Story Reader / Main Story / 33 Wither to Shine / Story
Ishmael changes out of her researcher's uniform and sits by the table, gazing at the star-filled sky beyond the window.
Outside, stars are scattered evenly across the sky, their brilliance undiminished by the hot star overhead. Magnificent structures with bold, sweeping curves interweave across the landscape, gleaming in the starlight.
The girl is waiting for the appointed time to arrive—
Ah, it's time.
The stars used for timekeeping flicker several times across the firmament, signaling the appointed hour has arrived.
The <b><ud><color=#34aff8ff><link=19>terminal</link></color></ud></b> emits an urgent notification sound. Ishmael taps on it to input the preset coordinates into the door.
The door emits a soft sound. Ishmael puts on a relaxed smile and opens it. She has already made plans with her colleague from the institute to visit the city's recreational district—
Outside the door, skyscrapers appear tiny as ants as the girl materializes in the cosmic space, tens of thousands of meters above ground. A protective shield quietly activates, safeguarding its master.
Ah...
It's been too long since I've space-jumped. How did I end up sending the door way up here?
Frustrated by her mistake, the girl quickly locks back onto the correct coordinates.
Before she can even pull the door open, the voice of her colleague comes through from the other side.
May the Four-Winged White Raven protect—Ishmael! You're the last to show up again!
With a mix of laughter and reproach, the black-haired girl pulls Ishmael through the door.
You're the one coming early. I was just a bit tired from working overtime, and I accidentally typed the coordinates wrong...
Pfft, whatever! You're buying the snacks today, no ifs, ands, or buts! We agreed on this already, remember?
Alright, leave it to me. I just got a bonus anyway...
The girls laugh and jest as they make their way through the city.
This is the greatest era. Shining like a sea of stars, their civilization has led them to the glittering stage of the universe.
They store energy from hot stars, possessing an almost inexhaustible power source. They can utilize spatial physics to instantly anchor teleportation points that lead to other cities or even somewhere between stars...
The footprints of their civilization have spread throughout the galaxy. They are about to set sail, exploring a deeper future and the more mysterious realm of "time".
Looks like your instructor is as generous as usual. Meanwhile, mine never throws in any extra bonuses.
Sipping on another super sweet drink again? Be careful, or you'll get sick.
No way, I'll be fine.
Ishmael stirs the drink. Etha smacks her lips, then suddenly speaks as if remembering something.
Oh right! Have you heard about that... you know...
She lowers her voice, speaking in a mysterious tone.
What?
Do you seriously not know?! You've been grinding too hard with all that overtime...
It's about our... our research institute. We captured a really strange record...
Etha quickly scans the area, confirming no one is watching them, before adopting a secretive tone in her speech.
Remember when I mentioned someone at the institute had this wild idea and built a weird machine? They say it could capture "<color=#ff4e4eff>messages</color>" from either the far future or the distant past.
That machine has been sitting there running all this time. Since it doesn't consume much data flow, nobody has ever bothered to shut it down.
Then, a few days ago, someone accidentally noticed that the machine had received...
The dark screen flickers with eerie green light as massive data streams rush across it. The captured "information" resembles a tiny bug, stored in a wormtrap in the bottom right corner designed for specific data.
So... what exactly did it receive?
Actually, it was just two bytes...
Heat death.
The black-haired girl casually drops these two words as if they were nothing significant.
...
How is the institute responding to this "message"?
Hmm, opinions are all over the place, just like always. Everyone's spouting their own theories, talking past each other.
Some people are totally convinced that it's like a legit message transmitted from like a zillion light years away, some kind of doom and gloom prophecy, blah blah blah.
Some claim it must be fake, suggesting a thorough check of the facility's surveillance terminals. They believe someone with ill intentions has infiltrated specifically to play malicious pranks and sow fear...
Etha purses her lips dismissively, apparently finding neither theory particularly convincing.
Heat death...
Ishmael furrows her brow as she can't shake the feeling that there's more to this message than meets the eye.
Hey, that look on your face... You're not going to sprint back to work overtime now, are you?
Etha alertly grabs hold of her.
...Relax. I was just reminded of something my professor once said, that's all.
Ishmael pats her reassuringly.
Oh yeah, Professor Raheleh's research is all about time and heat death... How's it going with her work? Is her universe model still not done yet?
Gathering information on heat death by creating a cosmic regression model... Hmm, that still feels pretty shaky...
