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Short filmTranscript
00:00The pain was gone. Only my soul shattering in the cold remained. What did minus 70 degrees feel like?
00:04It's when your breath freezes midair, tearing your lungs. It's when your blood moved so slow,
00:07your heart just stopped. It's when steel got brittle and snapped. In my past life,
00:10I watched my own hands and feet turn black and blue, then stiff as stone. And my dear little
00:13sister Jenny was bundled up in the last army coat she'd stripped off my back, curled up in that guy
00:16Dave's arms, laughing at me through the steel door. Wendy, you've got more insulation. You can
00:19handle it. We need the coat more. Gotta carry on the family name. Family name. I wanted to laugh,
00:23but the muscles in my face were already dead. In that frozen hell, human cruelty was colder than
00:26the ice. Ha! I bolt upright in bed, cold sweat soaking my back. Hot, stifling. The cicadas
00:30screamed deafeningly outside. I fumbled from my phone. It was July 15th, 2025. 35 degrees. I was
00:35alive. My hand flew to the jade pendant on my chest, reaching for that so-called storage space.
00:38Nothing. I tried to summon the system in my mind. Nothing. Just nothing. Only the balance on my
00:42banking app and the very real sun blazing outside. No superpowers, no magic space, but I had my
00:46memories. I had my mind. And I had mom and dad. Wendy. My bedroom door creaked open. Mom and dad
00:50stood there, their looks shifting from confusion to shock to pure joy the moment they saw me. They were
00:53back too. The three of us held each other tight. Dad's hands were shaking. Mom's tears
00:56were burning hot on my skin. This time around, we're not being saints. Dad said, wiping his face,
01:00his gaze sharp and focused. So what if we don't have a magic space? We have our hands. We have
01:03this house. Until it hits 70 below, we can build ourselves a shelter to survive. Let's take stock.
01:08Mom made a beeline for the safe, dumping the deed, the car keys, the gold bars onto the bed.
01:12Wendy, check every penny we have available. David, sell the house fast for cash. I took a deep breath,
01:18opened my banking app. No loans, no overdraft. This was our family's blood money. Every cent had to count.
01:24Only 30 days left until the end of the world. The doorbell rang. Even through the door,
01:28I could smell that sickly fake kindness. It's Jenny. Last time around, she's here to beg for
01:31money for Dave's business. I opened the door. Jenny dragged a suitcase, acting like the world owed
01:35her everything. Wendy, are mom and dad home? Give me $71,000 now or I'll never come back.
01:39Last life, to scrape that money together, I emptied my entire bank account. This life,
01:43I glanced back at mom and dad on the couch. Mom's furiously punching numbers into a calculator,
01:46not even looking up. Sure. Jenny froze. She didn't expect it to be this easy. A grin started to spread
01:50across her face. Wait. Dad stubbed out his cigarette. He pulled a document from his
01:52briefcase, already prepared. Sign this first. A gift agreement and declaration of severance of
01:56relations. Dad, what do you mean? It means this money buys you out of this family. Dad's voice
02:00was cold. Take the money. From now on, live or die, you're on your own. We're selling this house
02:05tomorrow. You won't have a home to come back to. Selling the house? Are you insane? Jenny stared at us.
02:08You're selling the house just to force me to break up with him? Cut the crap. Sign it or not.
02:11I toss the pen
02:11in front of her. No signature, no money. Sign it and the $71,000 is yours. Do whatever you want.
02:15Jenny stared at the check. Her greed won. She thought we were bluffing. Fine, I'll sign. Once,
02:20Dave and I are rich, don't come crawling back to us. She scribbled her name, grabbed the check and
02:23left. As the door clicked shut, mom's hand trembled slightly. But she steadied herself fast. One less
02:27mouth to feed, the leftover grain will last us three more years. Next comes the real fight. We've
02:31got 1.4 million to work with. We need a truck modified to handle extreme cold. Hundreds of tons
02:35of coal. We need to retrofit the old cellar. And enough food to last us a decade. Against the
02:38apocalypse, 1.4 million was a drop in the bucket. Back to the village. Dad looked around the empty
02:42house, his gaze resolute. To the bomb shelter. That's the only place with professional insulation that can
02:45survive 70 below. The backyard of the old house in Linton Village would be our final fortress.
02:49With no storage space, we couldn't just wave our hands and make supplies disappear. Our biggest
02:52challenge was storage and preservation. Dad, with all his years as a design engineer, stepped
02:56up. He stood in front of the abandoned bomb shelter, blueprints in hand, and roared at the
03:00construction crew we'd hired from the city. I don't want insulation. I want a seal. A seal.
03:05Even with only 1.4 million, Dad sank 428,000 into construction. Don't sweat the money. Dad said,
03:10seeing the pained look on my face. When it hits 70 below, every inch of insulation is a lifeline.
03:16Next came my task, the hoarding. No magic space. I had to calculate every cubic meter. The villagers
03:21watched, truck after truck hauling stuff in and crowded around to gawk. Hey David, you opening a
03:25supermarket? Sold your city house just to come back to collect junk? I was hauling a 25k box of canned
03:29peaches. I just wiped the sweat off my face, gave them a smile and said, yeah, city life didn't work
03:34out. Figured I'd try the wholesale business. I looked up at the sky. The sun still blazed, but only I
03:38knew
03:38that this clunky, crowded, inelegant stockpile, in just one month, would become a treasure that even the
03:43richest people would envy. Just then, Mom ran over, her face pale. Wendy, we have a problem.
03:49We're running out of money. We haven't bought the diesel generator yet, and we're only halfway on
03:52winter clothes. Sell it. I looked at the van in the yard, our last hauler, then at the gold bangle
03:58on my wrist. Sell everything but the clothes on our backs. Only three days left. The temperature
04:02started acting strange. 40 degrees during the day, then plunging to 10 at night. The wild swings had the
04:06village dogs howling all night long. In our courtyard, there wasn't a square inch of floor space left.
04:10Without magic space, stockpiling was a skill. Dad had packed 50 tons of coal into two side rooms,
04:14bricked up the windows, left just a tiny hatch to grab it, and camouflaged it with weeds. Our biggest
04:18crisis is the diesel. Though we had a geothermal heater, the generator was our last line of defense
04:21for electricity. In a country tightly controlled, stockpiling tons of diesel was nearly impossible.
04:24David, the construction crew's gone, but the fuel? Mom stared at the three big but empty steel drums,
04:28stress eating her alive. Dad gritted his teeth, dialed an old army buddy, a contractor he'd worked with
04:32before, a maverick. Alan, I need fuel. Don't ask why. Greenhouse operation, urgent. I'll pay 50% over. Cash, now.
04:38Late that night, a modified water truck rolled quietly into the yard. No small talk. Dad just
04:42tossed two cases of cash, 85,000, into the cab. The hose connected, a black line pulsing like an
04:47artery, pumping precious diesel into the tank buried in the ground. Mom and I were on lookout
04:50duty at the door. Mrs. Ward from next door came out to use the restroom and craned her neck.
04:53Oh, what's the Linton family up to so late? That was the smell of diesel. My heart seized. I
04:56gripped my flashlight tight and smiled back. Nothing, Mrs. Ward. Just clearing out the biogas digester.
05:00It stinks. You should get inside. Mrs. Ward wrinkled her nose and scurried back in. The moment the tank
05:04was full, Dad slumped against the wall. Completely spent. We're set. Grain. Coal. Fuel.
