Twelve years. That was the number they were left with. It felt like a death sentence. Twelve years to change the world and make sure things would not end up as dire as they could be. Of course it felt like a death sentence pronounced while on the back of a giant sea monster. Sure, things could be changed but the rampaging monster refused to turn back.
It’s a myth. Here’s a snowball.
What did it matter to the high and mighty if this lumbering heat continued? Politicians could retire to their air-conditioned mansions. As the consequences grew dire, they could simply pay to avoid the destruction. Sell their seaside homes and move further inland. These dire days would not affect the rich, they would affect the poor.