I'm not sure, she's been very busy lately. I haven't heard her talk about the progress, and she hasn't even replied to the thesis I pulled an all-nighter to finish...
But if—and I'm just saying if—heat death is real... what would happen to us?
Ugh...
Etha chews her food, lost in thought for a moment, then shakes her head as if dismissing the ideas in her mind.
Even if that message is legit... The Four-Winged White Raven protects us, but if heat death really does come, how can we possibly solve it?
Everyone knows that heat death is the universe's ultimate end. We can't possibly solve irreversible entropy increase...
Ah, sorry, I didn't mean to mock your research. It's just...
The girl looks at Ishmael in confusion.
I still can't figure out why you ditched the popular interstellar exploration back then, picking the whole time and heat death thing instead.
After all... there's no true "answer" to that, right?
...I'm not really sure. Maybe I was just purely interested in the subject back then.
The pink-haired girl tries to recall her thoughts after graduation, only to realize that the memory eludes her entirely.
Why did she choose to study time and heat death... Was it because of a nightmare from long ago, envisioning a universe consumed by heat death and eerie silence? Or was she drawn to Professor Raheleh's presentation when choosing her research project?
Stars cannot burn forever, and information cannot be reversed.
Therefore, my in-depth research focuses on time and heat death.
My goal is to construct a <b><ud><color=#34aff8ff><link=20>macro model of the cosmos</link></color></ud></b>, simulate the cyclical phenomenon of cosmic regression, find solutions to heat death, and explore the possibility of information reversal.
One day, I will transcend time, find the solution to heat death, and reach the end of the starry sky.
Even today, she still remembers her instructor's recruitment speech.
Beyond the magnificent and awe-inspiring thesis lies a romantic and extraordinary cosmic mythology.
...
Hey... Hey! You're spacing out again.
Forget it, let's not talk about those mood killers.
Hey, did you check out those new vacation planets in the brochure I sent you yesterday? We promised to go on a trip together during our next holiday!
I... I'll look at it right now! Sorry!
Ishmael quickly opens the message from her friend, revealing a captivating array of vacation planet holograms that spring to life. An animated virtual tour guide enthusiastically details the unique features of each planet.
There is the anti-gravity Bola, where sea water envelops clouds on the horizon; Moya, characterized by its pale rocky terrain, known as the filming site for the trending series adaptation of "The Legend of the Gray Star"; and there's also Andymion...
This planet's in a stable binary system. Andymion orbits a single star, and the other's too far to matter.
But this is precisely what creates a dreamlike spectacle—
Oh! You're also interested in Andymion?!
Etha leans in and notices the page where Ishmael's finger has paused.
Yeah, my professor's friend happens to live on that planet...
Wow, that sounds awesome! Too bad Andymion is so huge. If we really wanted to check it all out, our short vacation wouldn't even scratch the surface.
I really want to see Andymion. I heard they have the most beautiful sunsets in the whole galaxy...
Let's go together on our next long break.
Ah, you're right. We'll get our chance eventually...
The girls have already put the mysterious message out of their minds.
This is civilization at its most brilliant. They can accomplish anything except controlling time itself. And they are about to explore even more distant realms of the universe—
Heat death is merely a hypothesis...
Existing only in fiction...
A catastrophe too distant to ever reach...
It would never truly come to pass.
Heat death may be just a hypothesis, but soon we will truly master "time" itself.
A sea of researchers crowds the front of the research institute, eagerly awaiting Raheleh's latest research announcement.
We have verified the possibility of time travel.
She unveils the curtain behind her, revealing a massive machine in the room. The crowd erupts in astonishment.
Time travel... has truly been verified?
Prior to this, we have conducted multiple verifications. Many pioneers have already used this time travel machine to advance forward or back in time.
As agreed, they have all left sufficient evidence at different points in time, proving the effectiveness of this time machine.
The middle-aged woman displays a series of projections: the marking of the research institute left on a rock wall billions of years ago, a pioneer deliberately appearing at the moment of a famous historical figure's death, and even...
With the time travel coordinates pre-set, a pioneer, guided by the time travel terminal, slowly materializes beside the time mainframe.
I adapted the idea of communication terminals, employing the mainframe for anchoring and the terminals for linking to data streams. The mainframe is powered by a planetary computer.