05:08and medicine. Even if the world goes moonscape, we can last three years. Then an emergency weather
05:12alert flashed on the TV. Due to an abnormal stratospheric collapse, temperatures are expected
05:15to drop sharply over the next 24 hours. I checked the phone. Jenny sent a picture of her enjoying
05:19seafood in a fancy restaurant. Fools feed mosquitoes in the country. I enjoy the view from a presidential
05:23suite. August 15th, noon. The blinding sun suddenly seemed snuffed out by a gray cloth. Not a cloud in
05:27the sky, yet the sky took on an eerie leaden hue. The air went still. Even the cicadas fell silent
05:31all of a
05:32sudden. Into the shelter. Dad roared. It was survival instinct etched into his bones. The three of us
05:36scrambled into the cellar. Just as we rehearsed, Dad first slammed shut the outer camouflaged
05:39wooden door. Then the heavy blast-proof steel door. The groan from the hand crank. The final seal. An
05:42airtight, insulated door clicked shut with a thud. The world outside ceased to exist. Inside the cellar,
05:45only the pale glow of the battery-powered LEDs lit the space. Though underground, we had periscope
05:48viewports. I pressed my face to one, staring at the outdoor thermometer. 35 degrees. 30 degrees. 20
05:53degrees. In just 10 minutes, the temperature plunged below freezing. Rain began to fall, freezing
05:57instantly on the ground. Then came the snow. Thick, heavy flakes. Each one the size of a palm. Gray and
06:00the city, smelling of sulfur. By 3 p.m., the outside temperature was 20 below. This wasn't a gradual
06:04chill. It was like someone had tossed the entire planet into liquid nitrogen. The village loudspeakers
06:07crackled to life. The village head said, his voice shaking. Everyone stay inside. Stay warm. Don't go
06:11out. The broadcast cut out mid-sentence. Maybe the lines had snapped in the cold. Or maybe he just
06:14frozen solid. Through the viewport, I saw a villager who hadn't made it home was stumbling toward the
06:17village entrance. But his movements grew jerky, mechanical. Like a rusted wind-up toy. 10 feet from his own
06:22front door, he pitched forward and fell. Outside, the world had become hell. Inside the cellar, it was
06:26something else. The insulation was a godsend. We hadn't even turned on the heat yet, but between the geothermal
06:30warmth and our own body heat, the temperature held at around 15 degrees. A little cool maybe, but
06:33perfect for a fleece-lined hoodie. Checking the seals, dad said. Detector in hand, he did a full
06:37circuit of the door and vents. Carbon dioxide levels are normal. Oxygen's good. No leaks. Mom,
06:41meanwhile, had dug out a small coal stove from our supplies. Let's save the battery. We'll use coal
06:44for now. The smokeless coal burned in the stove, crackling softly. Blue flames licking the bottom of
06:47the kettle. Dinner was simple. Noodles, three fried eggs topped with chili crisp and spam. But at a time
06:52like this, a steaming bowl of broth was nectar of the gods. We huddled around the coal stove,
06:55bowls in hand, not saying a word, just wolfing it down. Cell service was spotty now, but the towers weren't
06:59completely dead yet. I scrolled through my feed. Just people screaming for help. What's going on?
07:01My AC is set to 30 and I'm still freezing. My window's shattered. The coal just shattered them.
07:04Then a message popped up. It was from Jenny. Wendy, what's wrong? The hotel lost power. The AC is
07:09down. We're freezing to death. Don't rural houses have heated brick beds? Come get us. I stared at
07:13the screen coldly. Typed back. Roads are closed. Trucks frozen solid. Can't make it. Then I blocked her.
07:16I just put my phone down when a dull, heavy thud came from the ventilation shaft above. Thump,
07:20thump. Someone was up there, pounding on our camouflage. The pounding stopped after a few thuds. Dad
07:23signaled for us to be quiet. He put on a stethoscope and pressed it against the vent pipe. It's Baldi,
07:26Rick, and his crew. Dad whispered, they're seeking shelter. Good thing we camouflaged the entrance.
07:30Piled it high with scrap wood and bricks. They think it's just a collapsed ruin. Kicked it a
07:33couple times and moved on. Baldi, Rick, was the village bully. Lazy and worthless. And he definitely
07:37hadn't stockpiled any food. Over the next three days, the temperature plunged past 40 below.
07:40Life in the cellar was dull and suffocating. No internet, no entertainment. Just dim lights and
07:43the endless howl of the wind. To save fuel, we rationed the coal stove to four hours a day.
07:47The rest of the time, we relied on our expensive sleeping bags. On the fourth day, people in the
07:50village started going door to door. Not asking for food, but asking for coal. Through the viewport,
07:53I watched a group of villagers wrapped in quilts, axes, and crowbars in hand,
07:57battering on Mrs. Ward's door. Mrs. Ward, we're all neighbors here. Just lend us some coal. Open
08:00up, or we'll break it down. I could just make out Mrs. Ward's screams. Then the sound of splintering
08:04wood. The screaming stopped in under five minutes. The villagers emerged, dragging two sacks of coal.
08:08One of their axes was smeared with blood. They'll find us soon enough, Dad said, wiping down his
08:11compound bow. It was his only long-range weapon. Our chimneys rigged to disperse the smoke, but that small
08:15heat signal won't hide from thermal imaging or anyone desperate enough to notice. No sooner had he spoken
08:19than a face appeared in the viewport. Baldi, Rick, right by our hidden vent, inhaling deeply. A greedy,
08:22ecstatic grin spread across his face. There's meat down there. They'd found us, but Dad wasn't
08:26worried. We'd built this place for exactly this moment. Baldi, Rick, called the others, and they
08:30started digging at the vent. Zap! The second their fingers touched the vent's protective mesh, a blue
08:33purple arc of electricity flashed. It was a capacitor Dad had rigged to the battery bank. Not enough to
08:37kill, but enough to make a man lose control of his bladder. Ah, the screams came from outside.
08:40It's electrified. That old man was ready for us. In 40 below weather, if you get hurt, or even just
08:45panicked enough to sweat, hypothermia sets in fast. They didn't stick around. They cursed a few times and
08:48retreated. This was only the beginning. The real crisis came that night. The entire region's power grid collapsed.
08:52Until then, we'd still seen the town's faint glow. In an instant, it all went dark. The world was
08:55plunged into absolute blackness. Our phones became useless bricks. The last bars of signal were gone.
08:59We were an island. Fire up the diesel generator. Dad ordered. A low rumble came from the soundproofed
09:02room in the back of the cellar. Even with all the insulation, in the dead silence underground,
09:05you could still feel the floor vibrate. With power back, we switched on the old radio. A crackling voice
09:08came through. Fading in and out. Global catastrophe. Shelter in place. Await rescue. Mom was counting the
09:12remaining coal when her face suddenly went pale. Linton. Look at this corner. On the southeast wall of the
09:16cellar, a layer of frost had formed. Did we mess up the aerogel, or... Dad walked over and touched it.
09:20His face turned ashen.
09:20No, the cold's getting through. The ground outside is frozen 10 feet deep now. The cold is penetrating
09:24the concrete. If it hits 70 below, our insulation might not hold. Cut back to the city. The once
09:29glamorous five-star hotel was now a giant ice coffin. Jenny was wrapped in an expensive mink coat, yet
09:33she's still shaking like a leaf. Dave huddled in a corner, wrapped in every curtain he could find.
09:36All the wooden furniture has been chopped up and burned. Even that pricey European-style bed went up
09:40in flames. No food left. Dave's voice was raw. His eyes cold and predatory. That 71,000 was long gone.
09:44Spent on designer bags, a watch, and this useless mink coat. They never even bought a single case of
09:48instant noodles. Let's go to your sisters. Dave stood up abruptly. A man
09:50gleam in his eyes. She must have planned ahead. They've got heated brick beds and firewood.
09:54But how? It's 50 below outside. Jenny wailed. I've got a car. Dave flashed a set of keys he'd
09:58taken off a corpse in the parking garage. An SUV. It's been modded. It'll still run. As long as we
10:02don't die on the road, we live. They charge out of the hotel like rabid dogs. Frozen corpses littered
10:06the streets. Some were stuck mid-crawl. Others still pounding on shop doors. Tonight, luck sided with
10:10the wicked. The SUV actually roared to life, and the tank was full. They smashed through ice statues and
10:14wrecks, barreling toward Linton Village. One day later, at the village entrance, a smoking SUV slammed into
10:18the old locust tree. The door swung open. Two ghost-like figures crawled out. Jenny's face
10:21was already purple from the cold. She stares at the old Linton house ahead, its outline not yet
10:24buried in snow. Her tears froze on her cheeks. We made it, Dave. We're gonna live. We were having
10:28dinner. To keep warm, we were eating high-calorie rice mixed with pork lard. Plus, there's a big pot
10:31of stew. Suddenly, the buzzer by the viewport went off. Someone's coming. I leaned over to look,
10:34and my pupils shrank hard. It's Jenny and Dave, but they were not alone. Trailing behind were three
10:38more, Baldy Rick's crew. Wendy, Dad, Mom, it's me, Jenny. Jenny's voice blared through the
10:43loudspeaker, jarring in this death-quiet village. I know you're in there. Dave told me everything.
