We fled, away from our homes, and far into the north end of the world. What we thought was an early winter, slowly turned into an everlasting one. At first, it was harmless. We waited out the winter and waited for spring. But that never came, our lives never went back to normal. When we realized that the food was running out, we were too late to fix it.
It was so cold that it was impossible to regrow anything in the soil. Many of us were left starving, but that wasn’t the end of our problems. Next was the cold, the very temperature itself began to lower when the skies were blackened by the clouds.
You’ll hardly see the sunlight, or even the sun, during the day.
London was not built to last the snow. We had to adapt and make changes. Food was dwindling, and there were too many mouths to feed. With determination and desperation, London began to divide itself, sending its citizens out of the city and all over the north, a place where it had already adapted to the cold, with plenty of games and abundance of resources.
Across the frozen sea, we went north as planned, forming large expeditions to reach the designated spots that held the key to our survival. Large towering machines, over thirty meters tall, and over a hundred of them made, scattered throughout the north, capable of generating enough heat to withstand the freezing temperature.
They were created by the greatest minds of London and with the help of the IEC, the ones responsible for the existence of these generators. I’m not sure what was the fate of those who stayed in London after I left.
I hope they haven’t surrendered to the snow.
There are the stories of our struggles for survival, such as the class conflict between the poor, and the rich. Or a group of professors from Cambridge and Oxford sent to preserve the last traces of plant life on earth.
And even the construction of the generator, when the grass was still green, the trees growing so healthy, the warm air along with animals still roaming in the woods, and even the waves from the ocean, still unfrozen by the frost.
And so, our story begins with two individuals, Jack and Walter, members of a scout team venturing into the snowy plains, embarking on a grand adventure that would test their strengths in the new cold world. Will they prevail, or will they too become victims of the frost?
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Walter opens his eyes, after muffling a yawn from his mouth. He rubs his eyes to get rid of the frost threatening to form around his eyelids. Walter blinked, his eyelashes heavy with frost, as he forced his eyes open. He stifled a yawn, his breath turning into a cloud of mist in the frigid air.
With chapped hands, he rubbed his eyes, attempting to wipe the ice threatening to form around his eyelids. He had to sleep on the floor, it was hard, but it felt much better than sleeping on the snow after months of trudging through snow-covered landscapes, all the way from London to this desolate northern wasteland.
However, Walter was annoyed to find the site abandoned. He’s sure that the others were feeling the same way. Many were expecting a welcoming with open arms, but here they found nothing but discarded empty crates and the generator not running.
Walter's jaw tightened in frustration when he first saw the abandoned site yesterday when they arrived. Disappointment weighed heavy on his shoulders, sinking into the pit of his stomach like a stone. He was certain the others felt the same way. Expectations of a warm welcome with open arms had quickly dissolved into a bitter reality: discarded, empty crates littered the ground, and the generator, left untouched and had yet to be activated.
It was not like he didn’t expect it, he knew something like this would happen, he was just hoping that it wasn’t true.
They had come all this way, hoping for refuge, only to be met with desolation. The bitter taste of dashed hopes lingered in his mouth, and he couldn't shake the feeling of being adrift in an unforgiving sea of ice and despair.
Gathering his strength, Walter pushed himself off the frozen ground, his muscles protesting the cold stiffness. He stretched his body, limbs aching as he gathered with the rest.
His group made it from London had reached the site, only to find it in a crater, and abandoned. There were supposed to have people already waiting for them, but there wasn't.
Recently their convoy was separated by a blizzard, and only a handful of them made it to the generator. They settled in and tried to make the most of it. They shared concerns for their loved ones as the night drew near.
In the wake of the harrowing events of the previous day, a palpable sense of anticipation hangs in the frosty air. The community gathers outside the captain's tent, their collective breaths visible in the chilly morning. Two guards, resolute in their duty, stand sentinel, ensuring no one intrudes on the captain’s privacy.
Inside the tent, the captain, a youth recently elevated in rank back in London, hesitates near the exit. His mind churns with thoughts, grappling for the right words to address his people. With a fortifying breath, he steps out, his presence a beacon of both hope and uncertainty in the icy dawn.