When tethered to a specific temporal locus, the terminal leverages data stream transmission to ferry pioneers to their intended temporal destination. The mainframe securely fixes their point of return to ensure no divergence on the journey back.
I won't disclose the specific operational concepts here...
But... with such a machine created, what can you actually use it for?
Research acceleration? Space jumps? But these don't hold any substantial significance for our civilization.
That's a good question. This leads to the second announcement I wanted to share with everyone today...
The middle-aged woman smiles, her expression brightening at the thought of her soon-to-be-realized "dream".
I will be the first scholar to enter the time travel machine and commence temporal travel.
The course of history cannot be altered. Even as a scholar, what do you expect to accomplish?
Naturally, I'm not going to the past, but rather...
The future.
She gazes at the machine—the fruit of decades of her dedicated research—as if looking at her child, her eyes gleaming with pride.
Ishmael will take over my research on heat death and continue developing and refining the cosmic model, while I...
I will journey into the future and explore the possibilities of temporal extension.
I will send messages back from the future, employing advanced technology and observations to further refine the cosmic model, seeking a solution to heat death, and overcoming this unsolvable challenge.
Without a doubt, no one takes Raheleh's words seriously—they dismiss them as just another of her far-fetched fantasies.
Constrained by the paradoxes of history, no one dares to recklessly attempt traveling to the past or venturing into the future.
To beings with nearly limitless lifespans like themselves, the time machine is viewed as a mere novelty for travel—a concept dismissed by many as incapable of achieving anything truly meaningful.
Research Institute
Three days later
Research Institute, three days later.
The excitement surrounding the time travel machine's unveiling has temporarily subsided, leaving only a handful of key researchers busily adjusting the device.
...Do you really have to go yourself?
Following her instructor's request, Ishmael assists with adjusting the machine's data stream while looking at her instructor with concern, who has already equipped the time travel terminal.
Of course... Do you remember what I told you?
Truth only exists in your own eyes.
Her pupils sparkle with light, carrying the weight of her dreams.
When I was still a young girl... I often found myself wondering: What lies at the end of time?
Is it the heat death brought by increasing entropy, or another space? Or perhaps... the deities in the legends?
She pats Ishmael's shoulder in a reassuring gesture.
This is a great opportunity, Ishmael. I'll obtain more knowledge in the future, and I'll use the mainframe to transmit that knowledge back to you.
Civilization cannot survive solely on stellar energy. Stars will eventually extinguish, and when the universe goes dark, heat death will inevitably approach. We must find a way... to survive this catastrophe.
...I understand. It's just...
Don't worry, I've already forwarded that paper I haven't read yet to my old friend... You know her, Ta·3T-class. She'll be transferred back to our institute soon and continue the project with you.
...I'm not worrying about my paper, Professor.
Looking at Ishmael's solemn expression, Raheleh gives a resigned smile.
Oh, look at you. So serious for someone so young, completely missing my joke.
Don't act like this is some final farewell. You know this experiment is perfectly safe. For you, it'll be as if I've just... gone on a long journey.
We'll meet again in the future. Then, I'll take you to Bola to try their local specialty—skyfish. Deal?
...Okay.
Wiping her reddened eyes, Ishmael forces a smile.
Calibration complete, coordinate anchoring finalized—
We can begin now!
Let's go, then.
Goodbye, Ishmael.
After readjusting her time travel terminal, Raheleh smiles at Ishmael.
Goodbye...
Deep blue light melts like liquid, enveloping the middle-aged woman.
She vanishes from where she stood.
After that day, everything returns to normal.
Ishmael continues her instructor's incomplete experiment using the data stream Raheleh left behind.
They are attempting to construct a grand cosmic model that simulates the universe's cyclical process of infinite expansion and contraction.
Their goal is to predict when the heat death of the universe will occur and explore the possibility of information reversal.
Time passes by, day after day.
At first, Professor Raheleh occasionally sends back data, seemingly having arrived at a distant future.
Continuously, she keeps transmitting inferences about the cosmic model, having observed much more accurate data in the "future"...
—▅▅▅, ▅:▅ : This is such a fascinating experience.
—▅▅▅, ▅:▅ : I can't reveal details, but this is really intriguing. You should see it for yourself.
—▅▅▅, ▅:▅ : "Inference #487 Regarding Updates to the Cosmic Model"
—▅▅▅, ▅:▅ : I never expected... it would be like this.
—▅▅▅, ▅:▅ : "Backward Approach to Cosmic Model Updates"
But after that...