10:47You sold the house and the car and brought back one four million. You must have food for days in
10:50there. Damn it. What a moron. Just so Baldy Rick would lead them or spare them, she went and spilled
10:54all our secrets. Neighbors, Jenny yelled to the crowd. My parents are right down there. They've
10:57stashed a ton of supplies. Bust that door open, and we all get to live. That kill with a borrowed
11:01knife move was brutal. The villagers were only guessing before. Now they were sure. One point four
11:03million worth of supplies. How much food in coal was that? Break it down. Baldy Rick snarled. Eyes
11:06bloodshot, and he waved his hand. Pickaxes and sledgehammers rained down on our first blast-proof
11:09door. In the cellar, Mom's hands shook, clutching Dad's arm tightly. Dad's face was like
11:13stone. He set down his bowl and chopsticks. He strode to the control panel and twisted
11:16the valve on the hand pump. It's not hooked to the well, but to a high-pressure waterline
11:19he buried at the entrance. At minus 50 degrees out there, water was the nastiest weapon around.
11:22Open the valve, Dad ordered coldly. I slammed the lever down. Nozzles hidden above the door
11:26blasted out a cloud of mist. And it's not just water. Dad dumped in a mountain of salt,
11:30dropping the freezing point, keeping it liquid until the spray. The moment it hit anything,
11:32the windchill flash froze at solid. Screams erupted outside the door. The ones swinging the
11:36tools got drenched, and in seconds their clothes turned to iron-hard ice. Their hands were welded
11:39to the handles. Then I saw Dave ducking behind Jenny, using her as a human shield. Jenny's
11:43coated in frozen shards, locked in place like an ice statue, her eyes full of stunned despair.
11:47Ah, the scream was torn apart by the savage wind. The high-pressure sprinkler system Dad
11:51built was supposed to rinse hazmat suits. But then it was our deadliest defense.
11:54The brinette spat out was crazy strong. And the second it hit air at 50 below,
11:57it turned into super-cooled mist. The moment that mist hit anything, it ripped the heat right out,
12:02forming a rock-hard ice shell. Baldi Rick was in the lead, raising a homemade shotgun and got
12:06blasted full in the face. Crack! Before he could even pull the trigger, his fingers froze solid.
12:10No way to bend them. Next, his eyelashes. Stubble. Even the steam from his breath turned
12:13white with frost in seconds. He tried to wipe his face in panic, but the glove was stuck to his
12:17skin.
12:18Dave, help me! Jenny's scream twisted with terror. Through the viewport, I saw a scene that made my
12:22blood run cold. The instant the mist erupted, the guy who kept saying he loved her, promising he'd
12:25keep her alive, Dave, didn't hesitate. He yanked Jenny over, planting her right in front of him.
12:29That pricey mink coat she was wearing turned into a soaking sponge. Icy water soaked the fur,
12:34clinging to her skinny body. She became Dave's human shield. You are crazy, so cold. Dave,
12:37what are you doing? Jenny struggled desperately, but Dave gripped her shoulders tightly,
12:41hiding behind her shivering body. His eyes were full of desperate survival instinct and hatred
12:44towards us. Don't move! You're my girlfriend! You have to protect me! Dave yelled, his voice trembling.
12:48Wendy, you bitch! Open the door, or your sister would freeze to death. At that moment,
12:51Jenny stopped struggling. Well, she wanted to, but she was frozen stiff. That mink coat turned into
12:55dozens of pounds of ice armor, sealing her firmly in place. Her face was turned toward our viewport,
12:59her expression changing from terror to anger, and finally to hopeless stupor. Baldi Rick's two lackeys were rolling
13:03on the ground, but the more they rolled, the thicker the ice layer on them became, until they could only
13:06twitch in the snow. Although Baldi Rick was strong, he then knelt on the ground, like an eerie ice
13:09sculpture making a broken bellow sound from his mouth. Was the threat gone? No. Dad suddenly pointed
13:13at a corner of the monitor. Dave isn't dead yet. He didn't get much water on him. And what is
13:16he
13:16doing? On the screen, Dave saw that Jenny had stopped moving, and actually pushed her down. He took
13:20out a simple Molotov cocktail made from a plastic bottle, lit the fuse, and charged madly towards our
13:24air vent. Die! All of you die! Boom! The Molotov smashed into the vent's protective cover. Flames shot up,
13:29but in this deep freeze, they died in seconds. Dad had already wrapped the vent with double fireproof
13:32insulation. That splash of gas burned for barely 30 seconds before the wind snuffed it. But Dave
13:36didn't stop. Like a crazed gambler, he raised his crowbar and beat the hell out of our vent pipe.
13:40Come out! Give me food! I've got cash! That stupid bitch gave me all her money! I can pay you!
13:43He kept smashing while raving like a lunatic, but he forgot this was a minus 50 degree hell. That
13:47shove earlier, though it spared him most of the mist, still left his pant legs soaked. Through the
13:51viewport, I stared at him, ice cold. His wings slowed and slowed. Five minutes later, the pounding
13:54stopped. Dave stayed kneeling, hands clawing the doorframe, face plastered to the frozen steel,
13:58eyes wide open, dead and staring. Outside the door, five ice statues became the Linton Cellars' new
14:02guards. This fight erased the threat, but it also blew our cover. Those statues were both
14:06warning and landmark. At dawn, Dad did his routine instrument check. Suddenly, his face went ghost
14:10white, and his fingers shook as he tapped the barometer. Crap, what's wrong? My heart lurched,
14:15not the gauge. Dad said, turning around, fear swimming in his eyes. It's the pressure. It's
14:19plummeting. That means a super blizzard is coming, the kind of wind that rips houses out by the roots.
14:23And right now, our cellar door, after last night's spray, is sealed under a thick sheet of ice.
14:27If the exhaust pipe gets buried in snow, we'll suffocate in here.
14:30That legendary blizzard was even nastier than we'd feared. The surface wasn't howling anymore.
14:33All we heard was billions of tons of sand and great grinding steel. Then, the cellar's oxygen
14:37monitor flashed blinding red. Carbon dioxide levels were rising rapidly. The vent pipes totally
14:40clogged. Snow's too heavy, or the camouflage layer caved in. If we didn't clear it now,
14:43we would suffocate in under three hours. Do it. Dad didn't hesitate. He hauled out a spare
14:47industrial hydraulic jack and an extra-long alloy drill bit, lining them up with the emergency
14:50shaft. I gripped the drill rod with everything I had. Mom cranked the blower like crazy,
14:53trying to squeeze out every last puff of air. The lack of oxygen made me see stars.
14:55My lungs burned like fire. Ten minutes in, the bit jammed with a thud. Metal hit. Dad actually
15:00smiled. It's a car's underbelly. The wind had flipped one and parked it right over the shaft.
15:04The jack groaned under the load. With a dull boom, Talma warped overhead. A blast of icy,
15:08blissfully sweet air poured in. We gulped it down like attics. Dad shoved the hatch open. I slid the
15:13periscope through the gap. So it was Baldy Rick's off-roader. It was a giant lid shielding us from the
15:17drifts. I tilted the scope farther out. My heart clenched. Across the dead, silent white plain,
15:21a messy trail of fresh footprints snaked away. Following the footprints,
15:24I tweaked the periscope's focus. Three hunched figures slid into view. Leading them was Limp
15:28Larry from the village. Usually a quiet, harmless guy, now he had two half-starved villagers in tow,
15:31going nuts on the lock of the public granary. The door finally gave way. Inside, nothing but
15:34emptiness. Just a few moldy grains of old rice and rat shit in the corner. In that moment,
15:37the last fig leaf of humanity got ripped off. Without a word, Larry swung half a brick into the
15:41back of his buddy's head. Blood splattered on the snow like a blinding red flower. He wasted no time
15:45finishing off two guys, claimed the bag of rat shit-laced moldy rice all for himself, grabbed a fistful
15:48and crammed it into his mouth. Down in the cellar, I was having lunch. A steaming, self-heating meal.
15:51Curry beef. It's smell filling the room. When hunger takes over, humanity is gone. Dad lifted
15:55a chunk of beef, staring at the monitor, stone-faced. That's the apocalypse for you. Some murder for a
15:58bite of rotten rice, while others feast on meat in a warm cellar. On screen, Larry dragged the
16:02bloody rice bag, heading back, then suddenly froze. Beyond a snowy ridge, three pairs of eerie green
16:06eyes lit up. Those were three starved wolves. Any beast tough enough to survive this frozen hell is
16:10among the elite. Larry never even got the chance to run. The first wolf struck like lightning,
16:13snapping his calves. The second wolf went straight for his throat. His screams blasted through the
16:17cellar mics and lasted a good 10 seconds. Blood splattered across the snow and froze in an instant.
