"Where did I place it?" Z-12 muttered under his breath, frustration creeping into his voice as he rifled through cluttered drawers, shoving aside half-finished sketches and dust-covered blueprints. His mind was a whirlwind, spinning with calculations, fears, and the relentless pressure of time. Every second that passed brought him closer to the inevitable, closer to the edge of failure.
The lab around him was a chaotic mess—papers scattered like forgotten thoughts, old vials lying empty, and the scent of chemicals lingering like ghosts.
Tomorrow, Tony would still be in jail.
Tomorrow, Gabby would be hanged.
The thought hit him again with full force, and he paused, breathing sharply through his nose. Then, his eyes landed on it—tucked behind a cracked beaker and a long-dead circuit board. A dusty vial, glowing faintly in the dim light, its contents shimmering like liquid stars trapped in glass.
There it was. The serum. A drop is just enough to cause an unforgettable moment cleared off . However it worked clearing latest information, -Its concentration determine the how far information will be cleared in a matter of time.
Still unnamed.
He named it 'Portion-X'.
He turned, eyes scanning the lab. He needed test subjects. Living ones. Something simple, something whose instincts and reactions he could observe without question. That's when his gaze caught the shadowed corner of the lab, beneath the edge of a worn, dust-draped tarp.
Animal cages.
Mice.
Of course.
With quick, purposeful strides, he approached and pulled back the tarp. The scent of old straw and faint ammonia met him as he peered down into the cages. Dozens of mice scurried or slept, but his attention locked on one particular cage—just as he remembered it.
A pair
A male and a female, kept together for over a month now. He had been watching them passively through the weeks. They had become a pair in every way—eating together, curling up beside one another at night, their movements nearly synchronized. There was an odd beauty to it. An instinctive partnership that, while simple, held meaning.
Z-12 found himself hesitating for a moment, then shook the feeling off. They were perfect for this.
He brought the cage carefully to his table, examining its structure and the two creatures inside. "Sorry, friends," he murmured, almost under his breath, more to himself than to the tiny animals. "But I need results. There's no time."
With a gentle motion, he reached into the cage, using a bit of scent-laced food to lure the female mouse to one side. She followed the bait with slow trust, unaware of what was about to unfold. Once she was separated, he slid a thin, metallic barrier between them—dividing the cage in half. A low scrape echoed as the divider locked into place.
The male reacted instantly, scratching lightly at the divider, tapping his tiny paws against the metal as if asking why. Z-12 paused to watch, noting the confusion in its behavior—the need to return to its companion.
He turned back to the table, uncapped the vial, and brought out a small cube of cheese. Carefully, he tilted the vial. One drop. The liquid glistened as it soaked into the cheese, casting a faint shimmer across its surface. A strange aroma rose from it—sharp, unfamiliar.
He placed the baited cheese on the male's side of the cage, just beyond his reach.
m
The mouse sniffed the air. Its whiskers twitched. For a few moments, it simply stared. Then, drawn by instinct, it stepped forward. Sniffed again. Nibbled.
Z-12 leaned in, tension mounting like a storm cloud behind his eyes. "Come on… comeon…"
He watched with burning focus as the mouse ate.
Minutes passed.
Then, once he was sure the serum had time to take effect, Z-12 reached out again—his fingers slightly shaking—and removed the barrier.
The metallic clang as it hit the tabletop echoed strangely loud in the room.
The mice were together again—no barrier, no division. Free to reunite.
Z-12 watched. He expected a spark of recognition, a slow move toward each other. Maybe a hesitant greeting, followed by comfort.
But the male did not move.
It remained perfectly still. Still as stone.
The female, after a few moments of uncertainty, began to move. She sniffed the bedding, crept forward in cautious steps, every motion echoing familiarity. She inched toward him, low to the ground, her body language unsure but hopeful.
Then, as she neared—barely a whisker's length away—the male's body jolted.
He reared back suddenly, emitting a shrill squeak, high-pitched and defensive. And before Z-12 could even blink, he lunged.
Violent. Sharp. Unprovoked.
The female squealed, startled, and darted back, fur flaring in panic. But the male was relentless. He attacked again, hissing in his tiny mouse way, clawing and snapping, chasing her into the corner of the cage like she was a threat—an invader.
Z-12 froze. Pen hovering mid-air. Breath stolen.
This wasn't normal. It wasn't territorial behavior. It wasn't confusion.
It was rejection.
Total rejection.
He watched, stunned, as the female curled up in the corner, trembling, licking her wounds. Her eyes darted around in panic, desperate for safety. The male, meanwhile, stood at the opposite end of the cage—calm, indifferent.
As though she meant nothing.
As though she had never meant anything.
Z-12 slowly sat down, the weight of the realization crushing his chest like a stone.
He tapped the glass of the cage once with the end of his pen, then leaned back.
"Forgetting…" he whispered, voice cracked and low. "He forgot her. Completely."
All the days they had spent together, the closeness, the routine…
Gone. Just like that.
Wiped clean.
And that was when the full scope of the serum's power dawned on him.
This wasn't just confusion. It wasn't a temporary disorientation.
It was erasure
The dismantling of memory. The destruction of connection.
The rewriting of identity.
Z-12 stared at the cage, eyes wide.
If it worked on a mouse—then maybe… just maybe…
It could work on humans.
The guards.
The jailers.
The ones who stood in the way of Tony's freedom as well as Gabby.
Maybe… just maybe… it could make them forget him (Tony) and Gabby.
Forget who she was.
Forget their very loyalty to the ones who ordered it.
Z-12 stood slowly, gripping the vial tighter, his expression unreadable.
It was time to test how far Portion-X could go.
And how much he was willing to sacrifice to save the one person who still mattered.
.............