#ableverse

The presence of heavysoliders in Siberia has been the origin of countless stories—typically ones of horror or heroism, depending on which faction’s territory you may find yourself in. One tale stands out from the rest however, coming from a commune a few kilometers out from Yakutsk. Multiple soldiers have claimed witness to it, but both the man and heavysolider involved have never been witnessed or identified. A man from Moscow had traveled thousands of miles in search of a particular creek his father had taken him to as a child. The chaos of that decade had taken everything from the man, and he was determined to find that creek. Even if he died trying. The path was long, arduous, and cold, but he found it. The little stone bridge he used to throw rocks from still stood, though overgrown with moss. But there was another presence there—one much larger, tougher. A metal man stood tall, camouflaged and eyes glowing a deep red behind a metal mesh. The large barrel on his head swiveled to the man as the two looked at each other. The tense exchange lasted a beat, but eventually the metal man looked away. The man approached, and the metal man remained still as a monolith. Feeling the heat emanating from the metal man’s innards, he stood close and warmed up. There was no objection from the metal man. “What are you?” the man asked, breaking the silence. It was a compulsion, the curiosity surrounding the metal man drawing him nearer. No words came from the metal man. There was no movement, as if the metal man hadn’t even heard him. When he moved in front of the metal man and repeated, the metal man looked down. His barrel nearly touched the man’s head, and his eyes illuminated the man’s face. There was no response, but the metal man’s innards grew louder. Hotter. “Who are you?” the man asked differently. He spoke softer. The metal man’s innards quieted down, the heat slowly dissipating. He crouched down, now level with the man’s height. He extended his clawed hand, its wet metal reflecting the light of his meshed eyes. Cautious and confused, the man took it. The metal man, still looking into the man’s eyes, pulled him into a tight embrace. The sudden movement scared the man, momentarily believing the metal man had attacked. But he only found the metal man’s warmth when he opened his eyes and exhaled. The metal man, as mechanically still as he was, held tight onto the man with a loving tenderness. The man reciprocated the gesture, his arms wrapped around the metal man’s exposed neck. The rain failed to chill the man, as the warmth from the metal man penetrated deep under his clothes. A shout rang from the distance, over the hills surrounding the creek. Other shouts emanated, soldiers were approaching. The metal man quickly rose, keeping his embrace of the man tight. In a beat, the metal man broke for the treeline. The soldiers, catching a glimpse of the man, shouted out.  The man had no care. He only gripped onto the metal man tighter. They disappeared into the trees.

The discussion on sentience has been one of both philosophical and scientific debate since the emergence of each respective field. Even attempting to tap into that debate is wildly outside the scope of this opinion piece. The long and short of it—sentience is the experience of emotions and cognitive abilities, and we aren’t close to even figuring out what it is, physically.

Last night’s violence is a common scene across the rest of the United States, most notably in Houston and Chicago, where violence continued throughout the entire night. Cities like Seattle and San Francisco, however, have been able to control the expansion of the riots and have even begun to push back on the violence. The future seems uncertain, many bracing for even more unrest as Election Day draws near.