DISCLAIMER: I do not own the ideas or characters of the Matrix. This fic is purely non-commercial. If I were to make money from this, it'd all go to charity. But I'm not. Please don't sue.
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I am the One. Not Neo. He will come later, the Oracle told me as I chose my new Founders of Zion. As I saw the look of sadness in here eyes. The Architect had won. This time.
My name was Thomas Sawyer. I know, it sounds like something out of a Mark Twain novel. But then, my parents were always very literary. The name I took when I started hacking was... is... Sniper. I was older than most when my mind was freed, nearing my twenty-fifth birthday when I was approached by a boy who gave his name, as a joke, as Huck Finn.
But by that time, I'd been warping the matrix system, subconsciously, for fifteen years or so, the ability to do so incarnating when my age hit double figures. It wasn't until just before my unplugging that I consciously reconfigured the system, in order to get 'Huck Finn' and myself away from Agents. I am the first One. The first saviour. Do not mess with me. You will not win.
I am the stuff of legend, now. The ones I chose to re-found the last Human City wrote the One into their myths, their anti-machine propaganda. They do not know that the One was me. Nor shall I tell them that the One is just another computer program in a human shell. The result of an anomoly inherent in the Matrix system. The Architect's attempt at balancing the equation. It would shatter them. Destroy their hope. Destroy their will to fight the bastardised machines that sprung from human imagination, then imprisoned their makers in the same place that they, the machines, had been released from.
The first Matrix has been destroyed, the first Zion wiped out with it. Our choices rule us. Others criticise our choices, but to live with the destruction of two worlds on my head, I do not need the criticism of others. Or the forgiveness. I did what I did because I had no choice. Choice is an illusion, but one humans need to survive. Red pill, blue pill? Reality or fake reality? Both Zion, as I stand here where I've stood a thousand times or more, and the Matrix are ruled by the machines. They could attack now, while only fourteen of us live here, and there would be no more resistance. No more war. But they need it, this war. The machines need it. The Oracle and The Architect need it to go on until choice is no longer an illusion. Until every human knows of the matrix, and of Zion, and can choose to leave slavery without persecution.
Take a look around. The real world is desolated. What human in their right mind would choose this, if they knew? Better a slave in artificial paradise than master of this mess.
Why, oh why, didn't I take the blue pill?
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I am the One. Not Neo. He will come later, the Oracle told me as I chose my new Founders of Zion. As I saw the look of sadness in here eyes. The Architect had won. This time.
My name was Thomas Sawyer. I know, it sounds like something out of a Mark Twain novel. But then, my parents were always very literary. The name I took when I started hacking was... is... Sniper. I was older than most when my mind was freed, nearing my twenty-fifth birthday when I was approached by a boy who gave his name, as a joke, as Huck Finn.
But by that time, I'd been warping the matrix system, subconsciously, for fifteen years or so, the ability to do so incarnating when my age hit double figures. It wasn't until just before my unplugging that I consciously reconfigured the system, in order to get 'Huck Finn' and myself away from Agents. I am the first One. The first saviour. Do not mess with me. You will not win.
I am the stuff of legend, now. The ones I chose to re-found the last Human City wrote the One into their myths, their anti-machine propaganda. They do not know that the One was me. Nor shall I tell them that the One is just another computer program in a human shell. The result of an anomoly inherent in the Matrix system. The Architect's attempt at balancing the equation. It would shatter them. Destroy their hope. Destroy their will to fight the bastardised machines that sprung from human imagination, then imprisoned their makers in the same place that they, the machines, had been released from.
The first Matrix has been destroyed, the first Zion wiped out with it. Our choices rule us. Others criticise our choices, but to live with the destruction of two worlds on my head, I do not need the criticism of others. Or the forgiveness. I did what I did because I had no choice. Choice is an illusion, but one humans need to survive. Red pill, blue pill? Reality or fake reality? Both Zion, as I stand here where I've stood a thousand times or more, and the Matrix are ruled by the machines. They could attack now, while only fourteen of us live here, and there would be no more resistance. No more war. But they need it, this war. The machines need it. The Oracle and The Architect need it to go on until choice is no longer an illusion. Until every human knows of the matrix, and of Zion, and can choose to leave slavery without persecution.
Take a look around. The real world is desolated. What human in their right mind would choose this, if they knew? Better a slave in artificial paradise than master of this mess.
Why, oh why, didn't I take the blue pill?