Hey, Ishmael!
The black-haired girl gently taps on the window frame, signaling her arrival.
...Is it mealtime already?
She reflexively checks her terminal, yet no notification chimes. Beyond the window, the stars designated for timekeeping remain dim and lightless.
No, that's not it. We've received another weird message.
Why are you spacing out... Still worried about your instructor? Take care of yourself, okay?
Etha slips in through the doorway and refills Ishmael's cup with a fresh drink.
Yeah. Although the time mainframe still maintains a connection with the terminal she equips, she hasn't sent any messages back for quite some time.
Thanks to the information Professor Raheleh has been sending back, the cosmic model is approaching perfection, but the lack of any messages from her for such a long time remains concerning.
Maybe... she's been sending messages to her family instead?
...Maybe.
Frowning in thought for a moment, Ishmael confirms once more that the mainframe hasn't received any transmissions from Raheleh before turning to look at Etha.
It's not mealtime yet. Why did you sneak out?
Huh...
Etha, her arms folded, appears to be caught in an intense internal conflict. Emotions flicker unpredictably across her face. Eventually, after a prolonged pause, she breaks the silence.
Screw it, I think I should tell you anyway, even though my instructor told me not to say anything to you. They're worried it might affect your condition...
Because... and I also think it's just a coincidence, but... take a look at this.
Etha projects a note from her terminal.
Remember that machine capable of capturing "messages" from either the far future or the distant past?
After capturing that first message, my instructor specifically arranged for people to check that machine regularly. Just yesterday, we discovered it had intercepted a new message from the data stream...
Technically, this is classified, but it contains information about you, and since you're part of the research institute, you fall under its knowledge-sharing system. That's why I dared to bring it out to show you...
...
She gazes at the note in shock.
Ishmary, the heat death hypothesis has become <color=#ff4e4eff>reality</color>—
When... when approximately was this message received?
According to the time it was captured by the wormtrap... it was 23:03 standard time yesterday.
...
At 23:03 standard time yesterday, the time mainframe did indeed register a minor fluctuation... Could it be related to this "message"?
...I still think it's just a coincidence. Given enough time, even a monkey with a typewriter could produce a literary masterpiece. Besides, they couldn't even spell your name correctly.
She points at "Ishmary" written on the note and shakes her head.
The machine must have computed this on its own, extracting data from recent information streams and simulating this...
You're right.
Ishmael maintains a frightening calm as she records the characteristics of this unusual fluctuation's data stream, collects relevant information from the surroundings, and archives all the data. Only then does she slowly turn her head.
Only my professor would misspell the "mael" in my name as "mary".
"Ishmary".
...
With only outlandish speculations, there is no way to verify that "the heat death hypothesis has become reality".
Ishmael diligently seeks help from every available source. Working with her professor's friend, the scholar named Ta·3T-class, they have captured fragment after fragment of information from the river of time.
—▅▅▅, ▅:▅ : I entered the "<color=#ff4e4eff>future.</color>"
—▅▅▅, ▅:▅ : Limited by certain rules, I can't leave behind much information. Could it be "God" or "cosmic law"?
—▅▅▅, ▅:▅ : I see ▅▅▅universe▅▅▅ about to perish.
—▅▅▅, ▅:▅ : The data stream▅▅▅irreversible▅▅▅.
—▅▅▅, ▅:▅ : ▅▅▅▅▅it▅▅▅▅come▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅
—Ishmary, the heat death hypothesis has become <color=#ff4e4eff>reality</color>—
Messages left by her professor in the future keep appearing, coinciding with the abrupt loss of connection between her terminal and the time mainframe—
She has disappeared, vanishing into the "future" of an unknown time far ahead.
Countless pieces of evidence are laid bare, forcing the Galactic Research Institute to confront this terrifying truth—
The heat death hypothesis has become reality.
Heat death cannot possibly exist! We still have countless stars, and the universe is boundless—how could there ever be a day when everything is exhausted?!
But what about the rate of reproduction?
With medical care so perfected, living beings barely age or die. After a certain period, our population would completely fill a planet...
Now, even the most inhospitable planet Bola has begun accepting immigrants. If this continues, we'll eventually fill this entire galaxy.
There's still the next star system, and the universe much wider beyond. It took us tens of thousands of years to deplete this planet's resources, and now, we've even begun creating new planets ourselves...
