Two Worlds in the Apocalypse: Each journey through the modern world lasts 60 seconds.

The gale-force winds, accompanied by blizzards, raged across this frozen land for three whole days.

For the next three days, Xu Mo's activities were completely confined to the shelter. He did not risk going up to the third floor, nor did he try to observe the meaningless outside world. All his training—stance training, strength control, and cold weapon practice—could only be carried out in the relatively safe training room on the first floor.

However, even indoors, Xu Mo could clearly feel the rapid deterioration of the external environment. The howling wind and snow never ceased, as if countless giant beasts were frantically crashing against the building.

The changes below are even more visually striking.

Xu Mo knew perfectly well that the windows on the first floor had been sealed and reinforced from the inside, but at this moment, even through the wall, he could "feel" the heavy snow piling up and pressing down.

At the foot of the stairs leading to the first floor, the chill intensified noticeably, as if a giant ice cellar lay below. By the third day, when Xu Mo occasionally looked down, he noticed that even fine snowflakes had begun to seep in from the cracks in the doors and the edges of the sealed windows near the entrance to the first floor. This indicated that most of the space on the first floor was likely completely filled or deeply buried by snow.

A rough estimate suggests that the snow depth outside the building has exceeded two meters. This means that the first floor is completely unusable. Fortunately, Xu Mo's main activity area is on the second floor, and most of the supplies he had stockpiled were also stored there, so no substantial damage was caused.

The real challenge comes after the blizzard stops.

On the evening of the third day, the blizzard that had raged outside the window for three days and three nights finally began to subside. The wind stopped, and the sound of the dense snowflakes falling disappeared, replaced by an absolute, chilling silence.

Xu Mo waited for a while to make sure the snowstorm had really passed before clearing away the snow that had accumulated on the edge of the second-floor window.

After doing all this, Xu Mo went up to the rooftop, and the sight before him made him gasp for breath.

The snow has stopped, but the world has not returned to "normal".

The sky was no longer leaden gray, but had turned into a deeper, inky black, as if it could absorb all light. There were no clouds, no stars, no moon, only boundless, bottomless darkness, like a huge black velvet curtain covering the entire sky.

Below lay a world reshaped by the snow. All the low ruins, streets, and abandoned vehicles had vanished, leaving only an endless expanse of flat, pure white. Against the absolute darkness, the snow's surface gleamed with a faint, cold, eerie light, but this light was insufficient to illuminate anything; it only served to accentuate the eeriness and deathly stillness of the environment. His three-story building stood like an island in a white ocean, its second floor directly above the snow, offering a glimpse into this desolate world.

There is no daytime.

The blizzard ended, but daylight did not arrive as expected.

The entire world was plunged into absolute darkness. Only the cold watch face on his wrist reminded Xu Mo that it should have been "dawn" at this moment.

Although he had anticipated and even imagined the possibility of "eternal night," Xu Mo still felt a strong sense of unease and an indescribable sense of oppression when this scene actually arrived.

He wasn't afraid of the dark—he had plenty of light. Nor was he afraid of the cold—he had enough fuel and a strong physique.

This unease is more like a sense of bewilderment and awe stemming from a life instinct, a feeling of being utterly overturned by the laws of nature. To rise with the sun and rest with the sunset is a rhythm etched into our genes—except, of course, for those who stay up late. Now, the sun seems to have completely "abandoned" this land; this feeling of losing our bearings makes even time itself seem blurry and questionable.

Xu Mo stood by the window, gazing at the inky black sky that seemed to swallow everything and the snowfield below, remaining silent for a long time. The wind was still biting, but much milder than the previous blizzard. The surroundings were eerily quiet; even the occasional howls of wolves that had been heard before had completely vanished, as if he were truly the only person left in the entire world.

"It seems the worst fears have come true," Xu Mo muttered to himself, his voice unusually clear in the absolute silence.

Xu Mo slowly exhaled a breath of white air, watching it quickly dissipate in the cold air. He felt uncomfortable, but he had to accept reality and continue to face it.

After confirming the situation outside, Xu Mo returned to the training room. He turned on the radio, but it still emitted the disappointing static. It seemed the signal hadn't recovered after the snow stopped; perhaps the ionospheric disturbances were still ongoing, or perhaps some shelters were also experiencing problems due to this extreme weather.

Turning off the radio, Xu Mo slowly assumed the stance for his qigong practice under the cold, steady light of the LED lamp. As the sun disappeared, he no longer gained any qi, but he still needed to continue practicing.

Regardless of whether it is eternal day or eternal night outside, improving his own strength is the only path he can grasp and must persist on.

......

The broadcast resumed on the fourth day after the blizzard ended.

When the familiar buzzing sound of electricity was replaced by a clear human voice, Xu Mo, who was maintaining his gun and habitually adjusting the radio, suddenly stopped. He immediately turned up the volume and placed the radio beside him.

Instead of the usual supply information or survival guidance, the voice coming from inside was that of an unusually serious announcer, with a barely perceptible urgency, repeatedly emphasizing:

"This is a repeat announcement from the Jiangcheng Shelter. The eternal night has been confirmed. All survivors, please remain highly vigilant. Do not go outside unless absolutely necessary! If you must go outside, please, please ensure you have a stable and continuous light source! Note that this is not ordinary darkness. Prolonged exposure to darkness may lead to severe mental confusion, hallucinations, and even irreversible cognitive damage! Again, you must have lighting when going outside..."

"To reiterate, this is the Jiangcheng Shelter broadcast; Eternal Night has been confirmed to have arrived..."

Xu Mo frowned slightly, listening intently. The focus of this warning seemed to be not only on the inconvenience and potential dangers brought about by darkness itself, but also on the impact of "lightless environment" on "mentality".

"Lighting...mental derangement?" Xu Mo repeated the key words in a low voice, a hint of understanding and a new seriousness flashing in his eyes. He had previously thought that the eternal night would bring psychological repression, but he never thought that it would directly lead to such serious physiological or mental consequences.

Soon, the channel switched to the Rock Base's frequency, broadcasting almost identical content. The fact that both vaults were issuing such clear and consistent warnings simultaneously speaks volumes about their authenticity and importance.

After repeatedly emphasizing the warning several times, the announcer softened their tone slightly and added another piece of information:

"Based on current observational data and scientists' predictions, this global perpetual night phenomenon is expected to last for some time, though the exact duration cannot be precisely estimated. However, it is certain that when the perpetual night ends and daylight returns, global temperatures are expected to rise significantly, and the current extreme cold is expected to ease. Survivors, please maintain your faith, stay in your shelters, conserve resources, and await dawn..."

This predictive news, like a glimmer of light, attempted to pierce through the endless darkness, offering a glimmer of hope to those in despair. Rising temperatures were undoubtedly one of the most longed-for news items for all survivors struggling to survive in the bitter cold.

Xu Mo silently turned off the radio, and the training room returned to silence, with only the LED lights emitting a steady white light.

He walked to the window and looked out at the snow-covered plains once more. The broadcast from Jiangcheng confirmed his two suspicions: the eternal night had arrived, and this extreme cold was not permanent. But at the same time, it also brought a new and more concrete threat—the erosion of the mind by the darkness itself.

"A light source... isn't just for seeing, but also for protecting one's mind?" Xu Mo mused. His battery and fuel reserves were sufficient to sustain him in the shelter for an extended period, but he needed to be more careful with his resources. If he were forced to venture out in the future... then the reliability and durability of his light source would be a matter of life and death, perhaps even more important than weapons.

Xu Mo looked back at the stable indoor lighting and felt a little relieved.