The moment the captain emerged, a profound silence fell over the crowd. All eyes were fixated on him, the weight of their expectations hanging heavy in the frozen air. Surveying the sea of anxious and exasperated faces around him, the captain felt the pressure to address his people.
However, instead of words, he chose action. Determined, he strode purposefully toward the imposing structure of the generator, his guards trailing closely behind. Standing in the shadow of the colossal machine, he gazed up at its intricate design, a mix of awe and trepidation in his eyes.
Nearby, a solitary wooden crate caught his attention. Climbing atop it, the captain elevated himself, gaining a commanding view of the assembled multitude. In that elevated position, surrounded by the expectant faces of his community, he began his announcement, his voice carrying with it the gravity of their predicament.
"Good morning, people of New London. I understand that the recent blizzard from last night has separated us from our loved ones. But do not worry, once we have settled ourselves quickly, we will have a better chance of finding them faster. We have come this far, and now is the time to build a city where we will endure this winter. And hope that we will live long enough to feel the warmth again." Said the Captain.
He hears a lot of agreements, but some still have doubts about it.
He continues, "First things first. We must gather these items that are important to our survival. Coal will be most important to keep our generator running and prevent us from freezing. This crater alone will not be enough to shield us forever. There is lots of wood and steel scattered around us. We can use them to build homes and shelters. Lastly, we'll need food. We'll need hunters to go out and bring us back some food every day." Said the Captain.
The response he has gotten from them was moderate, and everyone seems to agree with what he said. But someone wasn't happy about it.
"What about you? Are you just going to sit and relax while we peasants do all the work? All your high-class pricks had already stomped on us even before this winter came!" He yelled.
"What are you blabbering about? You don't know the struggles that we had to deal with on our end!" Shouted a man from a higher class. Soon others joined in and started arguing with each other.
The captain knew this would happen eventually. But he didn't expect it so soon. The class structure has been a touchy subject to deal with, especially among the lower class.
And with the winter on top of their heads, it didn't make it any better.
"Come on, you filthy peasant! You ain't got the balls to hit a lord!" He taunted. "Fuck you!" Shouted the peasant. He punched the nobleman and hit him directly in the face. The rest joined in, and everyone was fighting.
"Stop the fight!" The captain shouted at his guards. They nodded and got into the fight, but some of the lower class decided to attack the captain as well. "Get back!" Shouted the guards. Walter backs away from the crowd, getting beat up in the morning wasn’t his cup of tea.
"Ah!" A woman's cry of pain pierced through the chaos of the brawl.
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
The woman lay sprawled on the ground, unconscious and motionless.
A lord was standing in front of her. "I-It, it was an accident! I swear!" He pleaded, his fist still up shaking in fear, stained with blood. Seeing the woman's head bleeding and lying on the ground, a small child ran to her.
"Mommy!"
A little girl, no older than six, knelt beside her unconscious mother, her small hands trembling as she desperately shook her mother's lifeless form. But her mother remained unresponsive. Overwhelmed by grief, the child began to sob, burying her face in her mother's chest, clinging to her with all her might.
Walter noticed a young man with fiery red hair sprinted forward, swift and determined, to assist the fallen woman and her child.
The rest of the lower class grew increasingly restless, their agitation escalating. The guards found it increasingly challenging to maintain control.
In response, the captain swiftly drew his revolver from its holster, the metallic click echoing through the tense air as he cocked the hammer back. A single shot tore through the silence as it pierced the sky, demanding attention and momentarily silencing the chaos.
"That's enough!" The captain shouted.
A hush fell over the crowd, the echo of the gunshot fading into silence. Every gaze turned towards the captain, their anticipation palpable. He calmly puts his gun away before speaking, his words carrying the weight of authority.
"I understand this is a difficult request, and our disparities are evident," he began, his eyes looking at everyone before him. "To ensure fairness, every citizen, regardless of class, including the higher-ups and soldiers, will contribute to building our new sanctuary. And I'll be working alongside you. It's only just that we all share this responsibility," he declared.
