C1 Remains

The North Pole, Earth's magnetic pole, rendered ordinary navigation into chaos, leaving only satellite navigation as a viable option. Moreover, as the coldest point on Earth, the North Pole was notorious for its extreme cold, perpetual snowstorms, and poor signal reception.

No commercial airline dared to establish a deep route into the Arctic. Only the military had the audacity to undertake flights in such conditions.

But there are always exceptions.

By chance, there was a decommissioned military aircraft. By chance, Egil was a former military pilot, and by chance, the research team from Azure Dragon Garden was headed to the North Pole.

So there sat Egil, alone in the cockpit, braving the North Pole's formidable weather.

Egil, with a touch of indolence, reached for the communicator, intending to warn his fellow passengers about the impending turbulence.

Instead, he was greeted by their laughter and singing over the communicator, with songs about the Great Wall, ancient paths, and the throngs of students...

Is this what the top university was like? Egil pondered briefly before switching off the communicator, abandoning the idea of notifying his classmates.

After all, he had never attended university himself.

Full throttle! The aircraft plunged into the blizzard! It was time to execute the most drastic evasive maneuvers!

Though he hadn't experienced university life, Egil was familiar with the sentiment, "Bring on the storm with even greater fury! Hahaha!"

The aircraft danced wildly through the storm!

Boom! The plane made its landing in the snowy expanse.

Finally grounded, Egil took a deep breath, dried his eyes, and his fierce expression softened back into his usual nonchalance.

He opened the cockpit door and stepped into the cabin.

"Damn it, Becky's face is all swollen!" he exclaimed as a fist came flying at him. Egil deftly tilted his head, avoiding the blow.

Had he extended his hand beneath the other's recoiling arm and delivered a chop to the neck, it would have resulted in a severe concussion and a dislocated shoulder. And considering the equipment racks where the person would have fallen, the injuries could have been even more severe.

But Egil restrained himself and refrained from striking back.

"You..." The other man stumbled, ready to charge again.

"Ivar! Don't be rash!"

The other male students restrained their hotheaded peer, Ivar.

The cabin was a shambles. Aside from Becky with her swollen face, several female students were attending to an elderly professor's head wound.

Egil approached the main cabin door and pointed at the old professor's head, "No seatbelt, that's a 50 yuan fine! And a two-point deduction!"

"You!" Ivar broke free from his classmates and lunged at Egil!

With a whoosh, Egil yanked the cabin door open!

A frigid gust of wind blasted in, carrying the Arctic's icy bite!

Within seconds, Egil slammed the cabin door shut.

Snow now blanketed the cabin, with Ivar and several students sprawled out, shivering uncontrollably.

The old professor, seated by the door, was spared from the snowy onslaught. He coughed and said, "Ivar, don't act on impulse. The pilot opened the door to show you the situation outside. We're in the Arctic, and he's done all he can."

Ivar, teeth chattering, nodded in agreement.

"Uh, professor, you've got it wrong," Egil drawled, leaning casually against the cabin wall. "That wasn't why I opened the door."

The old professor, Ivar, and the other students were taken aback.

Egil flashed a grin that was just asking for trouble. "What I'm saying is, with this much snow, you've got two choices: wait here for rescue or fly the plane back yourself! So, come on, hit me!"

An hour later, Egil emerged from the cabin, dressed in a suit as protective as an astronaut's, with boots studded for grip.

His tools were encased in fur.

The sight of the landing gear was startling, indicating at least two days of work ahead.

The snow on the ground had been scraped away by the plane's landing. The freshly fallen snow was soft, and stepping on it felt odd.

Egil crouched down, brushed aside the new snow, and revealed a grid-like pattern on the ground, orderly and seemingly man-made.

Upon closer inspection, the grid was composed of marble, stretching out into the distance... A marble street!

Egil stood up and surveyed the area. That meant the snow mounds the college students had been investigating...

He switched on his walkie-talkie and caught the fragmented voices of his classmates over the public channel.

"Beep, beep... There's something here too... Beep, beep!"

"Beep, beep, beep... we've detected something artificial... beep, beep, beep."

"Beep, beep... hahaha... beep, beep... a major discovery... hahaha."

The excitement in the voices was reminiscent of a movie Egil had seen before. It featured a team of scientists, too, but they weren't in the Arctic; they were in the desert. What they had unearthed wasn't a street, but a tomb, supposedly belonging to someone named Tutankhamun. Egil couldn't recall how it ended.

But even if he did remember, it probably wouldn't be relevant. There was one decisive difference between the two scenarios.

This was an isolated island in the Arctic, and as far as records showed, humans had never set foot here before. And in the times not chronicled by history, humans lacked the capability to reach such a place.

Yet, here lay a street!

A prehistoric civilization? That didn't seem right either. Such ancient relics should be entombed in thick permafrost... Of course! Global warming!

The snow beneath their feet had been scattered by the landing aircraft. Egil stepped out of the plane's vicinity and after sweeping away the snow for about 500 meters, it was clear that the snow layer was originally quite thin.

Just how wide was this street? Egil's curiosity was piqued, perhaps spurred on by the infectious enthusiasm of his classmates over the public channel. After a flurry of activity, he cleared a section of the street and was about to roughly gauge its width when he noticed some peculiar traces.

Scratches! The marble was hard, and although some of it had been split by the cold, these were distinctly different from scratch marks.

The scratches were long... Suddenly, Egil had an epiphany and dashed back to the front of the aircraft's landing gear.

He knelt down, sticking his rear end up in the air as he examined the marks closely.

There were similar traces on this side too! Identical to those on the other side!

Hahahaha! Egil realized the truth and couldn't contain his laughter.

Once he had his fill of laughter, there was no more time to tend to the landing gear.

The students, along with the old professor, had all returned.

During a polar expedition, it was necessary to find ways to warm up and drink some hot water every hour.

Egil opened the cabin door, the smile still lingering on his face: "You're back. Hehe, what did you find?"

A female student answered, "A relic! We've located the relic mentioned on the stone slab! It's of Atlantean style, though it somewhat clashes with the Lemurian style described on the slab..."

"Uh-huh..." Egil nodded, not understanding a word.

Ivar stepped into the cabin and remarked, "What's the point in telling him about this? He likely has no clue what the Dialogues even are. It's like playing the lute to a cow."

"Ivar, watch your words," the old professor chided as he sat down, supporting his waist.

Egil chuckled, "Haha, no worries, I didn't understand a bit of it... I simply wanted to extend my congratulations on your significant discovery. Hahaha!"