But it's only been less than two thousand years since we began exploring this galaxy.
Now, the energy required for annual migration to other planets drains one-tenth of an entire star.
After another hundred years, another three hundred, another five hundred...
Or you think we can just brush it all off and wait like this until heat death comes to pass, when the entire universe is completely extinguished—like a candle burned down to nothing?
...
The heated debate momentarily ceases, and the room falls into complete silence.
...I still believe heat death is absolutely impossible. We shouldn't dive headfirst into this research solely on the basis of Raheleh's personal theories.
But apparently, this has already become reality.
The renowned director waves a hand in irritation, seemingly unwilling to continue this part of the discussion.
Many of the messages Raheleh sent back have been verified. Though lacking in detail, they're sufficient to confirm the authenticity of this information.
Furthermore... after obtaining the information from her, Ishmael and Ta·3T-class have improved the cosmic model she left behind.
The cosmic model?
Do you remember Raheleh's original research direction...
Construct a macro model of the cosmos to find solutions to heat death and explore the possibility of information reversal.
The director pinches the bridge of his nose and waves his hand, signaling Ishmael to continue speaking.
With the data and information continuously transmitted back from Professor Raheleh, we have perfected the cosmic regression model that previously had flaws.
A complex information projection materializes in front of the desk, with a series of parameters continuously scrolling by.
Since this cosmic model was originally created to calculate heat death, it has always featured a "countdown" display.
When the model calculates that the universe has begun its contraction cycle—that is, when heat death is approaching—this cosmic model would automatically initiate a "countdown".
Previously, when the model was still incomplete, the "countdown" section always showed garbled code, until...
Until a few days ago, when we filled the last gap in this model using the information sent by the professor.
The young girl's face appears pale while a long string of numbers in the information projection flickers incessantly, gradually dwindling in value.
<color=#ff4e4eff>Ten</color>... standard years from now.
But... but how can you be certain this is real...?
...After our discovery, we requested a batch of experimental subjects.
The pink-haired girl purses her lips, a sense of discomfort evident in her expression.
We have attempted to send them to a time beyond the countdown deadline, with a simple button designed to transmit information back to us.
Until now, the time mainframe hasn't received a single message from them.
Ishmael lowers her eyes as she projects a series of information onto the display.
Travelers sent over ten standard years into the future have completely lost their connection to the mainframe, and the information fluctuations that have appeared right before their disconnection are... exactly identical to that of Scholar Raheleh.
They all hit a "wall".
A wall known as heat death.
...
The crimson numbers hang over everyone like the Sword of Damocles, emitting an ominous ticking sound.
They have left no information behind. There's no way to even surmise what exactly happened to them. I can only analyze based on this data...
Before this, they have never considered such a grand proposition.
In such a vast universe, how could the heat of stars possibly be exhausted?
Even if the main sequence stars were depleted, there are so many others—unstable pulsating variables, late-type giants, flare stars, and other variables...
With such abundant resources, they could even activate massive stellar core attractors to create their own asteroids... How could heat death possibly come?
However... through a series of meticulous verifications from every possible perspective, evidence has consistently validated Raheleh's hypothesis.
...
What are you planning to do?
Continue Raheleh's research.
The director gestures to Ishmael, who furrows her brow and begins explaining her instructor's research with visible unease.
Raheleh... Professor Raheleh once proposed that there might exist a certain substance in the universe capable of storing "information".
Using this "information" as a medium, perhaps our civilization could be stored within it, transcending the heat death of the universe in an alternative form...
She designated this research as a contingency project for "surviving heat death", which is why another research team has been continuously advancing the study.
In the preliminary stage, we have confirmed the existence of the hypothesis and reached conclusions through theoretical material calculations. Subsequently...
The Galactic Research Institute immediately assembles a specialized research team to take over Raheleh's work.
Massive detectors are built one after another, with the largest one occupying an entire asteroid.
They have invested the maximum amount of funding and resources, trying desperately to find that seemingly fantastical substance.
Whoa...
This is really something else...
Etha gazes at Ishmael's completely renovated laboratory, clicking her tongue in amazement.
My instructor tried forever to get this mass spectrometer, but now you're here, juggling three of them like it's no big deal!
Ohhh, and this one here... this terminal is monitoring that legendary gravitational matter detector installed on a planet, isn't it?!
Her face beams with excitement as she watches the information continuously scrolling across the terminal's screen.
