Three large opaque glass cylinders, resembling laboratory bell jars or museum display cases forgotten in the dark, enclose the three vices forbidden by power: in the first stagnant liquid, two lovers cling to an embrace that death has made eternal and sterile; in the second, an old man holds a grandchild close in a protective contact that no longer has any future left to defend; in the third, a lonely elder continues to decipher the open pages of a book that no one will ever read again. They are the cataloged specimens of a humanity reduced to exhibits, the biological and emotional synthesis of an archived species: love, descent, written memory. At the foot of these monumental display cases, on the bare floor of a post-historical world, moves the only surviving life: a colony of black rats, sleek and swarming. Indifferent to the beauty or the pain of the human wrecks suspended above them, the rodents comb the dark with a blind urgency, entirely absorbed by their logic of immediate survival, by the frantic accumulation of crumbs and material waste. The museum no longer documents knowledge, but the accomplished replacement: culture has turned into preservation fluid, while the future belongs to the anonymous voracity of those who only know how to devour and accumulate.