I could see them kilometers away. North America's infamous glaciers.

            As the heli-plane made its final descent, I narrowed my tired eyes to see clearer out the window, only for my muzzle to blur the momentary view. Some of us woke up in awe at the sight. I could see the outline of an Outpost and the tall ruins contrasting the endless tundra. A younger passenger, one who'd never been onboard one of these, let alone flown before, murmured to her tired mother at the distant glaciers. Before I could hear the rest of it though, the plane slowed mid-air and floated down onto the landing pad.

            “Good morning, ladies, gentlemen and anthroids, and welcome to the St. Louis Glacial Outpost, the 'Gateway to the North'. Mind the gap when exiting the aircraft."

            A 'Gateway to the North'. From what I learned in my training courses, this wasn't always the case Before St. Louis, Denver held that honorable title, preceded by Chicago, then Minneapolis, Seattle and Edmonton over a few millennia. All of them eventually abandoned by the encroaching mountains of ice and snow.

            Walking out of the heli-plane with a suitcase in paw, the freezing temperatures immediately slapped my muzzle. I hurried inside the terminal, where the scanners confirmed my identity, before finally finding the small airport's entranceway.

            A mini-drone hovered towards me as my holographic name appeared. “Welcome to St. Louis, Ms. Vale." a voice greeted. “You're the last anthroid to arrive this morning."

            “Sorry about that," a sigh escaped my breath. “Flight got delayed."

            My name disappeared from the air. “Come with me."

            I followed the mini-drone out into the cold outside, and entered an articulated bus parked a stone's throw away. Part of me couldn't help but stare at the robotic sphere before it reconnected to its charging station; these types of mini-drones were the same ones used for either expedition reconnaissance or policing cities within the Equatorial Safe Zone.

            Inside the vehicle, I set my suitcase on the top compartment and found an empty seat. Beside the window sat another anthroid wearing an ESZ uniform, this one Snow Leopard Class instead of Arctic Fox. He had to be older though, with a scar almost invisible under his greying fur. My tail wagged nonetheless, and I couldn't help but offer a paw upon sitting beside him.

            “Pleasure to meet another one," I spoke to him. “I'm Rosana Vale. Junior archaeologist."

            Surprised at first, the middle-aged feline contently shook my paw.

            “Dr. Lucas Mendoza, chief archivist and—"

            “—first human to be turned into an anthroid…" I finished for him, freezing in my spot before the bus jolted forward. “Y-You're the Dr. Mendoza?"

            He chuckled lightly. “I take it you're a fan of my work?"

            “A fan?" I nodded and giddily laughed. “You're the reason I volunteered to become an archaeologist anthroid. I-I was inspired by you as a cub to join Project Atlantis!"

            Having been raised and trained in São Paulo my entire life, I'd only seen images of the Northern Hemisphere before and during the glaciers. Most photos were lost due to the devastation of famine and warfare, but a few relics showed how much humanity thrived in the North. And among the history vids I watched were those detailing the adventures of Lucas Mendoza. Close to four decades ago, he became the first human to successfully be genetically engineered into a full-bodied anthroid. Beforehand, animal and machine augmentations were only possible in some respects, until Mendoza volunteered to be the first test subject for experimental animal/android amalgamation.

            Why, do you ask? For science, and the chance to fully explore the Northern Hemisphere without human limitations. It wouldn't be long until anthroids became the norm for expeditions.

            “Well then," he smiled, his spotted tail wagging at our ankles. “I'm honored to know my work has inspired many. Thank you for dedicating yourself to coming up here."

            “It is our duty to understand humanity's past," I commented. “And this is exciting. I've never been this far up North before. It's…colder than I expected."

            “Yes, yes," Dr. Mendoza agreed, “but wait until you visit the Chicago site, young one. When you come back, then you can tell me how cold it really is."

            While we discussed various topics, from our lives to the recent cavern found under the London glaciers, my eyes occasionally glanced out the window. We passed the legs of the city's archway (long since collapsed) along the frozen river. Towering buildings and half-collapsed structures, some of them either in pristine condition or nothing but rubble, remained of the once-populated city. Instead, its residents stayed in dwellings circling the Outpost, which came into view minutes later. A few of the humans, wrapped in coats and carrying ancient rifles, stared at the passing bus in intrigued awe.

            Although an evacuated region, bands of nomadic humans still called the North their home. I remember how me and a few trainee anthroids watched news vids in our downtime, and whenever a story came up involving a nomad attacks, my colleagues mocked them for living in hunter-gatherer enclaves outside the Equatorial Safe Zone. Far from safety and modern society.

            “Oh, yeah, the humans," Dr. Mendoza must've noticed my distraction, and turned just in time to see a young girl with a stick, waving at us. “Curious, isn't it? Their ancestors were unwilling to leave centuries ago, and they still won't leave with the glaciers incoming. My superiors see them as stubborn." He turned to me curiously. “What of you, Ms. Vale?"

            Blinking at his question, I looked back out to see the girl replaced by more permafrost tundra, and the shining titans of ice in the distance. I wondered if someday the glaciers would finally reach these ruins. Or if the ancestors of these remaining humans saw the future and knew the North would be ours again one day.

            Unfortunately, we arrived at the Outpost moments later, and I forgot my answer once everyone started exiting the bus.