Here it goes. The Warlord Darnell take on the St. Malachy Challenge. I can feel the anticipation in the air. It's so incredible. Now, enjoy the take on motto number 61; De Parvo Homine.

Here's to you Qoheleth…

The Matrix: De Parvo Homine

Reality

Cold, silent, and empty. That's what awaited the people who were freed. A world where haven was underground, and Sentinels patrolled night and day.

Of course, it was impossible to know the difference. It was easier to realize when you were in the sewers. Here, there was very little light, outside of the artificial lamps that still glowed.

However, on the surface, it was a different story. Here, the ruins of the once great kingdom of man stood, shattered, empty, derelict. The ground the ruins stood on was hard, packed, rocky. There was no true soil. Soil came from the decay of dead plants and animals.

If you were to look to the sky from the surface, you'd see a thundering electrical storm, violent, dark, and foreboding. It fit the ruins that you saw above. Nothing could add to the atmosphere more. However, looking closely, there was still movement about.

The machines, they were the masters of the planet. They had their capital in the Mesopotamian desert, or what was the Mesopotamian desert.

Here, you could still find life, enslaved. There were whole stacked towers, with red pods along the outside. Lightning was seen around, gathering the energy from the pods.

Looking closer on the inside, one saw life enslaved. In each pod was a person, whether male or female. They appeared asleep, as they lie plugged in through more wires than a concert stage.

However, there was a purpose to the madness. Each human had been grown for a single purpose; power. Each one was essentially a battery, powering the machines.

However, they had no idea. Each one was living in a dreamworld, a two tiered code program known as The Matrix. It was a world akin to that of the modern past.

However, you could get out. A few had. There were people who still lived outside of it.

They lived in a city known as Zion. It was located deep underground, near the core, where it was still warm.

Even in the tunnels though, there was still movement. A ship, hovering, was making it's way around.

Looking closely at it, you'd see the words Nebuchadnezzar spraypainted across.

Inside, there was a man, Thomas Anderson. However, he was known as Neo to the hacking community back in the Matrix.

Neo

Breakfast. One of the few things that seemed to make sense. Entering the Neb's mess, he sighed.

He'd just finished helping with repairs. After the damage the Neb sustained at the hands of the Sentinels, he felt a bit guilty.

He'd been in there too long, and in his delay to get out, he'd cost the ship its roof.

He took a bowl and poured himself a meal. Eating was one of the few times he had where he could just think.

He took a seat at the empty table, and let his mind wander a bit. After a couple of bites, he figured that the whole mission was next to nothing in this war. He'd currently watched Apoc, Switch, Cypher, and Dozer get killed.

He wondered how they could possibly fight a war where after just one battle, they'd sustained 4 casualties.

"You seem confused." Morpheus' voice came from his left.

Startled, Neo turned his head.

"You've been thinking really hard there." Morpheus explained "What were you thinking about?"

"Well," Neo began "It's about the mission we had. If we're at war, and one mission caused that many people to die, then how do we have any chance of winning." He turned back to his food.

"We're losing." Morpheus answered "This war is still one sided at the moment. Even with you, The One, it's still a war we have no chance at winning."

"Then why fight?" Neo asked "If we're not going to win, then why fight?"

Morpheus grinned a small grin before replying "Because there are still people trapped in the Matrix. People who are unknowingly working for the enemy as they live their lives, trapped in wonderland without even knowing it."

"It's like David and Goliath." Neo mumbled, trying to turn back to his food.

"A little." Morpheus replied "We're fighting a losing war, without hardly an effect."

"Makes you wonder why it's worth it huh." Neo added. "Us all alone on this ship, we're losing a war we can't really fight."

"De Parvo Homine." Morpheus sighed.

"What does that mean." Neo asked, confused at the Latin words.

"We're little people of small significance." Morpheus explained "Small against the massive machines. Barely a thorn in their side. Insignificant to the last."

"So with us, all alone on this ship, there's really no hope." Neo sighed. "I should have figured."

"That's hardly the case at all." Morpheus replied "Though your slice of the real world is confined to this one ship; in reality, we aren't alone. There are 300 ships, all in various parts of the world, fighting this one sided war. Though we are clearly losing, we still fight. Like the termites of old, we rise to defend ourselves. Unlike the termites, our numbers are few."

With that, Morpheus set his spoon down, and took the bowl to the makeshift sink, before walking out of the mess.

Neo got up for a moment, and looked in the sink. The bowl had been emptied.

He sighed, before going back to his food.

He tried to eat in peace, when he felt someone touch his shoulder.

Turning his head, he saw Trinity.

"You okay Neo?" she asked.

"Just wondering what the point of everything is." He sighed.

"Morpheus give you the 'De Parvo Homine' talk?" she asked.

Neo nodded.

"Try not to let it bother you." She replied "Think of a reason on why you fight, and remember that. It's what I do."

With that, she leaned in, kissed his cheek, got up, and left.

He watched her walk out of the room with her cat-like grace, and thought for a moment.

He realized now what he was fighting for. He figured to just think about her, and he'll be able to get up, and keep going.

Turning back to his food, he figured that Trinity was all he'd need. It was the one thing that made his insignificance not so significant.

AN: As it turns out, here's a little more explanation on the St. Malachy Challenge. Basically, St. Malachy was a man who had several papal prophecies all in the forms of mottoes. There was one for each of the popes, and they were all in Latin. The idea of the challenge is that Qoheleth would give an author a motto, and the idea is to write a story around it, with interpretation.

Hopefully that explains it further.