Long before algorithms wrote poems or diagnosed illnesses, writers were asking the big questions: What does it mean to create intelligence? What are the risks of building minds we might not control—or even understand?

You're sitting comfortably on your $8,000 Japanese bidet toilet, enjoying the heated seat and perfectly calibrated water pressure, when suddenly it hits you: what if this technological marvel is secretly working for Beijing?

Beneath the velvet curtain of techno-benevolence lies something colder: a system engineered for retention, the careful management of perceived agency. The platform doesn't enforce your loyalty. It cultivates it, like a hydroponic crop.

Lev didn’t consider himself a violent man. He saw himself as a custodian of continuity. A son of systems.

In the shadowy worlds of espionage fiction and film, few objects are as loaded with meaning as the wristwatch. More than just a timekeeping device, it is a symbol of precision, control, and mortality—a ticking reminder that, in the spy’s world, every second counts.