16:20The sack of moldy rice bought with two lives spilled everywhere. The wolves didn't spare at
16:22a glance. After filling their bellies, they still didn't leave. The three wolves paced around our
16:26vent. Nostrils flaring, they caught the faintest whiff of human scent. Reinforce it. Dad set down his
16:29bowl in chopsticks. He turned toward the workbench and instantly welded a row of barbed iron grates
16:32behind the blast door. Anyone who forces their way in dies. While mom was sorting the coal for
16:35heating, she suddenly yelped. David, look. At the bottom compartment of the coal bin, a metal case
16:39clattered out. Inside were 10 boxes of amoxicillin. The coal seller had tossed them in for free.
16:43We didn't think much of it back then, but now it's priceless, life-saving stuff. Just as we were celebrating
16:46the windfall, the silent shortwave radio suddenly lit up red. After a burst of static, a strange man
16:51spoke, chuckling like a freak. Found it. Linton Village? Got ourselves a fat sheep. Tomorrow we'll
16:54hit. Bring the flamethrower. Burn through that damn turtle shell. The electric buzz sounded like
16:58nails screeching on a chalkboard. Dad tweaked the old shortwave set. His face flickered red in the
17:01indicator glow. That stranger's voice cut in again. So clear it felt like he was whispering in my ear.
17:05Confirmed. It is that house. Baldi Rick died there a few days ago. Ice statues stood at the door,
17:08impossible to miss. Our trophies? The corpses that froze right outside ended up nothing but bait for
17:12vultures. It was down underground. There is a big stash for sure. No one even frisked those ice statues.
17:16Dad killed the volume. The cellar fell dead silent. Gear up for a fight. That time we were
17:19done playing defense. Mom dug through the supplies and pulled out a few bottles of high-proof alcohol,
17:23the ones she'd never let us touch on a normal day, but now she smashed the next clean-off.
17:26She poured the liquor into glass bottles, stuffed greasy rags in for wicks.
17:29I sat by the whetstone. Compound bow in hand. The arrowhead rasped against the stone in rhythm.
17:33Cold steel flashing. No fear, just adrenaline cool focus. In a world that preys on the weak,
17:37being soft is a death sentence. Late that night, the radio crackled with that voice again.
17:40Cocky as hell, like he'd already won. We'll hit after midnight tomorrow. Just the three of us.
17:43More people means less for everyone. No way those bastards survive a flamethrower.
17:45Midnight, blizzard raging outside. A roar shattered the silence. Three snowmobiles
17:49burst through the storm like ghosts. They stopped at our cellar door. Through the periscope,
17:52I spotted three figures wrapped up tight. No chit-chat. The leader just waved. A guy with
17:56a huge tank on his back stepped up. A 30-foot fire dragon spewed out instantly. It was an
18:01industrial flamethrower. Orange flames roared in the 50 below, looking downright eerie in this
18:04frozen world. The thick ice sealing the door melted fast, hissing into scalding steam. Right
18:08after that, the outer blast door started to discolor, changing from iron black to dark red,
18:11then cherry red. Beep, beep, beep. The cellar's temperature alarm screamed like mad. A second ago,
18:14it was freezing. Now it's an oven. We tore off our polar suits. Sweat streamed down our faces.
18:19Heat rushed in through the cracks, reeking of burnt metal. This door won't hold much longer.
18:22The sealant's already melting. Mom tightened her grip on a molotov. Dad stayed cool. Eyes locked
18:25on the monitor. Hand hovering over a red button. That's a dry powder suppression rig he'd built
18:28for fire safety. But right now, the nozzles aren't loaded with suppressant. They're packed
18:31with pure starch he swiped from the mill. Want fire? I'll give you a damn inferno. Dad smashed the button.
18:37The pressure vent above the doorframe suddenly shot out two streams of white mist. That wasn't
18:40smoke. It was ultra-fine flower dust. Under pressure, it blanketed the whole doorway in
18:44an instant. The concentration was insane. It enveloped the flamethrower punk. Clearly,
18:47the guy had skipped physics class. He didn't even have time to react. His fingers still clamped on
18:51the trigger. Open flame. Sealed spay plus flower dust. Boom. A deafening blast. Like thunder.
18:55A huge shockwave. All Fikars swallowed everything at the door. The periscope screen went all white.
19:00Then the whole place shuddered, dust sifting down on our heads. A few seconds later,
19:03the view cleared. A scorched patch stained the snow. The guy with the flamethrower was gone.
19:07Or rather, he was just a lump of unrecognizable charcoal. Another thug. Closer in. Got hurled
19:1030 feet. Left hanging from a dead branch. His fate unknown. We won. I tightened my grip on my bow.
19:14Not yet. Dad stared at the screen. The leader was lucky. He'd stood farther back,
19:17so the blast only knocked him over. His face was a mess of blood. One arm twisted at a sick
19:20angle,
19:21yet he staggered to his feet. He grinned ferociously. With his good left hand,
19:24he pulled out a dark green thing. He pulled the pin. Pressed it firmly against the deformed door gap.
19:28Come out, or I'll let go. We'll all be blown to bits. Don't do anything stupid.
19:31I flicked on the loudspeaker at the door. My voice was so calm,
19:34it didn't even sound like me. That thing might blow a hole at best,
19:37but I'm on top of a mountain of dynamite. There's 10 tons of TNT right under my feet.
19:40You drop that pin, and we'll all go up in smoke. Total bullshit, of course.
19:42But in this life or death moment, it's about who's more scared to die.
19:45Sure enough, the leader's eyes flickered. The fingers clutching the grenade pin went stiff.
19:48He was weighing his odds, hesitating. And in that split second,
19:50Dad stood straight at the firing port. His compound bow fully drawn,
19:53during humming tight. Through the scope, the guy's wrist filled the view.
19:57The string snapped. A custom carbon steel arrow sliced the air,
20:00punching straight through his right wrist, pinning his hand to the frozen dirt by the
20:03doorframe. Ah, the searing pain made him let go. The grenade clattered down the steps and landed in
20:07a snowbank. The blast went off about 30 feet out, kicking up a cloud of snow, but the blast door
20:11didn't even flinch. Before he could snap back from the pain, Mom had already lit a Molotov and lobbed
20:15it clean through the throw port. Flames instantly engulfed the struggling figure. We stayed inside,
20:19watching them through the screen turn into three charred corpses, emitting black smoke,
20:21until they stopped moving. Half an hour later, confirmed safety. Dad went out to clean up the battlefield.
20:25In the arms of the leader's charred body was a fireproof bag. Inside was a hand-drawn map.
20:28Linton Village was circled in red. Next to it was marked Suspected Groundwater Entrance. That map
20:32made Dad's eyes light up like never before. If we can get running water, our whole life will change.
20:36Dad pointed at the contour lines on the map. Groundwater stays at a steady temperature and
20:39never runs dry. Way better than hoarding cases of bottled water. Following the map,
20:41the potential groundwater entrance was right under our foundation. For the next three days,
20:45the cellar became a work site. We took shifts. In this basement, barely 200 square feet,
20:48we started digging down in one corner. That was a tough job. The frozen ground below was hard as iron.
20:51Every shovel strike shook our hands numb. We had to drill pilot holes first,
20:54then chip away with pickaxes inch by inch. Sweat ran down our spines, cooling the second it hit the cold
20:58air.
20:58To spare our strength, we added an extra compressed biscuit to every meal. The cramped space reeked of
21:01wet earth and sweat. Yet no one complained. We all knew at the end of the world, water was life,
21:07a harder currency than food. Late on the third night, we were nearly 10 feet down. Dad was swinging
21:11the pickaxe when he suddenly froze. Thud. No more dull thump. This one rang hollow. He tapped again gently.
21:16A chunk of solid earth caved in, opening a pitch black hole. A moist, chilly draft wafted up from below.
21:22The flashlight beam sliced through years of stale darkness. Under that opening,
21:25there was a man-made tunnel. Moss carpeted the concrete walls. Faded red slogans from decades
21:29ago were still visible. So this was the abandoned shelter from famine and war days village elders
21:33talked about. Dad clipped onto the safety rope and went down first. Ten minutes later,
21:37his trembling voice crackled over the radio. Get down here now. It's real flowing water. Mom and
21:40I slid down the rope ladder and squeezed through a narrow passage. Suddenly, the space opened up.