This is amazing... I'd love to visit that planet someday and see that legendary detector in person...
Hey, why do you still look so glum?
Etha playfully nudges Ishmael with her elbow.
Yeah...
Ishmael shows little enthusiasm for the new laboratory equipment. She frowns as she studies the information captured by the terminal.
I'm just feeling a bit uneasy.
Uneasy? What's there to be uneasy about?
You've got all these people helping with your research, plus all kinds of high-end detection equipment and unlimited funding. Isn't that awesome—
Etha draws out her words as she plops down in a nearby chair.
But... the cost of all this is too high.
In our recent experiments, each activation of the gravitational matter detector consumes one-tenth of a star's energy.
The "information" isn't decreasing—it's actually increasing at an alarming rate instead.
...Two stars have already been extinguished.
...
Are the higher-ups unaware of this?
I've already brought this issue up, but...
Ishmael, you must understand one thing.
The director of the Galactic Research Institute speaks with a steady voice that brooks no argument.
Our civilization has reached its current state through billions of years of accumulated progress.
It stands like a brilliant lighthouse, continuously radiating light throughout the universe.
Our civilization is at its most prosperous moment. We have already mapped out this galaxy, this universe, and now we are advancing toward even deeper, more distant frontiers—
At this juncture, we needn't worry about one or two stars.
His figure stands tall, with his back to the window.
Rather than concerning ourselves with extinguishing a star, what we need to consider is "preserving everything we currently have".
It's about "preserving our civilization"—protecting it as it navigates through the heat death.
No matter the cost... we must keep it safe.
The director turns his head, glancing at the timekeeping star outside the window.
...
Geez, that's really a lot of pressure... I can't imagine having so many big shots keeping an eye on everything I do.
It's not just about the pressure though. I can't shake the feeling that this is not the right approach.
But it's hard to do anything about it, you know. Information is irreversible, like spilled water from a cup—it's impossible to gather it all back up.
Don't worry about it! Just let the big shots handle all those headaches—
Alright! Time to clock out!
Etha springs up energetically from the chair.
Let's go hit the shops!
W-wait a moment...
Pulled along by Etha's grip on her arm, Ishmael only manages to switch off the lights before being hurriedly whisked away.
In the dimly lit laboratory, large equipment blinks with rhythmic patterns of light—
▅I▅▅SH▅MARY▅▅— ▅DO▅▅▅▅NOT▅▅▅EXPLORE▅——
Throughout this enormously expensive experiment, stars across the universe continue to extinguish one by one.
The Galactic Research Institute seems entirely unfazed by the escalating costs. When one galaxy extinguishes, there's always another. The universe is vast and infinite—they wouldn't trouble themselves over such concerns.
The galactic exploration team hasn't brought back news from other universes yet. Before the last main sequence star in this universe extinguishes, the experiment team led by Ishmael finally has discovered that special "substance".
It is a coincidence that seems destined to happen.
Execute routine information logging and organization—
***Authorization Verification Successful***
***Standard Time 7871/22/15***
Gravitational matter detector compressing ▅▅ substance
***Experiment Failed***
***Standard Time 7871/22/18***
Gravitational matter detector compressing ▅▅ substance
***Experiment Failed***
***Standard Time 7871/22/21***
Gravitational matter detector compressing ▅▅ substance
***Experiment Failed***
...
Failure record... 22:15, failure record... 22:18, failure record...
A long list of failure records lines the terminal screen, but Ishmael remains undaunted.
Scientific research has always been a cycle of relentless toil, where the fruits of success are notably scarce, let alone when they're practically searching for a virtual substance that might not even exist—
***Standard Time 7871/<color=#ff4e4eff>23/03</color>***
Gravitational matter detector compressing ▅▅ substance
***Experiment Successful***
Gravitational magnetic field captured ***<color=#ff4e4eff>Code Virtual Particle</color>***
23:03... record... successful...?
Her eyes widen as she looks in disbelief at the rapid stream of data cascading across the terminal's interface. Her gaze locks onto the luminous red words flashing boldly before her: "Experiment Successful".
How... how is this even possible...
It actually exists...
Inside the laboratory, the experiment terminal rapidly records all information, with bright red text flashing repeatedly across the screen.
***Standard Time 7871/23/03*** Gravitational matter detector compressing ▅▅ substance***Experiment Successful*** Gravitational magnetic field captured ***Code Virtual Particle***
