The Coldest Winter Ever 2 の小説・ストーリー

The Moonfall bunker was experiencing the winter season. The Dead Zone surface froze after the explosion, which brought chilling temperatures that spread through Sector Two's large opening. The warm underground air which had been present for weeks turned into a harsh freezing wind. I stood at the Sector Two chokepoint while two heavy wool blankets wrapped around my body over my sweater.

The city had become a massive skating rink. The temperature was unforgiving. Even fully armored, anyone could remain outside for only fifteen to twenty minutes before lung damage set in. He carefully steered the car out of the neighborhood. Onlookers couldn't help but stare, both shocked and envious. The good news: the fog had cleared, and the deadly hail had stopped. The bad news: the temperature had plummeted again. Senna City had never experienced anything below –10°C. No winter clothes could truly protect against this cold. Layering was one option—but how many layers could a person wear before being weighed down and clumsy?

Heavy snowstorms throughout the winter delayed upcoming raids, a storm so severe that even Terrance and Phuture didn't want any parts of adventuring outside. The storm lasted for weeks throughout majority of the month of December, a record-breaking storm that was never supposed to take place in the history of Greenland. Heavy winds, freezing weather, and snow devastated states that barely had ever seen snow in the south. The east was engulfed in snow during the storm as well, forcing everyone to mostly stay stationary where they were before the sudden storm.

The underground bunker, hidden from satellites and maps alike. “This is it,” he said as he shut off the engine. “From here, we shift.” They moved with practiced ease. Thick winter coats were exchanged for lighter base layers better suited for shifting. Bags were re-packed, fastened tight so they could be carried by their wolves. Celeste stood at the edge of the vehicle, her breath visible in the icy air. The snow was coming down harder now, thick and fast, sticking to lashes and hair within seconds. The cold crept through her clothes, but the anticipation warmed her blood.

Snow fell in soft spirals, the sky a silvery gray canvas. “Did it snow all night?” I asked, quietly. “Yes,” he replied with a faint scoff. “I hate the snow. Crimson Dusk has long, bitter winters. But the season will pass. Very soon.” I nodded absently, but it wasn’t the cold that bothered me. It was the image of the captives, Zevarion, sleeping outside, shivering under open skies, stripped of warmth. I imagined the snow clinging to their skin, burying them slowly.

“Zayn MacQuoid, you can’t be this selfish! I’m working hard right now. I can’t have kids!” I compromised to quell her anger. I valued her career, but she resigned so that she could take care of Charles and Caleb better. Besides, she used the money I had saved for retirement for Caleb’s wedding. My leg hurt terribly during that winter, but I was too poor to see a doctor. Moreover, the temperature at home was freezing. It made me shiver. I tried calling Layla for money, but she hung up on me repeatedly. I could not hold on since I was old. In the end, I froze to death.

Soon, old scandals resurfaced, banks withdrew loans, partners abandoned ship, and reporters besieged the mansion. Kirk updated me. "Richard blames it all on Olive, saying she colluded with outsiders to drain the company. Liam and Neal have cut ties with the Winters and are being hunted by Richard's enemies." I paused on a page—an equity certificate for a biotech company my mother owned. In my past life, Richard had obsessed over it but couldn't unlock its technological secrets. I closed the file. "Time to let him know what it feels like to lose everything." Three days later, the Winters Group declared bankruptcy.

*Winter* The cold air seeped in through the cracked dormitory windows, a steady reminder of the raging snowstorm outside that turned the quaint village into a frosty wonderland. I had been locked inside for what felt like an eternity—two days, but who's counting? As beautiful as winter is, it brings its moods, unpredictability, folding over me like a heavy blanket of snow. It seduced me with its shimmering appeal yet warned me sternly—it was a force to be reckoned with, not to be tangled with.

A week might sound short, but for those huddled in the cold, with nothing to do but endure, it felt longer than seven years. At first, there had been hope. Now, nearly everyone had accepted the brutal reality: waiting at home for rescue was almost futile. The Internet made it clear that this was no ordinary blizzard. It was a catastrophe that occurred once in hundreds of thousands of years, blanketing the entire globe. Some northern cities reported temperatures below -100°C. Snow there fell so heavily that entire metropolises were buried beneath white death. Official channels still broadcast messages of encouragement, urged solidarity, and promised survival. But a glance outside at the froze

However, he never showed himself, leaving me with no chance to vent my frustration. This absurd routine continued until the Snowcrest New Year. It was the grandest festival on the Snowcrest Plateau. To my surprise, John did not show up. By the time the sun was setting, I overheard people talking. Another avalanche had struck the Skyspire Mountains. My eyelid twitched. A moment later, the neighbor’s daughter spotted me and asked in surprise, “Dr. Summer, isn’t that handsome guy with you? He went to get you a gift, didn’t he?”