A groundbreaking German cryonics start-up, Tomorrow.Bio, is offering a tantalizing prospect: the chance at a second life for the price of a luxury vehicle. But is cryogenics a genuine leap towards immortality, or merely an elusive fantasy?

In the heart of Berlin, a peculiar sight captures attention: an ambulance retrofitted for a purpose many deem outlandish. Its vibrant orange stripes contrast starkly with the clinical environment as it houses Tomorrow.Bio, the first of its kind in Europe, where they strive to preserve human life post-mortem. For a hefty fee of $200,000 (around €165,000), they promise that upon death, patients can be cooled and stored, hoping to be revived when future medical advancements allow for treatments of their terminal conditions.

Emil Kendziorra, co-founder of Tomorrow.Bio and a former cancer researcher, propelled by frustration over the slow pace of cancer cures, is leading the charge in this remarkable field. Cryonics, originally punctuated by skepticism since the first lab opened in Michigan nearly 50 years ago, is seeing heightened interest, with about 700 people signed up so far, alongside their four successful human cryopreservations to date. They plan to expand their service throughout the U.S. by 2025.

Critical voices exist, however. Critics like Clive Coen, a neuroscience professor at King’s College London, label the entire concept as 'preposterous.' No one has been successfully revived from cryopreservation, and the risks—like potentially severe brain damage—are significant. Some dismiss the promise of future technologies such as nanotechnology as mere overreaching speculation.

Despite these concerns, Kendziorra remains undeterred. Tomorrow.Bio operates under a structured protocol. Once a patient is determined to be in their final days, an ambulance is dispatched. Following legal death, the cryonics process begins—body temperature is lowered and replaced with cryoprotective fluids to prevent ice crystal formation that could damage tissues. This meticulous cooling process ultimately prepares the patient for long-term storage at a bitterly cold -196°C (-320.8°F) in Switzerland.

Remarkably, the future hope is that advancements in medical technology could lead to cures for the conditions that originally caused death, alongside the ability to reverse cryopreservation itself. However, such optimism leaves many in a state of skepticism. When a heart stops, cellular decay begins, prompting doubts about the feasibility of reviving a body after an extended time in cryogenic stasis.

Research in cryopreservation has shown potential; studies on rodents suggest organ revival is possible after cryogenic treatment. In a recent experiment, researchers successfully stored rat kidneys for 100 days before restoring them to full functionality. Yet, translating these successes from animal models to humans remains speculative.

Cryonics presents a striking juxtaposition against the booming life-extension movement, which largely advocates lifestyle changes for longevity. Whereas some scientists suggest focusing on cryogenic preservation of tissues for clinical use, the allure of reversing death captivates many minds.

The ethical implications surrounding such profound interventions are controversial. The clients of Tomorrow.Bio often wish to dictate their futures, with many choosing to invest in cryonics despite concerns from loved ones. Kendziorra argues for autonomy—many people spend extravagantly on less existential pursuits, making the $200,000 investment for a shot at life seem reasonable.

Client Louise Harrison, 51, reflects on her decision to enroll in the program out of sheer curiosity—a desire to explore the concept of time travel through revival. She expresses an indifference to the possibility of outliving her friends and loved ones, finding a compelling reason to believe in the future.

As Tomorrow.Bio gears up for its American debut, the interest in extending life through such unconventional methods has only surged post-pandemic, highlighting humanity's anxiety about mortality. The enduring question remains: will the dream of true life preservation transform from an ambitious hope into a tangible reality?

With Tomorrow.Bio aiming to preserve memory, identity, and personality by next year, can they really overcome the barriers of science? Kendziorra confides, 'I can’t predict the odds of success, but they seem more favorable than simply embracing cremation.'

Only time will reveal whether this bold venture will indeed become a ticket to cheat death. As humanity treads ever deeper into uncharted territories of science and technology, the fight against extinction enters a new, unanticipated chapter.