[ WP ] You live in an emotionless world , nobody feels anything ; love does n't exist , only genetic materials matter . But one day , after waking up , you start to `` feel '' .

The Sinner floating in fluid; free and silent. The dead pulse wakes someone else up who is n't you. Make sure you're awake, Sinner. Wake up. Two eyes open to remind the Sinner of where he is, but one peels in a slight delay to make way for the other. To be sure; it is n't someone else who woke up this time, as he would have surely known. Fluid is drained from the tank; water beads on his skin as it drips from the ceiling, a thin film covering the rims of eyes, that ca n't be rubbed away. 
 
 A string of words recognized on a computer screen, staring back into that film. a keyboard with some missing teeth. The sinner is now a commodity. Webbed feet now touch a hazardous surface; the Sinner knows he is in an impending position. he thinks and thinks for his life and preserves his sin by thinking. Looking back and forth, the Sinner knows he has n't chosen this. he remembers everything. The Sinner then thinks for himself: 
 
 not this room oh where am I I know where I am but it should n't have been. Cold. What is this feeling I know it is a feeling but how do I know what feelings are if I have never felt them before? I feel vacant. How am I consciously thinking about what I'm feeling? I've never heard of feeling in that sense. Feeling is n't something we do anymore. It's not who I am. If I was in any other position, I would have to fake the notions of not being able to feel. but I've been put in this position. Many people must know that I can feel now. Someone must be here... what then? Sinner. 
 
 Drip. Drip. 
 
 I notice a figure coming up to the terminal and typing something into it. His fingers dart across the keys as if not even touching them, and a heavy, spring-loaded clacking sound reverberates throughout the hallway in a solo performance. After a symphony of this lasting for several seconds, the conductor makes his final movement, hitting a single key that cracks into the quiet. Four claws at the top of the cylindrical structure make a sound similar to that of a cocked gun, folding back on their hinges and retracting, before the entire tube encasing separates into two C-shaped halves, takes two steps backwards and then falls down, disappearing seamlessly. I spend several vacant moments considering the possible outcomes following this, which immobilizes me in a state of apprehension. I never knew apprehension, only the consideration of possible outcomes. 
 
 `` I see you're awake, Sinner. we wanted to make a model just like you, but we did n't realize that there was really no other way to do this other than taking ourselves as a sacrifice in order to testify to the experience upon reversion. ” 
 
 `` Why did you give me this?'' 
 
 `` We forgot what they were, and wanted to see what they would do to a person. Historical documents may tell us of why people might do something, but there is no replacement for experience. Just because we do n't have them does n't mean that we can not be organically curious or consider. We are not reptiles or robots. We also make errors.'' 
 
 Quiet. 
 
 In my position, I did n't think that he knew what he thought he knew. What happens when you separate experience from feeling? Does it then just become information? Is there any way to truly experience the horrors of emotion if you have none yourself? There have been generations lacking this for centuries. But it ca n't simply be information if there is still curiosity. Why would you be curious for any reason other than emotion? For power? But even then, what motivates a desire for power? It is said that if an artificial intelligence improved its ability to learn, it would simply grow and grow without limitation, simply for the purposes of improving itself. but that does n't mean it would do anything this drastic. I never questioned anything that was outside of what was requested of me. I simply became information and light and breath and flesh. 
 
 The sinner took a minute to consider this, and to consider his allegiances, before responding. Now a leper among men, he wondered what his outcome would be. Too paralyzed by his castrated and vulnerable position to respond in anger or hysterics, he was now relegated to simple query, perhaps just to pass the time until the next obstacle. That was something he was in touch with. Passing the time. 
 
 `` Like the film in your eyes, you are now blinded by your feelings, but we ca n't be completely sure of it. The caustic effect of emotions on man's productivity - and even greater, happiness - that was what drove us. Our motivations were not to hurt him, but to help him become the best he could possibly be, in every regard. Emotional growth was that of pain, and pain eliminates ignorance, for sure, but there are some who were newborns that behaved as though they had already run the race of ages and bled much. We wanted those who did not cry at a pinprick, so that their youth would not be wasted on intelligence nurtured by pain. That halts the progress. You were one of them, one of the people who did n't flinch at those oppressions that would cripple someone with less resilience.'' 
 
 At this point there was no response. He knew his allegiances. It was loyalty to humanity, not only Them. Was his initial response to his newfound condition then detachment or strength? If he had to become a Sinner - even collateral damage himself - for the sake of assurance that emotion was indeed a long-cauterized wound in the history of people, he was willing to live in that. 
 
 The Sinner therefore sins with his conscience clear.