21:44At the tunnel's end, an underground river flowed quietly. It wasn't big, but under the flashlight,
21:48the surface shimmered. I dipped a hand in. The water was actually warmish. Four degrees. Dad read the thermometer.
21:52His cheeks flushed with excitement. This is the underground thermostatic layer. The water hasn't
21:54frozen. We can rig a circulation system, use the heat to warm the cellar, maybe even take a bath.
21:59In this frozen hell of 50 below, liquid water at four degrees feels like a hot spring. We stared at
22:02the river, greedy as if it were liquid diamonds. But then, just as I knelt on the damp ground for
22:06a
22:06sample, my beams swept the muddy bank and I froze. On the soft, wet soil was a clear line of
22:11footprints.
22:12They were tiny, barefoot, toes dug deep into the mud. The soil was still wet. Aside from us,
22:16in this bottomless underground maze, someone else was alive. Following the trail of wet little footprints,
22:19we crept through the maze-like shelter like hunters. Around a bend stacked with moldy wooden crates,
22:23our flashlight locked onto a dark corner. Something was huddling there. Thin. The kind
22:26of sickly thin that comes from way too long without food. Rags hung off his body and the skin was
22:29corpse pale. If not for those wide, terrified eyes, I'd have sworn it was a skeleton. It was the mute
22:34orphan from our village, Noah. He was clutching a dead rat, dark blood smeared at the corner of his
22:38mouth. Beside him lay a pile of moss-like green plants. Dad's compound bow snapped up. The arrow aimed right
22:42between his eyes. In an era where supplies are worth more than lives, an extra mouth is a huge risk.
22:46Worse, he'd just found out our water secret. Noah didn't fight back. He just shut his eyes in despair,
22:49shaking like a leaf in a storm. For a few seconds, it was so silent we only heard the water
22:52running.
22:52Screw it. Dad lowered the bow, pulled two cold, rock-hard buns, and tossed them over. Noah's eyes
22:56flew open, and he pounced like a starving animal, swallowing them whole without a chew. When he was
22:59done, he suddenly crawled over, slammed his head to the ground in thanks, then pointed straight up.
23:03He spread his arms wide, tracing a huge circle, letting out urgent ah-ah sounds. He clenched his fists
23:07and mimed holding a steering wheel. Then he drew a finger across his throat. He was warning us.
23:11Something was up there, and it killed. Just got back to the cellar. I hadn't even caught my breath.
23:14The ground suddenly started to quake. It's not an earthquake. Some heavy rig was grinding over
23:17the frozen earth. The water glasses on the table were dancing. I pressed my face to the periscope.
23:20Through the blizzard, a convoy of steel beasts ripped apart the quiet of Linton Village. Three
23:24massive trucks, tricked out and armored. Each had a grim snowplow bolted to the front. Bright red flags
23:27flapped on the sides marked 9th District Rescue Unit. Government guys? Mom's eyes lit up. Hold up.
23:31Dad cranked the scope to Max. Look at their shoes. The men who jumped down wore camo parkas,
23:36but cheap knockoff sneakers. They aren't carrying standard issue weapons,
23:38just random shotguns and pipe guns. Even worse, the first thing they did wasn't rescue. They punted a frozen
23:43corpse off the road, then laughed and lit up smokes. Wolves in sheep's clothing. This rescue unit was
23:47just a big looter gang flying fake colors. The convoy stopped at the village entrance. They
23:50huddled, arguing over the route. Suddenly, the last truck, packed with coal and generators,
23:54coughed black smoke and died. The lead rigs never even slowed down. They dumped two guys with the
23:57busted truck and thundered on toward the town. That lone truck was just sitting there like a gift,
24:02not even 500 meters out. It was a diesel generator. There were at least five barrels of diesel in the
24:06truck. Our fuel stash was almost gone. If we wanted to keep the heat and lights in the cellar,
24:08this might have been our last chance. Let's hit it. It was past midnight. The blizzard was perfect
24:11cover. Dad and I pulled on white camo. We crawled across the snow like ghosts. The two guards on
24:16duty underestimated that hellish weather. They were curled up in the cab with the heater blasting,
24:20dozing off a booze buzz. Dad whipped out a towel, soaked in ether. I went to work on the lock.
24:23Click.
24:24The frozen lock cylinder was brittle. It popped right open. Dad slapped the towel over the
24:26passenger's mouth and nose. The guy twitched a little, then went limp. I dealt with the driver in the
24:30same way. We didn't get greedy, skipped the generator, snatched three barrels of diesel and bolted.
24:34Just as we were about to pull out, my flashlight swept under the driver's seat and caught a
24:37long black case. We cracked it open and froze. Two gleaming QBZ-95s plus five full boxes of ammo.
24:43They must have jacked these off a real military checkpoint. Let's go. We slung the rifles,
24:46dragged the diesel, and sprinted home. The moment we vaulted the wall and dived for cover,
24:49a distant rumble erupted behind us. Their crew had turned back. Blinding headlights flooded the
24:52truck we had just cleaned out. Furious shouts followed, then wild panicked gunfire. Those two
24:57missing QBZ-95s were like a loud slap in the face, smacking those desperados hard. Roars of rage echoed
25:01over the village, but that wasn't the scariest part. What truly chilled the blood was when they hauled out
25:05real pro gear, an industrial handheld thermal imager. On that green screen, every hint of
25:08body heat lit up. Through my periscope, I fixed on the thugs in rescue unit uniforms.
25:13They combed the ruins of Linton Village. A shot cracked. Mr. Harper, hiding in the cellar at the
25:18east end, was dragged out. He was 70, and to save every scrap of food, he'd withered to skin and
25:22bones. He knelt in the snow, no time to beg for mercy, before a big thug smashed his jaw with
25:26a rifle
25:26bud. Where are the rifles and the diesel? Who took them? The thug planted a boot on the old man's
25:30chest, his voice colder than ice. The old man could only let out broken whimpers. Worthless.
25:33Another shot split the air. A blinding red bloom spread across the snow. They kicked the corpse
25:36into a drift, like tossing a bag of trash. Then the second house, the third. The last few survivors
25:41were yanked out like rats and butchered for having no answers. This wasn't a search. It was pure rage.
25:46Suddenly, my heart clenched tightly. The thug holding the thermal imager stopped in his tracks. He was
25:49standing in front of the pile of rubble at the village entrance. That was the entrance to the
25:51abandoned shelter. It was also the hiding place of the mute Noah. Boss, there's a heat source underground.
25:55It's weak, but it's a live one. The thugs instantly got excited. Like sharks smelling blood, they swarmed
26:00around. They used crowbars to pry open the stone slab covering the entrance.
26:03Noah's terrified screams, even through the thick layer of soil, seemed to reach my ears. He was
26:07discovered. Save him or not? That question flashed through my head for barely a second. Noah knew the
26:11secret of our groundwater. If they tortured him and he broke and spilled the location, our whole
26:14family was toast. Besides, he was just a kid living off rats in this apocalypse. Gear up for a fight.
26:19Dad's eyes went cold. He grabbed the QBZ-95 we just seized. Wendy, take firing port two. That's the high
26:23ground. Use the scoped crossbow or just grab the gun. Stir up chaos. Pull their fire. I'll drag the kid
26:28back.
26:28Dad skipped the front door and slipped into the tunnel we just dug. The one tied to the shelter. I
26:32drew a deep
26:32breath and sprinted for port two. Through the scope, I saw the thugs had yanked Noah out.
26:37Blood covered his face. He fought like hell, but a brute dangled him like a chick.
26:40Not talking, huh? Mute, huh? The thugs sneered and whipped out a belt knife. No time left. I
26:44steadied the rifle. It was my first real fight, yet raw survival instinct locked my aim. Bang.
26:49The shot missed. Smacking frozen dirt by the thugs' boots, kicking up a spray of grit. But that's enough.
26:52The blast cracked over the silent snowfield like thunder, sending the gang scrambling for covers.