A momentary pause hung in the air, the captain's hope flickering that his proposition would be accepted. To his relief, the citizens began to calm, stepping back from their confrontation. Yet, the child still wept by her mother's side. With urgency in his voice, the captain addressed them, determination cutting through.
"Our differences can wait; right now, that woman needs our aid. We must swiftly gather resources and set up a medical tent. Move, everyone—let's act together!"
Immediately, everyone started to form teams and began trudging against the snow to gather resources. Surprisingly, even the lord responsible for the accident worked alone, his efforts seemingly the most hard-working of them all.
The captain sighed in relief.
There were no conflicts among them, for now. With swift steps, he hurried over to the injured mother and her child. By their side, the young man with red hair wore a compassionate smile, his reassuring words cutting through the despair.
“Is my mommy, okay?” The little girl asked.
"Look at me, everything will be alright. Your mom is still okay, so don't cry; you're a brave young girl," he gently reassured, his voice carrying a promise of hope amid the unfolding tragedy. “How is she?” The captain asked.
The young man glanced up and addressed the captain earnestly, his eyes reflecting a mix of determination and concern. "She's alive, Captain. I've managed to stop the bleeding, but she needs a proper place to rest. This floor won't suffice if we don't move her soon," he stated, his urgency underscoring the gravity of the situation.
"We're moving as fast as possible. By the way, what's your name?" the captain inquired, his tone gentle amid the urgency.
"I'm Jack, Captain. It's a pleasure to meet you," Jack introduced himself, extending his hand for a firm handshake.
Returning the handshake, the captain nodded appreciatively. "Likewise," he replied, his voice carrying the weight of gratitude. He left Jack to attend to the injured pair as he strode back towards the others, immediately immersing himself in the task of gathering essential resources for their stockpile.
The sight of their leader working tirelessly alongside them filled the people with gratitude. Witnessing the Captain's dedication, a sense of unity and purpose filled the community, strengthening their resolve in these trying times.
A group of people came up to him and asked, "Captain, there's so much to do, but we don't have a lot of hands around to do it. A quick way of addressing this problem is to put our children to work as well." The captain was shocked and speechless.
Child labor?
That's not exactly a good thing at the moment, considering the earlier situation was solved not too long ago. The kids right now are helping, sure, but not all of them wanted to do it. And suggesting it so early when we've just started, he knew that the lords wouldn't like it, "I'll think about it. Right now, continue working." The captain answered. They nodded and went back to their respective work.
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The next few hours have passed by so quickly. Everything is going well, so far.
Walter did his fair share of work, dragging his boots through the snow to find any piece of material to bring back to the stockpile. Despite the cold, it was a lot better than enduring several weeks of relentless travel. He was grateful that there was a place where he didn't have to venture more than necessary.
Hopes were high.
The higher and lower classes are working together. The children are a bit relaxed and have started playing with one another. The woman from earlier is now resting inside a newly constructed medical post.
As the gathering became livelier, Walter heard a loud roaring sound from the generator. Its warmth brought happiness to everyone. He had never felt this warm since last autumn. Now that he thought about it, it brought down his mood a little just from the thought of never getting a spring any time soon.
At 8.00 pm, the horn sounded.
A guard announced, "The night is coming, put down your tools. Go rest everyone," Everyone stopped work and headed back to the generator, grabbing some supplies from their stockpile, and started working on their tents. They were simple and easy to build.
Everyone felt relieved, knowing that they have a roof, even a flapping one over their heads. But everyone knew that the generator would stop working if there isn’t enough coal to keep it running in the days to come. And these tents would not be enough to fend off the cold without some proper housing. They would need better homes.
While the community bustled with the construction of their homes, the captain made a brief stop at the medical post. Inside, a nurse attended to the awakened woman, her daughter peacefully asleep beside her. Jack was absent, likely assisting others. Deciding not to disturb them, the captain hesitated, aware that his presence might not be welcome.
