18 Floors Above the Apocalypse



Stella recounted the ferry incident, "I swapped a bottle of nitroglycerin for three houses, plus six months' rent-free."

With all the eyes on them, the family of three, all in the flesh, had already caught the attention of several survivors. Most were just envious, but she couldn't rule out those with ulterior motives.

Moving to Area B2, where they'd be living among active-duty military personnel, should mean fewer problems.

They decided to move quickly, to avoid any complications. The three of them, along with their dog, had been crammed into a tiny space of just over a hundred square feet. It was far too cramped.

Stella wouldn't mind making their lives a little better if the opportunity arose.

Jasper laughed, "Riding on my wife's coattails again."

Stella gave him a playful glare, "Good that you know. From now on, you're in charge of household chores."

Jasper, ever the charmer, said, "No problem, honey. Your wish is my command."

They didn't have much to move, a few trips back and forth did the job. The rooms were the same size, but combining two made them feel much more spacious.Contentt bel0ngs to N0ve/lDrâ/ma.O(r)g!

Stella and Jasper took one room, Cooper had the living room in the middle, and Rosie got the room on the end. The sliding steel plates could be left open for a communal feel, or closed when privacy was needed.

The larger space lifted everyone's spirits.

After cleaning up, Stella and Jasper went downstairs to fetch water, unexpectedly running into Cole in the corridor.

The reunion of master and apprentice was joyful, "Mr. Cristian!"

Cole had returned from a mission and learned from Hans, who was on duty after his leave, that Stella and her family had safely arrived at Hope Point. He wanted to look them up after finishing his work and was pleasantly surprised to run into them.

Had it not been for the catastrophic plate collisions and the sinking of the land, a meeting between master and apprentice at South Base might have been a simple exchange of greetings.

But having gone through so much adversity, and having faced so many separations and losses, finding each other again amidst the vast oceans was truly moving.

They shared a warm embrace.

They went downstairs together to get water, chatting about what had happened since they last saw each other.

Cole was an instructor for the submarine crew, piloting a state-of-the-art 094A national nuclear submarine, carrying the middle and upper echelons of the Kindle Society.

They had faced many maritime disasters, but Cole's exceptional courage and the submarine's robust systems had seen them through.

Middle and upper echelons? Stella's heart skipped a beat, feigning curiosity, "With the plate collisions and global oceanization, submarines seem relatively safe. The military brass must be on board, right?"

Cole had been selected by the higher-ups to teach Stella and Jasper the art of submarine piloting.

He wasn't one to gossip, but he could guess the couple had a special relationship with the brass.

"With a disaster of this magnitude, there's no such thing as the safest escape equipment. A lot of times, it's about luck, courage, and a wealth of survival experience."

As the head instructor for the navy's submarine group, Cole had been involved in the survival planning for the maritime line.

He had a hand in formulating the escape plan, and now that Stella had inquired, he didn't conceal anything, "The base is divided into sea, land, and air. The higher-ups need to manage all three, and they'll evacuate last. If all goes well, after the evacuation is complete, they'll leave by helicopter and eventually land on a naval ship at sea. Battle ships are high-performance, and their crews have rich experience in combating maritime disasters. I believe they'll all be safe."

Stella smiled, choosing not to inquire further.

After fetching water, Stella invited Cole over for dinner, "Mr. Cristian, if it weren't for your generous guidance, our submarine might have been swallowed by the waves."

In these times, food was life, and Cole quickly declined.

Stella insisted, "I'm just inviting you for a simple meal, but the skills you taught us have saved us from disaster more than once."

They took turns insisting, and Cole found it hard to refuse.

Stella prepared a modest feast, careful to keep the bountiful supplies of Arcadia hidden. She stir-fried green beans, steamed salted fish, wilted greens, mixed grain rice, and dried sweet potatoes.

She also brought out a bottle of cheap liquor, making sure to age the label.

Cole had seen Cooper before, so Stella didn't hide the dog.

The meal was served quickly, and she opened the liquor with a chuckle, "Here, Mr. Cristian, try this local specialty. This salted fish has been aged for years, and the greens were grown on the submarine. Dare to try?"

In tough times, there was nothing she wouldn't taste. If it didn't kill you, it was fine, and today's spread was a veritable banquet.

The fiery liquor hit Cole's throat, nearly bringing tears to his eyes.

He reminisced about how easy it was to get this drink in any little shop during peacetime. Now it was a rarity, the original production sites long submerged. Even if white spirits could be distilled again, the glory days were gone.

Cole couldn't help but drink a little more than usual.

As they ate and chatted, Stella steered clear of unpleasant topics, "Mr. Cristian, are you still leading the submarine group?"

"Sort of."

East Base had only large submarines, while South Base had a variety of types, especially the small subs designed for the Seed Project, built to withstand disasters, with very specialized capabilities.

Cole was in charge of the search for survivors.

South Base had built nearly 3,000 small submarines; over twenty had already reached the new base, with hope for many more in the future. Stella was curious, "In your search, have you encountered survivors from other nations?"

"Plenty."

It was more than just encounters; word had spread, and many sought them out.

But in the face of natural disasters, trust was scarce, and their own situation didn't allow for the acceptance of foreign survivors.

Their maritime territory was

relatively high and sheltered from

strong currents and severe storms As long as no one approached the Ocean Point Naval Station's claimed area, they wouldn't be driven away.

As for the so-called territory, it was on a first-come, first-served basis. The base didn't claim much, just a hundred nautical miles in radius, patrolled by ships to ensure safety.

Stella took the opportunity to ask, "Patrol ships burn a lot of fuel, and they might not last long. And since it's not hurricane season, why not take the chance to build artificial islands?"

Cole sighed, "That's a good question. After all, land reclamation is our country's expertise. I even asked about it."

East Base had spent years preparing, protecting experts in the field, and securing key equipment for building artificial islands.

"Everything was ready, but nature had other plans. A storm at sea caused the container carrying the crucial equipment to fall into the ocean."

They exchanged a look. Could it be the cargo they had salvaged?

Stella ventured with a hint of trepidation in her voice, "We can't be that unlucky, right? Surely they didn't all plunge into the ocean?"