26:57Gun fire. Those thieves are over there. Seizing the moment of chaos, in the shadows of the shelter
27:01entrance, a powerful hand suddenly reached out, grabbed Noah's ankle, dragged him back into the
27:04dark tunnel like a sack. Retreat! Quick, retreat! I shouted into the walkie-talkie, fired my gun
27:08blindly into the crowd, suppressing their counterattack. The thugs realized what was happening. Bullets poured
27:12like rain towards the shelter entrance. Dad dragged Noah, rolled awkwardly into the deep tunnel under
27:15the rain of bullets. But at the last moment before he disappeared into the darkness, I saw his body
27:18jolt violently. His left leg exploded in a mist of blood. He staggered, then fell heavily into the
27:22tunnel. The air in the cellar was frozen. Only the strong smell of blood lingered. Dad was lying
27:26on the workbench, face as pale as paper. Cold sweat soaked the mat beneath him. On the outside of his
27:30left thigh, there was a hideous bloody hole. Blood was pouring out. I could even see the white bones.
27:34Fortunately, no major artery was injured. But the bullet got stuck in the bone. It had to be taken out
27:37immediately. Mom's hands were shaking. But her eyes were extremely firm. She used to be a veterinarian.
27:41Although she was not treating people, she was no stranger to surgical suturing. There was no
27:43anesthetic. The little lidocaine that was left had long since expired. Bring it on. Dad bit into a stick wrapped
27:47in a towel. The veins on his forehead popped out like earthworms. Don't waste your time. I have a
27:50feeling those bastards are coming in. Mom took a deep breath, heated a scalpel brightly over an
27:54alcohol lamp. The sound of the blade cutting through the flesh made my teeth sore. Dad's body
27:57tightened suddenly. A beast-like growl came from his throat. He held the table with both hands,
28:01scratched fingerprints into the metal table. I held Dad's legs. Tears welled up in my eyes, but I
28:05dared not let them fall. Noah huddled in the corner, trembling with fear. His eyes were fixed on the
28:08bloody hole in my Dad's leg. His face was full of guilt. Ten minutes felt as long as a century.
28:12Cling! A deformed warhead was thrown onto the iron plate. Mom quickly stopped the bleeding, cleaned the wound,
28:16and stitched it up. When the last stitch was finished, Dad had already fainted from the pain.
28:19The wooden stick in his mouth was bitten to pieces. The operation was successful, but Dad's leg would
28:21not be able to move for at least a month. We had lost our strongest fighting force. Before we could
28:24breathe a sigh of relief, in the tunnel leading to the abandoned shelter, there was suddenly a
28:27strange hissing sound. I got closer to the viewport on the door and took a look. My pupils dilated
28:30instantly. A thick yellow smoke was flowing along the cracks in the tunnel, slithering like a serpent.
28:34It was chlorine, or their homemade gas bombs. They couldn't get in and didn't dare to go to the
28:37tunnel rashly, so they chose the most vicious way. They wanted to smoke us to death in the hole.
28:41That yellow gas moved like a living demon, sliding through cracks from the abandoned
28:44shelter and silently permeated into the cellar. The air instantly filled with a choking bleach stench.
28:48It was concentrated chlorine or an even deadlier cocktail.
28:51Hurry! Open the PIV system. Mom shouted, her voice sharp with panic.
28:55She slammed Dad, still struggling up, back onto the bed and dove for the control panel.
28:58Dad built this as our last line of defense. The idea is simple. High power fans would frantically
29:02pump filtered air inside, cranking the indoor pressure above outside so poison can't blow back in.
29:06Boom! The backup motor roared awake. The blades spun like crazy. I glued my eyes to the gauge,
29:10watching the needle crawl right. At the same time, that acrid reek hit my nose,
29:13but it was thinning, getting shoved out. The sealed door to the tunnel had stopped
29:16most of the smoke, yet under the flashlight's glare, I still saw the seam fizzing as it corroded.
29:20Weird foam popping. They can't get in, but we can't get out. I gripped my gun,
29:23my palms slicked with sweat. The gas attack dragged on for half an hour,
29:26then pinkie it. Obviously, they didn't want to waste their precious ammo,
29:28but a worse sound followed overhead. Thud. A muffled grinding sound and the
29:32shudder of a drill chewing into frozen ground. They're planting explosives. Dad rasped from the bed,
29:36his face ghost gray. Gas failed. Now they'll blow the roof, bury us alive, or rip the lid clean off.
29:41Once the roof caves even a corner, the 50 below air will flood in. We won't stand a chance.
29:45Sitting around doing nothing means certain death. We have to strike first. I glanced at Dad,
29:48still trying to rise, and pressed his shoulder down. Rest, Dad. Noah and I will go this time.
29:52Even though Noah couldn't talk, his clear dark eyes were razor sharp, burning with a wolf cub's
29:55ferocity. He pointed to a spot on the map, gestured that it was cracking. It was a natural cavern
29:59zone deep inside the shelter, where the geology was highly unstable. Any significant vibration
30:03could cause a collapse. That would be our graveyard, and the thug's tomb as well. Noah and I strapped
30:07on gas masks and slipped into the tangled underground maze like two ghosts. Noah took the lead.
30:10Quick as a monkey. Not even needing a light in the dark. We started making noise on purpose,
30:14clanging on the pipes, to fake a panicked escape. Sure enough, the digging overhead stopped. Those
30:18greedy bastards heard us below, thought we were fleeing through a different exit, and charged
30:22after us like sharks smelling blood. Over there. Don't let them get away. Their chaotic footsteps
30:25boomed through the empty tunnel. Noah and I lured them into the cavern zone. The walls were draped with
30:29shaky stalactites, and cracks split the floor. Once we reached the mark, Noah dived into a crawlspace,
30:33barely wide enough for a kid. I ducked behind a boulder, clutching the grenade we had swiped from their
30:37truck. Blinding flashlights sliced around the corner. Their cursing echoed closer and closer,
30:41so I yanked the pin and counted three seconds. Go to hell. The grenade arced through the air and
30:45landed by the cave's central support pillar. Boom. The blast was amplified a hundredfold in the closed
30:49space, loud as fuck. Then came the sickening crack of rock giving way. The ceiling collapsed like a line
30:53of dominoes. Tons of stone and dirt crashing down. Their screams vanished under the roar and dust.
30:58Noah and I clawed our way back. The tunnel crumbling right behind us, like death nipping at our heels.
31:02We tumbled into the safe zone, and with a heavy thud, the tunnel was sealed. Silence. They were
31:06buried down there forever, but we paid for it. Every path to the surface was now blocked by our
31:11own cave-in. We'd really become underground dwellers now. The threat outside was buried
31:14under thousands of tons of earth and rock, shutting us off entirely from that brutal world
31:17out there. We couldn't leave, but in a messed up way, it felt safer like this. Day after day slipped
31:20by beneath dim lights in the steady drip of water. Dad's legs slowly healed under mom's careful
31:23nursing, even though he still walked with a limp. At least he could stand up again and tinker with his
31:26machinery. Noah was officially part of our family now. The kid couldn't talk, but he worked so hard it almost
31:30broke your heart. He took over the gardening jobs, keeping those dozens of foam planners in
31:33the basement neat and thriving. Thanks to the groundwater and grow lights, we finally harvested
31:36our first bean sprouts, and even coaxed mushrooms out of the damp corners. When that pot of mushroom
31:39and canned meat finally hit the table, the smell was so good it made you want to cry. No killing,
31:43no looting, no scheming. Our family sat together around the table. Dad set a piece of meat on Noah's
31:47plate, and Noah grinned so wide I saw nothing but teeth. For a split second, the apocalypse felt like a
31:51bad dream. Half a year flew by. Our hair got longer, our clothes more worn, but our eyes were brighter
31:55than ever.
31:55One early morning, I did my usual check on the sensors tied to the outside world and froze. The thermometer
32:00that
32:00had been pegged at 50 below shot up to 20 below in just a week, and the reading kept rocketing.
32:04Dad, look at
32:05this. Dad walked over, stared at the screen for a long while, and instead of relief, his face grew even
32:09more
32:09serious. It's heating up way too fast. He muttered, this isn't back to normal. It's the pendulum effect. After the
32:14deep freeze, I'm afraid it's a hellish heat wave. Almost on cue, the sensor data flickered. The surface
32:19temperature was zero degrees. The snow was starting to melt. For us living underground, that probably meant
32:23another nightmare, a flood. The rising temperature wasn't warming. It was savagery. In just three days, the
32:27thermometer went nuts. The mercury shot up from a hellish 50 below, rocketing nonstop, punching
32:32straight past 40 degrees, from deadly cold to blistering heat with zero transition in between.
