NOTICE: I do not own the following characters: Agent Smith, Agents Jones and Brown, Neo, or the location Zion. HOWEVER: I do own the characters Persis, Calyx, Priest, Aei, Seefa, Sol, Titus, Neso, Echo, Syenes, Syllis and the ships Antigone and Apollo.

.HYBRID.

1. The Last Agent Fight.

Persis got the feeling she was being watched.

She scanned the city skyline, the rooftops, the office blocks, the phone towers. Nothing.

Persis sighed. The sky had turned a lyrical blue around the steel grey clouds on the horizon. It was beautiful. It wasn't real. The Matrix was designed that way, you couldn't let yourself start believing in it again. But it was times like this that she could understand what the first Matrix must have been like, a perfect world, with harmony. And peace. Peace would be great. She knew that any moment now, the alarm would sound and sentinels would be fast approaching her ship, the Antigone. She was half expecting it anyway. Sentinels had been plentiful during the last few weeks. As captain, the least she could do was return to the ship and keep Calyx company. Being an operator must be the hardest thing, she mused, the hardest thing after being me.

Persis waited. Silence, and gradually the gentle hum of traffic. The alarm she had expected didn't sound. She raised her eyebrows fleetingly; well, that made a change.

A crow darted past her, screeching.

Persis involuntarily jumped, and though the movement was minute she cursed herself for being nervous. She looked at the bird, perched arrogantly on the lighted HOTEL sign. To big to be a crow. A raven, she thought. Just like in the stories. The bird croaked harshly. Persis briefly smiled. Then her face took on a look of recognition. Past the neon sign stood a figure, motionless. It stood on the far corner of the building next to the one she was on top of.

An agent.

Persis' mind raced. If she ran-no, the agent was too close and would probably catch up with her. If she called Calyx it would certainly come for her. She stood, statue like. A cool breeze fanned her warm face. The agent just stood. Persis waited. Still nothing. Suddenly the electronic ring of her phone.

Ring. Ring. Persis could've sworn the agent smiled.

She picked it up.

"Sir, get outta there".

Inwardly she smiled. Calyx had always called her "Sir", since he'd joined her ship. He wasn't being funny, he just voiced his respect that way.

"Sir".

"I know, Calyx".

"There's an exit ready for you. Its off the four-way on Sunset and Patricola. It's a phone booth....Sir-"

"Yes".

"You'd better start running".

Persis slid the phone back into the pocket of her leather trenchcoat. Unlike most of the unplugged women, her residual self image had taken to the trenchcoat wearing habits of the men. The tail ends of the coat flapped behind her with a liquid grace. Cream leather. Likewise the suede kimono like top and the leather trousers. Gold tinged shades shaped like visors. Persis pulled out her gun and shot repeatedly, running sideways towards the edge of the building. The agent mirrored her actions. Persis dived off the side of the building.

As if frozen in bullet time she fell, arms curved behind her, swanlike.

Persis threw her legs forwards, flipping her 360ยบ. Twisting her sinuous body at the last moment she faced sideways at the agent falling 20 ft to her left. She fired repeatedly, then turned on her back, spinning at a dizzying speed, back flipping with incredible ease in mid-air as she plummeted down. Anything to avoid the dead aim of an agent's gun. She could visualise the bullet now, hurtling on its path to her heart. Persis shook her head defiantly.

"No".

Emptying her clip at terrifying speed, she took out her second gun from the holster by her left hip. Her trenchcoat spread out under her, giving her the image of having large, shining wings. Persis flipped into her stomach, the street rushing up to meet her. She executed a myriad of flips and turns. Then, as if in slow motion-

Persis cartwheeled forwards in the air. Her feet swept under her and unbelievably, it seemed for a moment that she fell upwards. Then, her legs travelled full circle and she landed, crouched, with one knee on the tarmac and her gun ready. The agent noticed and fired. His clip was empty. He landed with a sickening, and yet neutral thud on the ground, as if someone had dropped a large inanimate object from a great height. Persis slowly rose and pulled the trigger at the agent's twisted form. She turned her

head from the lightning like pulses of green light that crackled over him. The tarmac surface around her feet had fragmented into large shards on her impact. She didn't stop to see who the agent had used as a body. She ran.

Persis ran tirelessly for a countless number of blocks. They passed like a blur of images, a stream of opaque buildings, as if seen through a mesh curtain or a mist. She whipped out her phone.

"Operator."

"Goddamn, sir that was close".

"I know-where's the exit?"

"On your left, down that street-there-the blue phone box".

"I see it".

Persis replaced the phone to her pocket. Yes, the glass and plastic phone booths that dominated the city streets. So many exits. So little time. She sprinted even faster towards the exit. So close-

The agent cooly stepped out from behind a column. With no time to think, Persis leapt into the air and attacked him in full motion, her legs kicking out at his face and upper body with deadly accuracy. He took a swipe at her as she descended. Back flipping, Persis avoided his punch. She knew what being punched by an agent felt like. It was like running into a wall at full tilt. Thank God she still had legs. She could still run. The agent advanced slowly but deadly. Persis ran at him, stabbing her booted feet into his chest as she ran up him, finishing at his shoulders. The agent grabbed at her ankles but she was too good. She'd done this long enough. Placing her right foot on his right shoulder and her left on his other shoulder, Persis shifted her grip to his neck and spun.

In slow motion they rotated, Persis' arms tightly at her side to induce maximum velocity on her spin.

The agent's head twisted and his neck cracked with a mechanical grinding sound. Persis did a perfect break fall and, rising, turned her head back over her shoulder to watch the agent land on the ground. With a certain degree of humour she noticed his tie was crooked. Then the phone in the booth rang. Persis sighed, partly from relief, partly from the effort disposing of the agent had taken her. She stepped forward.

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