However, his attempts at stealth were futile. The mother's gaze locked onto him, and he felt a shiver down his spine. With a subtle gesture, she beckoned him over, careful not to awaken her daughter. Obliging, the Captain approached her, bracing himself for the encounter.
"Good evening, Ma'am. I deeply regret the injury you suffered. It was my failure to control the situation properly, and I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive my mistake," he stammered, waiting for her response, his eyes filled with remorse.
She remained silent, her touch gentle as she continued to stroke her child's head. "I forgive you. My daughter has told me everything. Just ensure it doesn't occur again," she said, her tone firm yet forgiving. The captain nodded earnestly. "Yes, Ma'am. I promise I'll do my utmost to prevent any such incidents in the future," he replied, sincerity etched on his face.
Her hand extended for a handshake, a gesture of understanding and acceptance. "Olivia," she introduced herself. The captain shook her hand firmly. "This little one here is Rose. She was already talking about this Jack fellow when I woke up. If you happen to see him again, please convey my gratitude for his assistance," she said with a warm smile. "Oh, and yours too," she added playfully.
The captain rubbed the back of his head, a touch of embarrassment coloring his cheeks. "I'll certainly let him know. Jack did an excellent job calming Rose down. I can't thank him enough for his presence," he admitted, acknowledging Jack's role in the situation.
An awkward silence settled in the room. "Well, I suppose it's time for me to leave. City planning awaits. I wish you a speedy recovery, Olivia," he said, his tone a mixture of apology and goodwill.
Olivia nodded, her expression softening as she acknowledged his words.
Returning outside, the captain noticed someone waiting by the tent. It was the lord from earlier.
The captain glanced at him, his tone stern. "Oh, it's you again. I hope you're not here to threaten her once more, I presume?" he said.
The lord quickly raised his hands, eager to explain. "No, Captain. I merely needed to apologize to her. I didn't intend to cause such distress to her daughter. You see, I have a daughter too, and I lost her in the blizzard. Seeing that little girl reminded me of my own daughter. I hope you can understand," he explained, his voice earnest.
The captain nodded in understanding. Many people had loved ones separated by the blizzard. Allowing him entry, the captain cautioned, "Her daughter is sleeping. Mind your words, citizen," he said firmly.
"Of course, sir. Thank you," the lord replied respectfully as he entered the tent.
As the Captain was about to leave, another person walked up to him. He looked very serious about something. "Captain, can I have a word with you?" He asked.
His accent was not local, and his demeanor was very introverted. He’s an American, a likely foreigner that was looking for work in the Empire, and lucky enough to be in an expedition. Not many were given the chance, most were told to stay back in London.
Brushing that thought aside, the captain speaks, “Of course, and you are?” He asked.
“I’m Walter. Look, why I came here to talk to you about that little mess that happened this morning, and I even heard about some people asking you to force children to do labor work.” He spoke.
The captain felt tense under Walter’s gaze, “What of it?”
“I understand what it's like to choose something you don’t want to, even if it means to improve the situation. Whatever happens it still comes down to you to decide it. People usually look for the quickest solutions, not the best ones. You don't have to agree with everything they ask. You fix the problem your way, that's fine. Just a small piece of advice." Walter said.
"I see. Alright, I'll keep that in mind. Thank you, Walter." Said the captain.
Walter offered no further words, just a silent nod before he walked away, attending to his own tasks.
The captain stood there, reflecting on Walter's counsel. Deep in thought, he eventually made his way back to his tent. After removing his coat and hanging it by the desk, he settled into his chair, hands resting on his face as he let out a sigh. Unrolling rolls of paper, he began to write and draw, delving into the intricate planning of the city.
His mind focused on the essentials: food, housing, and medical care.
As he meticulously scanned through his plans, a nagging feeling of something crucial being overlooked persisted. After hours of contemplation, the young Captain resolved his plans for the next day. He realized he needed the input of the engineers; tackling this task alone would be foolhardy. Satisfied with his progress, he carefully placed his papers back on the desk.
Later, he lay down on his bedroll, hoping for rest before the challenges of the next day. However, sleep eluded him, his mind troubled and restless, pondering the weight of his decisions.