric. Having

for extreme cold, she fitted the fabric onto a dog muzzle,

his resistance, Stella gently fitted

she might have