POV: Time Variance Authority

"What method?"

Elias's query—made the technician pause in surprise.

"Violent force," he explained, almost apologetically.

The safe installer clarified, "We once had a client whose financial officer was in a car accident, and the company urgently needed the official seal stored in their safe. They ended up hauling the entire safe to a junkyard and using an oxyacetylene cutting torch to slice it open."

He went on: "This safe is solid steel—an average cutter or crowbar can't break it, and even explosives won't do. Only a 3,000°C oxyacetylene flame can melt through that kind of steel. It's truly a last resort."

Elias raised an eyebrow. "You said oxyacetylene torch?"

"Yes," the worker confirmed. "It's a tool that burns pressurized acetylene to produce a superheated jet of flame, reaching around 3,000°C. That level of heat can liquefy steel in industrial applications."

Shortly after, they handed Elias a form to sign, along with a set of instructions and a contact number, then departed.

"An oxyacetylene cutting torch…"

Elias tucked that detail into the back of his mind. He couldn't help recalling the deposit box in the dream's bank vault. Its paint was chipped and the metal rusted. Even if it was made of steel, at 3,000°C it would be little more than soft butter.

***

Elias assumed he'd soon race back into the dream, torch in hand, and cut open the lockbox with his name on it. But the universe had other plans.

As the company's brand launch approached, everyone at MH Cosmetics was working frantically. Elias and his small team found themselves staying till midnight or later, with no time to nap—let alone dream. His dream sessions vanished for days.

No one else was spared either. Day by day, Ms. Harrington began showing subtle dark circles, wearing her exhaustion behind a polished façade.

***

One afternoon, Elias had just finished a design task when his phone rang. The caller ID read Professor West. He picked up instantly.

"Elias! Are you free now?" West's voice was bright with excitement.

"I'd like you to witness a historic moment!"

A "historic moment"…? Elias guessed West must've completed the cryonics fill-liquid. He glanced at the clock—nearly two in the afternoon. He was busy, but West sounded ecstatic, and Elias didn't want to dampen his enthusiasm.

"Of course, Professor. I'll come to the university right away."

He handed off some tasks to his subordinates and caught a taxi to the university.

***

The minute Elias arrived, West practically dragged him toward a sealed pod in the corner of the lab.

"Look here," he said, eyes shining. "This little white mouse has been in a -60°C environment for 40 hours now."

Elias leaned in, the chamber's surface giving off a frosty chill. Inside, the tank was filled with a pale-blue liquid. In it, a tiny, sensor-laden mouse curled motionless.

"It's basically in deep hibernation," West explained excitedly. "Forty hours without eating, drinking, or moving—yet all vital signs remain perfectly stable!"

Elias peered closer. The mouse appeared dead, but every few seconds, its abdomen gave a faint twitch—proving it was still alive.

Pointing at the display readings, West said, "A normal mouse's heart rate is 500 to 700 beats a minute, with around 150 breaths. That's why mice only live three or four years. The faster the heartbeat, the shorter the lifespan. Right now, though—"

He gestured for Elias to see the screen:

Heart Rate: 21 BPM

Respiratory Rate: 7 BPM

"See?" West said. "They're slowed down by a factor of thirty. Every metabolic process has decelerated roughly thirtyfold. In effect…"

"Inside this low-temperature chamber, the mouse's aging is slowed by a factor of thirty."

Elias nodded in appreciation. That tracked with the basic premise of cryonics, where living creatures might "sleep" through decades.

But West made it clear: the real difficulty lay not in cooling them down but in thawing them safely. He had invited Elias today precisely to observe the rewarming stage—"the truly historic moment," as West put it.

Elias watched West operate the apparatus. Over about half an hour, the fluid temperature rose toward ten degrees Celsius.

At that point, West performed a series of adjustments—

Suddenly, the mouse began thrashing inside the pale-blue liquid, scraping its claws along the tank walls.

"No worries," West said quickly. "The fluid's extremely oxygen-rich, so even if it's in the mouse's lungs, it can still breathe. Although, it's definitely uncomfortable." He rubbed a hand over his own chest, as if imagining how it might feel for a human. "But theoretically there's no risk of suffocation. Just as I suspected—still, it's the first time we've tried it."

With a loud beep, West drained the liquid from the chamber and carefully lifted the now-awake mouse out, peeling off the attached electrodes.

Squeak-squeak! SQUEAK!!"

The little creature flailed violently, shaking droplets of fluid from its fur before springing from West's grasp. It scampered across the lab, brimming with frantic energy.

"It's… unbelievably lively," Elias marveled. "Forty hours in -60° cold, basically in suspended animation, and now jumping around like that?"

West nodded, proudly acknowledging this partial success. Of course, it was just an initial test, a rudimentary "Cryonics Chamber 1.0," nowhere near the dreams of centuries-long stasis. But it was an undeniable triumph, setting the stage for the next breakthroughs.

Elias could see the joy in West's eyes—Kate's salvation seemed nearer than ever.

Watching the mouse scurry behind a desk, Elias murmured,

"Professor, how many years until a fully functional cryonics chamber might become reality?"