18 Floors Above the Apocalypse



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.All text © NôvelD(r)a'ma.Org.

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.

"If the Arctic freezes over again, in theory, it could be habitable, but the conditions would be brutal," Stella pondered. But she had Arcadia; food and shelter were no concern, and for the cold, there was thermal wear. Having survived subzero

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temperatures before, if the Arctic wasn't outrageously colder, they

might just manage. Content belongs

Stella preferred the feeling of solid ground beneath her feet, even if that ground was a glacier. And Cooper, eager to run, wagged his tail in agreement.

So, the decision was unanimous: onward to the Arctic.

The submarine 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, so they lit a charcoal stove for warmth.

To give Jasper a break, Stella offered to take turns steering, but he was reluctant. "No need; we'll rest when it's time."

Mostly, it was a 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, worried that walking on it might risk a crack.

The yacht was too precious for Stella to risk, so she brought out a sturdy fishing boat from Thailand. She didn't mind putting this rugged vessel through its paces.

With 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 on without danger.

Being cautious by nature, Stella tied everyone together with a rope. With the fishing boat stowed away, they donned goggles and windproof hats and set out with ease.

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 casts, "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?"