32:35Boom, boom. A deafening roar shook the space above. It wasn't wind, it was water. Half a year's snow
32:39and ice melted in seconds under the scorching heat. The whole world turned into a giant steamer,
32:43then morphed into a raging flood. Water seeped through the cellar walls. Condensation beaded on
32:47the concrete. The air grew thick, sticky, and hot. Even sitting still, sweat poured nonstop. Submarine mode now.
32:52Dad tossed me a wrench, his voice urgent. We'd prepped for this long ago. We'd added three
32:56two-meter extensions to the vent pipe, so it stuck out of the ground like a periscope.
32:59Every drain was locked shut in reverse, sealed with a thick layer of caulk. Through the periscope,
33:02I saw the outside world. The once white snowfield was gone, replaced by muddy,
33:05roaring yellow waves. The flood dragged dead trees, ice chunks, and smashed up car wrecks
33:09from god knows where, slamming into every bit of ground that stuck up. Our cellar felt like a
33:12submarine lurking in the deep. Glug, glug. The pressure kept climbing. The steel door let out a
33:17teeth-grinding creek. The water level is still rising. It had already swallowed the village rooftop.
33:19Dad stared hard at the pressure gauge. If water gets into the vent, we'll be stuck breathing
33:22off those oxygen tanks. Noah huddled in the corner, eyes wide as a dirty drip fell from the ceiling.
33:26I walked over, wiped the small wet patch with a towel, handed him a compressed biscuit,
33:29and shook my head, telling him it was fine. But I knew if the water rose another meter,
33:32we'd suffocate in this metal can for good. The flood wasn't just water. It was a boiling pot
33:36of corpse soup. Through the periscope's blurry lens, I saw countless swollen things drifting on the
33:39surface. People. Animals. All rotting and fermenting in that scalding flood, turning the place into
33:43one giant petri dish. Even with all our filters, the air still carried a stench so foul it made you
33:47gag.
33:48The plague was here. Mom was wearing two masks, spraying disinfectant into every corner. One
33:51drop of water out there was deadlier than a bullet. That was the most ironic part of the apocalypse.
33:54Water was everywhere outside, yet the survivors were dying of thirst. If anyone cracked and drank
33:58that murky crap, cholera, dysentery, and typhoid would come for them on the spot. And us? We were
34:03huddled around a tiny table, sipping cool, sweet water from an underground river, enjoying canned
34:06yellow peaches. That hidden river was our lifeline. Water bubbled up from deep underground, completely
34:09untouched by the surface filth. To stay safe, we cut off every bit of contact with the outside. We
34:13hardly even raised the periscope, afraid some killer germ would hitch a ride. We lived off our
34:16stash of oxygen tanks and an air purifier that was barely holding on. We kept it up for a solid
34:20month.
34:20Then one day, the maddening roar of water finally stopped. Dad slowly cranked up the periscope.
34:24Dried mud on the lens cracked and fell away, revealing a sliver of blue sky. The water's
34:28gone down. Through that gap, I saw the ground turned into a pool of black rotting sludge.
34:30Buildings, trees, bodies were all gone. Only a thick, reeking layer of muck covered the whole
34:35world. Yet in all that dead blackness, I spotted the faintest tint of green. Once the temperature
34:39held steady at about 25 degrees and the dirt firmed up a bit, we decided to head back topside.
34:42Back then, to blow up the bastards, we'd sealed the exit ourselves in a planned cave-in.
34:45Now it's the biggest thing keeping us from getting home. Dad scoped out the weakest
34:49spot and used our last little pack of explosives. Dust billowed everywhere. The long lost sunlight
34:52was like a golden blade, ripping through the cellar's gloom. I squinted, tears streaming from
34:56the glare. I drew a deep breath of the outside air, still earthy, with a hint of rot, but it
35:00tasted like freedom. The four of us crawled out of the hole and stepped on what used to be Linton
35:03Village. The village was gone. Everything was gone. The old house, the walls, Mrs. Ward's little place
35:07next door, all of it leveled by the flood. The land looked scrubbed clean, like a wiped blackboard.
35:11Only thick silt and random trash remained. This soil, man, it's fertile. Dad crouched down, scooped up a handful of
35:15black soil and rubbed it between his fingers. Bodies and rotten plants had turned into first-rate
35:17fertilizer. Noah dashed onto a rise, where a lone blade of grass had punched through the muck. He
35:22pointed at that splash of green, cheering, uh, ah, let's work. Dad slapped the dirt off his hands.
35:27There was no sadness in his eyes, only a burning urge to rebuild. Treasures buried under all this
35:30mud. We can finally plant our seeds. We carved a veggie patch out of the ruins. After just a week,
35:34the first batch of cabbage poked through. Against the dead black-brown wasteland, those tidy rows of
35:38fresh green looked like flags of hope, fluttering in the setting sun. That's the color of life,
35:41brighter than gold. The radio had been dead silent for ages, until one afternoon,
35:44it suddenly sprang back to life. It wasn't that sneaky, hostile static anymore, nor the chaotic
35:47electric hiss. Instead, a woman's voice came through, so clear it could make you tear up.
35:50This is National Safe Zone 3. If you can hear this broadcast, head southeast and assemble.
35:54We're rebuilding our home. Dad's cigarette butt scorched his fingers, yet he didn't even flinch.
35:58He just stared at the battered radio like it was alive. The authorities are still out there.
36:01Order's still out there. Did we go? Mom stopped trimming the veggies, her eyes wavering. After all,
36:05it was a refuge for the group. A return to civilization. I looked out the window. In the sunset,
36:08our rebuilt greenhouse glimmered gold. The shelter entrance, now reinforced,
36:11stood like an unbreakable fortress. Groundwater murmured below. The generator thundered steadily,
36:15and the warehouse held enough food for ten years. Not going. Dad crushed the cigarette.
36:18His gaze suddenly razor sharp. If we go there, we're just refugees, numbers waiting for handouts.
36:21Here, we're kings of our own land. I nodded. After betrayal, killing, and brutal trials,
36:26we can't turn our backs to strangers anymore. Not even to the government. Right then, a long lost
36:30rumble rolled across the sky. A helicopter with peeling camouflage paint skimmed past low,
36:33never slowing. And as it flew over Linton Village, it tossed out a huge bundle. The bundle splashed
36:37into the mud, spilling packs of compressed biscuits and a blizzard of flyers. I grabbed one flyer. It
36:40showed the safe zone map and a rallying call. Looks like the world really is changing back.
36:44Dad watched the helicopter fade. A complicated smile tugging at his lips. But we better just guard
36:47our own little place. We stood in the fading sun, protecting the patch of earth that's ours.
36:51As more and more survivors crawled out of hiding, Linton Village, now better known as the Linton
36:54Compound, turned into a legend for a hundred miles around. Across the silent brown wasteland,
36:58our place was the only splash of green. Cabbages, sprouting potatoes, cucumbers,
37:01climbing all over the trellises. Rag-clad drifters passed by all the time, keeping their distance,
37:04their starving eyes locked on that patch of green, their Adam's apples bobbing wildly.
37:07You want a bite? Then earn it. That was my rule. No gold or silver, no cash, just labor.
37:12So the ruins suddenly filled with people hustling. Some shoveled out the muck,
37:15others patched the walls, all for a single bowl of hot potato soup. Inside this little
37:19independent kingdom, Noah was the brightest star. He couldn't talk, but he was born of the soil.
37:23Those small calloused hands worked straight up miracles. Seedlings that barely clung to life
37:27with Dad and me would shoot up inches in his hands in just a few days. He never tired,
37:31strutting around like a general on patrol. Every row was his territory. One day,
37:33I caught a few drifters pointing and snickering at Noah, their eyes dripping contempt. He ignored
37:37them, scooped a heap of rich black soil, and spread it down the furrow like a pro. Then he
37:41plucked a spiny cucumber and bit into it with a loud crunch. The crack echoed across the dead plain.
37:45The drifters instantly shut up, their scorn flipping to raw envy and awe. In an age littered
37:49with starved corpses, anyone munching fresh veggies was royalty at the top of the food chain.
