Trinity had headed towards the Core because of the loud sounds of an argument underway. She’d expected to see some of the newer crew engaged in some minor dispute as always but by the time she’d arrived the noise had died down. They were almost all there, but they were deathly silent. Anxious faces turned to her.
“What is it?” she stepped over to the Operator and glanced at the screens. No one said anything. There was nothing wrong with the Matrix, no miscellaneous AI that had begun appearing recently, no other rebels running for exits, not even any Agents going about their sinister business. Trinity looked up and was greeted by frightened looks. She looked back at the screens.
There was still nothing wrong… But there must be, otherwise… Otherwise she wouldn’t have this sinking feeling in her stomach, her senses wouldn’t be screaming at her that something terrible had happened…
“Neo.” She said, not looking up from the screens.
“We didn’t-“ one of them started.
“Shut up!” admonished another.
She didn’t say anything further, gaze travelling slowly to the cardiac monitor, the one that should be displaying Neo’s vital signs.
It had flat-lined.
Within the Mainframe, Raphael listened to the rebels inside the Matrix relaying the information to each other. That the One was dead. Their initial expressions of disbelief, then anguish, then despair were so very predictable. But Raphael didn’t mind, perhaps he had accomplished his goal after all; perhaps it would be the death of the One that would show them the foolishness of their endeavour. So many lives: lost, wasted because of their cause and in the end all it had taken was one death, the death of the One, their Messiah, to show them the truth… The horror that humanity was capable of inflicting upon itself.
“They will keep fighting.” Lucifer said from behind him.
And already the rebels were regrouping and rearming for their next strike. Raphael watched, disheartened.
“Why do they refuse to learn?” he turned an anguished gaze to his Captain.
“They are not ready to, I think.”
“And until they are ready, so many more will die.” Raphael whispered, turning back to watch the goings on within the physical construct.
“And that is why Order must be maintained within the Matrix, just as we maintain the Matrix itself.”
“Even though-“ Raphael stopped as he felt arms slide round him from behind. He tilted his head back to observe Lucifer.
“Even though it is all a vast construction of lies. We must maintain it, they must too…”
“They? The 7th Order?”
“Yes, Raphael, the so called Agents too.”
“Even the mad ones?” Raphael’s cheeky grin was back.
“Yes, my Lieutenant, even the mad ones.” Lucifer sighed.
There were many Agent Operations Plants within the physical construct, some serving different purposes to others. The room currently occupied by 0.2.8 was designated as part of, what would be described in human terms, a hospital area. It was in areas like this that Agent augmentation and restructuring took place. In one of the rooms Agent Smith lay, still in shut down. Various monitors beeped and carried out their functions around him. Delicate electrodes pierced his skin, with trails of wires attaching them to the equipment.
Brown stood beside the table where his Command unit lay. He watched the readouts, aware that Jones was looking at him from the other side of the table. The displays occasionally fluctuated. A chaotic pattern displayed, fighting against the uniformity being forced upon it. Brown watched with interest. It took only a few moments for the random waves to become uniform again.
“Will you stand there until he wakes?” Jones questioned.
In response Brown pulled up a chair and sat down. His gaze didn’t leave Smith’s face.
In another part of the same Operations Plant several bots hovered around another incapacitated form, fixing electrodes and adjusting equipment. Their voices floated around the slumbering figure.
“…project completed…”
“Exceptional results…”
“…will be pleased.”
“…Zion…no longer…”
The bots backed off as he came awake with a start, sitting blot upright.
“Wha-“ Neo began; freezing in place as a figure, a woman approached him. At least he thought it was a woman, it was difficult to tell since she seemed so indistinct and for a moment he got the impression of wings sprouting from her back. She leaned over, gently cupping his cheek.
And the Seraphim’s voice suddenly echoed in his mind.
“Welcome back, Agent Anderson.”
********************
The End.
19:47, 22/05/02