18 Floors Above the Apocalypse



Jasper stayed quiet, his fingers intertwined with hers, holding on tight. His eyes were filled with a love as deep as the ocean. Stella glanced at him, "How many years has it been now?" She couldn't believe it he was getting clingier by the day.

"No matter how many years, my feelings for you only grow stronger."

What started as romance had now morphed into a bond that felt both romantic and familial, and it never seemed to be enough.

After making sure everything was in order, the couple started planning their next move.

The underwater vortex wasn't a permanent feature; it needed specific conditions to form and didn't last long.

The three of them, along with their dog, had been eating and sleeping in Arcadia for almost ten hours. By now, even the most stubborn underwater vortex would have vanished.

But to be safe, they decided not to use the submarine. Instead, they'd use the escape pod to check things out first.

So, the trio and their dog boarded the escape pod.

With a whoosh, they found themselves underwater.

Rosie's eyes nearly popped out of her head.

Riding the buoyancy, the escape pod rose steadily to the surface; the vortex was nowhere to be seen.

Soon, the escape pod bobbed to the surface, greeted by calm seas and warm, brilliant sunshine.

The terrors they'd faced seemed like mere illusions now.

With Stella's secret out in the open, Rosie became much more animated, using binoculars to survey the surroundings.

The ocean stretched out endlessly, shimmering like a field of twinkling stars.

After scanning the horizon multiple times and seeing no sign of Iran or any other vessels, Stella summoned the yacht, and they resumed their celebration with music and dance.

They feasted and frolicked on the gentle waves, basking in the sun and enjoying the food.

Jasper, peering through binoculars, announced, "There's a submarine."

Everyone sprang into action, abandoning their beach chairs and juice to focus intently on the sight before them.

A snorkel broke the surface of the water.

This was no ordinary snorkel; it was shorter and thinner than what you'd find on a standard sub.

Stella instinctively thought of Iran; it had to be one of their diamond-shaped crafts.

It moved slowly towards the twelve o'clock direction, the snorkel bobbing erratically in the water.

Anyone experienced with subs would know this wasn't normal-the craft seemed on the verge of falling apart, clearly suffering major malfunctions.

If she wasn't mistaken, it had likely been ravaged by the seabed black hole, now barely clinging to life.

From its ghostly appearance, it seemed unaware of the yacht's presence.

Stella had been searching for them without luck, but now they seemed to have delivered themselves right to her doorstep.

Iran's twisted logic meant they wouldn't shed a tear until they saw the coffin.

Unless they all perished in battle, they would haunt Stella relentlessly.

Though they had won this battle, who knew if they would pop up again someday.

Stella had no patience for constant vigilance; the best course was to annihilate them.

Now was the perfect opportunity to capture them for a harsh interrogation, locate Iran's headquarters, and send them to their doom.

But Jasper disagreed, "They won't confess."

This Iran group wasn't made up of ordinary survivors. Their relentless pursuit indicated they were fanatically nationalistic, thoroughly brainwashed. They wouldn't yield to torture or threats.

Jasper suggested, "We'll tail them from a distance. Eventually, we'll find their headquarters, and then we can figure out how to eliminate them." When it came to dealing with vicious criminals, Jasper had the most experience.

And so, Stella readied for a new approach.

The escape pod turned into a submarine, stealthily following Iran from the seabed at a safe distance.

The vortex was a force to be reckoned with, having destroyed their proud craft, leaving the Iranians in a sorry state of retreat.

With the craft malfunctioning, it moved slower than a snail.

"Damn it!"

Inside the ravaged craft, the Iranians cursed in despair, pounding the floor with their fists, tears flowing freely.

Seven crafts, one smashed by the sub, the rest sucked into the seabed black hole, all torn to pieces.

This was the might of the empire!

Damn it, it was all the work of those with mysterious powers.

No, he had to survive, to report back.

Then, the empire would rise to dominate the world, trampling all underfoot.

The man in the wreckage dreamed grand dreams, oblivious to the massive shadow approaching, then violently colliding with it...This content is © NôvelDrama.Org.

With an overwhelming force, the battered craft was hurled out of the water, then smashed back down with a crash.

From afar, Stella was dumbfounded; she hadn't expected Blue Blue to suddenly wreak havoc.

Ah, she was just trying to fish.

The usually calm Blue Blue was now in full rage, revealing a demonic face as it treated the Iranian craft like a battered ball. Crashing.

Smashing.

Unleashing endless roars, venting its boundless hatred.

Blue Blue remembered all too well; it was this wretched craft that had killed its offspring.

The craft, torn apart by violence, was reduced to scrap metal, the Iranians tumbling out, frantically trying to escape to the surface...

But Blue Blue's roar summoned other predators of the sea-sharks.

Seeing potential food, the sharks didn't hesitate, converging on the spot.

One would tear off an arm, another would bite off a leg-they were ruthless, even fighting amongst themselves.

As the blood spread, the Iranians vanished.

Blue Blue spotted its scratcher and, without hesitation, swam over, nudging it with its head...

Stella's good deed was interrupted, and she was powerless to react.

Blue Blue was the queen of the ocean; what could she do?

The creature was avenging its child; how could it harbor any ill will?

The problem was, Stella was now blind in the vast sea, with no clue where to find Iran's lair.

Iran's persistence wasn't a fluke; it was part of a meticulous plan.

In other words, even if they failed this time, there would be a next time.

They could find Stella, but she was fumbling in the dark.

This wasn't Stella's style; she wouldn't allow an unknown threat to linger.

But now, the only lead had been ruined by Blue Blue.

Stella wouldn't sit idly by; her only choice was to try her luck.

She discussed with Jasper, and they decided to continue in the craft's original direction, hoping for new discoveries.

The sub set off, cruising through the ocean.

Surprisingly, Blue Blue didn't leave, following leisurely.

Without advanced detection equipment, the sub would surface periodically to check the surroundings.

Wherever Iran had settled, the terrain and current would be simple enough.

Blue Blue followed them to the surface, approaching slowly.

Remembering the kindness Stella and Jasper had shown it, Blue Blue circled the sub playfully, even shooting water jets into the air as a friendly gesture.

Stella waved cheerily at the creature as it seemed to be in a good mood.

Not to be outdone, Cooper let out a bark, "Woof."

Blue Blue swam ahead, but upon noticing the submarine wasn't following, it circled back, making a peculiar noise as it approached.

The sound was pitch-high, far more intense than any lion's roar they'd ever heard, and the trio, along with their dog, quickly covered their ears.

After watching Blue Blue repeat this behavior several times, Stella stroked her chin thoughtfully. "Could it be that Blue Blue is trying to tell us to follow?"