37:52Watching Noah stand tall in the sun, my heart swelled with pride. This is our home,
37:56an oasis blooming in the apocalypse, the legendary Linton compound. We were still shoveling
37:59out the sludge the flood had left behind. I was holding a shovel, working around the
38:02big locust tree that had been knocked sideways. It used to be the village's landmark, and it was
38:05where Jenny and Dave died. Clang! The shovel hit something hard. I bent down, pulled a shiny object
38:10from the black muck. I wiped it on my sleeve, and under the sun it flashed blindingly. A hair clip,
38:14studded with tiny diamonds. My mind snapped back to that afternoon before the apocalypse. Jenny had
38:18waved a $71,000 check, slammed the door, chin high. She had posted the pic of the clip in moments
38:21that
38:22same day. Said, some women were born to save, but I was born to shine. Now this symbol of vanity
38:26and
38:26greed lay in my mud-stained palm. Still sparkling, but icy cold. In the sludge beside it, I dug up
38:32a few splinters of white bone, gnawed by wolves, soaked by the flood. Once living souls, my own kin,
38:37now just a pile of mud and a handful of nameless bones. There was no thrill of revenge,
38:41no soul-ripping grief, just a bleak sense of having seen it all. Wendy, is this pretty? For a moment,
38:45I felt like I heard little Jenny pouting behind me, begging for praise. I breathed in deeply,
38:49fished out a rusty candy tin from my pocket, polished the clip spotless, and set it inside. There was no
38:53headstone, no ceremony. I dug a deep hole at the roots, buried the tin, heaped the dirt back,
38:57and stomped it down hard. In the next life, let's not be sisters. Strangers would do. I slapped the
39:01dirt and straightened up. The setting sun washed the ruins in gold. I turned away, walked toward
39:05the cellar with smoke curling from it, and never looked back. Time was the cruelest blade in the
39:08world, yet also the softest cure. It was 2028, three years into the apocalypse. The Linton compound
39:12was now in phase three of its expansion. What used to be a dank cellar was now linked to several
39:15abandoned shelters we had dug into, forming a vast underground ecosystem. Sunlight poured
39:19through triple-layer bulletproof skylights, glinting off the terrazzo floor of the rec room.
39:22Dad crouched by the generator, wrench in hand, showing Noah how to replace a worn gear. His
39:26wounded legs still had a slight hitch, but it hadn't dulled his spirit one bit. His hair had
39:30gone gray, but his eyes were sharper, steadier than three years before. Noah was a full-grown young
39:34man these days. The orphan who once looked like a walking skeleton now had a barrel chest.
39:38Arms knotted with muscle. He signed as he worked, swiftly stripping the components. His gaze was as
39:42focused as an old craftsman's. From the kitchen came the rapid thought of a cleaver. Mom, apron on,
39:45was chopping pickles. She had filled out. In a world where people still butchered each other for a
39:48moldy slice of bread, Mom was worried about losing weight. That alone was obscenely luxurious.
39:52Wendy, grab that crock of pickled pothered mustard. We're steaming cured pork for lunch, Mom said.
39:56Voice full of life. I answered and hauled the jar from the climate-controlled room. Passing a mirror,
40:00I caught my reflection. My skin was pale from life underground, but healthy enough. A gun in my hand,
40:04grain in the storehouse, family at my side. That was our life. We weren't scraping by. We were
40:08living for real. The whole family crowded the tables, soaking in that hard-won piece. Every dish there,
40:11we had grown with our own hands. Looking at it all, I was overflowing with contentment. Sunlight flooded
40:16the room. Everything was perfect. This was our family photo. Three years on, and we were all still there.
40:19The wind chime at the lookout rang. It wasn't an alarm. It was the visitor signal. A dusty caravan
40:23pulled up just outside our perimeter. Their rigs had special emblems spray-painted on them. They were
40:27beat up, but clearly well-maintained. It was a trade crew from the southern safe zone. After three years,
40:30humans had finally pieced together a fragile new order. Trade had replaced endless raids.
40:34I stood on the high wall, guns still in hand, but the muzzle pointed down. Their leader was a one
40:37-eyed
40:38guy. He craned his neck, staring at the string of dried chilies hanging from our wall. He swallowed hard.
40:42Ms. Linton, this batch is all here. That one-eyed guy had his men open the truck bed. Inside were
40:46barrels of
40:46gasoline, solar panel parts we were desperate for, and even a few boxes of sanitary pads and
40:50shampoo. We want veggies. Potatoes, sweet potatoes, cabbage, anything fresh, we'd take it all. The
40:54deal went down fast and wordless. When Noah hauled out a basket of cucumbers, still wet with morning
40:58dew, the caravan guard's eyes nearly popped. One reached out to touch, but the one-eyed guy smacked
41:03his hand away. Show some respect. This was Linton family produce. In the new world, we were no longer
41:06lambs to the slaughter. We were the ones with real resources. When the trade wrapped up,
41:09the one-eyed guy sparked a cigarette, took a long drag, and eyed our compound with envy.
41:12Word was, the Linton compound was paradise in the apocalypse. Seeing it today, it's true. I just
41:17grinned, saying nothing. Paradise? No. It was a fortress we bled to defend. The caravan rolled off,
41:21hauling our veggies, and hauling hope too. Maybe the world was really getting better. After the
41:25trade crew left, night fell. That night was New Year's Eve. No matter how crazy things got out
41:28there, we still celebrated. The underground dining hall was brightly lit. Warm yellow light washed
41:31over the wooden table, chasing away every trace of cold. That was the biggest meal we had had in three
41:34years. A giant bowl of braised pork with pickles and noodles. It was loaded with thick slices of pork belly,
41:38one plate of cucumber salad, fresh and crunchy, and a heaping platter of steaming hot dumplings. They were made with
41:41white flour. We had milled the flour ourselves from wheat we grew. It wasn't as white as the store-bought
41:45stuff, but the wheat aroma was amazing. Come on, Noah, that torn-skinned dumpling was the one you
41:48wrapped. You've gotta eat it. Dad chuckled and put a split dumpling into Noah's bowl. Noah scratched
41:52his head, embarrassed, then broke into a wide grin, showing a mouthful of bright white teeth. He stuffed
41:55the dumpling in all at once. It was so hot, he started huffing and puffing. Mom switched on the old
41:58TV
41:58she had fixed up, hooked to a hard drive. Old comedy skits from decades ago flickered on the screen. The
42:01picture was a bit blurry, the sound crackly, but to us it was pure heaven. Canned laughter poured from the
42:06TV,
42:06and we laughed right along. We laughed until Mom's eyes grew misty. She wiped them, raised her glass of juice.
42:11To us,
42:11to our family, all together, not semen sanging. Our glasses clinked with a clear, bright ring. Outside
42:16the window, the cold wind was still howling. Maybe out there, people were still starving and killing,
42:19but in here, right there, right then, there was hot food, there was light, there was Dad and Mom,
42:22and my little brother. That was home. Even if it was hell out there, once the door was shut,
42:25that place was paradise. Looking at it all, I suddenly felt every bit of suffering had been worth it.
42:29Dad's eyes shone with the pride of the man in the family. On Mom's face was the simplest happiness.
42:33Noah's eyes sparkled, because he had a home. Right then, I wished time would just stop forever.
42:37After our dinner, I stepped out of the cellar alone. The setting sun drenched the land in blood
42:41red light. Standing atop the high wall, I looked down on this place that had once been nothing but
42:44ruin. Three years ago, it was a frozen hell strewn with corpses. Six months ago, plague-swollen
42:48bodies floated everywhere. But now, green plants blanketed the wreckage. The terraced fields we
42:51carved snaked down the hillside. Plastic sheeting on the greenhouses gleamed in the sunset. At the
42:55village entrance, the old locust tree where I buried the clip was budding, its new leaves swaying in the
42:58breeze. Smoke curled from the cellar chimney, carrying that wood-fire smell, and shot straight into the sky.
43:02This wasn't just smoke. It was proof we were alive. It was civilization breathing. I touched my chest.
43:06No jade pendant. No magic space. No system. No cheat codes for us. All we had was that one
43:10afternoon when mom and dad sold the house in the car without blinking. And the countless nights spent
43:13hunched over blueprints, retrofitting the cellar, and the guts to pull the trigger when looters showed
43:16up. Kiddo, come grab some fruit. I cut up a watermelon. Mom's shout drifted over. Dad and
43:20Noah grumbled for me to hurry. I turned around and stared at that doorway glowing warm light.
43:24A smile slipped onto my face. Was the apocalypse over? Maybe not. Disasters might come back.
43:28Deep freeze, scorching heat, quakes, plagues. It felt like the earth is running a long immune response.
43:32But I wasn't scared anymore because I knew no matter what tomorrow brought, our family were
43:35a nail driven deep into this land. Coming! I shouted and sprinted toward the light.
43:40The apocalypse would end and we would go on living. And we'd live well.
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