𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐖𝐈𝐍 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐗 ✓

29: MOUSETRAP

"I am a mouse trapped in a
laboratory labyrinth.
And up, somehow,
I keep running into you.
...maybe you're my way out."

...

At the pinnacle of humanity's reign, when the planet teetered on the edge of ruin, a new science emerged, seeking to replace the faith that had long been lost. Science had always existed, but in this era, its power knew no bounds. It became a beacon, a guiding light amidst the chaos that reigned supreme.

The blazing fluorescent lights shone down on the empty biosafety cabinet, casting an unsettling reflection on the metal bench. After flipping the hood switch, he waited a few seconds for the fan to start, slowly at first, then building pace to run with a non-stop roar.

The mechanical sound provided some solace, but it would have to suffice for the time being. A madman and his experiments were concealed under the Harvard Laboratories' ostensibly secure walls.

Making the outcome and aims of his experiments known, he was about to risk all for what seemed like a dream. Except for the maintenance crew, the lab was generally vacant at this hour of the night, but there was one little desk lamp flickering away in the dim offices.

The solitary scientist remained working away on his computer as soft clicking sounds resounded through the silent corridors.

Sejin, who may have been around twenty-five, appeared rather young to be a skilled scientist. As he attempted to dry his now-watery eyes, his lips parted slightly to let out a tired sigh.

"I need a break," he grumbled as he peered over at the edge of his desk and read the nametag that rested there, 'Flint, Research co-ordinator.' He gazed at the gleaming metal plate, his thoughts racing with the want to chuck it across the room.

"Sure sir, would you like some coffee?"

Flint was the head of the team assigned to him, which Sejin obviously had denied a lot of times.

Nodding his head in affirmation, he watched the man stroll down the corridor, his light dimming into the murk. Having a little helping hand was good, always.

The metal bodies had found a home in the bland, soundproof room. Sejin had been working for the past ten days, relentlessly locked up in the basement laboratory.
The experiment was government funded, but it looked more like a structure of a madman's fancy. The foundation itself seemed to be sinking into the swamp, and there were new wings and sections added on, seemingly at random.

The mice that lay silently over the tablecloth were pathetic, their paws curled up against their chests, feet outstretched as though making a final push out of their execution chamber. Sejin bent his elbows and picked one up, separating it from the rest; it took up just a fourth of his hand. The fur was damp and sanitised for the experiment with a single spray from his isopropanol bottle.

It had been the first experimentee of the paradox. The mouse had been artificially inseminated with twins, bred, and the twins were artificially introduced into the whole scenario. One twin was locked up in a torture chamber, the chamber playing the earth, and the other was put inside the revolving little replica spaceship.

The weirder fact was the timeclock. The time space inside the walls of the spaceship and the chamber was faster. In a span of one hundred and twenty minutes, the experiment had given away its results.

The mouse inside the spaceship was still a baby, but dead. The one in the chamber had aged up and died.

The whole Harvard community had immensely congratulated him, and he was beyond ecstatic, but there were flaws.