Disclaimer: I don't own the "Matrix Trilogy." Everything belongs to whoever owns them, my wishful thinking aside.

Authors Note #1: I rewatched the series recently and got in the mood for a little tidying of the loose ends after the credits rolled on the last movie.

Disclaimer: grief, drama, ptsd, survivor's guilt, canon typical violence.

Herald

It had been nearly a year since the peace with the machines. A year since the end. Since the beginning. A year since Neo and Trinity had gone to the machine mainframe and met their end there.

Sacrificing themselves for Zion.

For the past.

For the present.

But most of all, for the future.

For a future.

He'd never expected to survive his purpose.

For years, finding The One had been all he'd lived and breathed.

It had consumed him.

So hungry for hope.

For a light at the end of the tunnel that wasn't a machine- or worse.

And he'd found it in the prophesy.

In the One.

And now, he was here and Neo was not

What did that mean?

Niobe told him it didn't have to mean anything. That sometimes things just were for no reason other than they could be. Still, he knew she understood. Especially as the emptiness chipped away at him slowly and the memories he'd pushed down over the years grew deafening. A solider without a war was a dangerous, uncertain thing. And deep down, he was afraid he hadn't been born to enjoy the peace he'd sought for so long.

So, perhaps it was fitting that not long after that, the Oracle sent word.

Maybe he hadn't outlived his purpose after all.

He watched him from a distance at first, not long after he returned. Taking in the changes. Trying to understand the shift. Where the boy had become the man. Realizing that on some level he'd been too invested in Neo to allow himself to admit how special the kid actually was. If he'd never met Neo, he might have believed the kid was the one. Maybe.

The Oracle had merely smiled when he'd admitted as much. Smoking peaceably as the smoke wreathed thin around her head. The small kitchen the same as it'd always been. Complete with outdated linoleum and the lingering smell of freshly baked cookies.

"You wouldn't have been wrong," she'd hummed. Looking him up and down in that way she had that managed to be disapproving despite saying nothing. Offering him a candy he actually took without question. Letting the tart, lemon flavor twitch across his tongue. Remembering.

"Like most things, timing is everything. Morpheus, Neo was the One. There is no doubt about that. But- this kid? He is also the One," she told him calmly. Stubbing out her cigarette as the sun glanced across the window pane, turning the smoke into a crooked halo.

"I don't understand," he admitted. Trusting, but frozen. Suddenly feeling ancient as the breadth of everything he didn't know – everything he couldn't know – yawned like something hungry. Something seconds away from swallowing him up.

"He was so loud the day he left, every program in the Matrix felt the ripples. And every program trembled," she hummed. Slowing unwrapping a piece of candy before sighing and setting it to the side. "You have to understand. These days humanity has a taint of the machine to it. Even Neo had it. Everyone does. Especially those who were born in the Matrix. But this kid? Nothing. He was born in it. Created by it. And he figured it out- all of it. He left when he did because all he'd been waiting on was you- you and Neo. Nothing about the machines or the Matrix holds him. If Neo had fallen, or had never been born, I think this kid would have become him- in time. And he would have been stronger than you or I could imagine."

He exhaled truth, shaky with nicotine-laced oxygen. It was true. Deep down he might have even known it. No one had ever done what he'd done. Until he'd seen it happen with his own eyes, he'd believed it impossible. Through a sheer force of will and utter, blinding belief, the kid had ejected himself from the Matrix. There had been no words when they'd fished him out of the sewers – shivering, pale and unconscious. They'd just stared. Even Neo. Slack, uneasy and awed.

But there'd been so much at stake, he'd never really allowed himself a closer look.

Maybe he hadn't wanted to look.

Maybe he'd wanted to stay blind to that inconvenient truth.

Maybe the kid had been easy to ignore.

Maybe he didn't want to hear any of this.

"This was not part of the prophesy," he finally replied. Not a question, but a statement of fact. The slack of his coat noticeable in a way that made him question when the last time he'd been able to stomach more than a few bites of his meals had been.

"No," she agreed, shaking her head. "He doesn't know it, but he's writing his own and it's every bit as real as the others. You've seen it."

"On the dock in Zion."

She nodded.

"Love drove him. Love for Neo and for you. For everyone in Zion. The kids got heart. Potential. I can't see past the choices left to make, just the possibilities. But I know someone worth the effort of dragging myself out of retirement for. That's for damn sure."

He thought about Neo and the first time he'd laid eyes on him. Both in the Matrix and in the real world. It had been like rain. Rain in an endless desert. A dangerous sort of a savior. He hadn't feared Neo, but he had feared what would change and what they all might be forced to do to keep him safe. But it all paled in comparison to what he felt now. He with his tempest heart. Because when he considered the kid, the feeling was akin to staring into the heart of a mountain. Silent, strong and slow to change- but eventually, in due time, more powerful than he could bring himself to imagine.

"You see it, don't you?" she'd murmured, leaning in close as the moment changed. Tingling with an electric charge that tickled at the spaces between his fingers. Making him clench his fists at his sides. "There is a purpose to everything- everyone. But with him? Well…the universe might as well be holding it's breath."

"What do you want me to do?" he asked. Suddenly feeling like he had all those years ago. When she'd first called for him and set him on the path he walked now. As unsteady and crumbling at it was.

The Oracle had just quirked her lip. Like she knew. Ageless and wounded. Alive, but tired.

"Train him. Raise him. Love him, if you can," she'd told him simply, as she opened her pack of cigarettes and pulled out another stick. "Just remember, Neo's doubts held him back. Think how powerful ...or how dangerous one could be if they had the power of the One and none of the doubts. Bring him to me when you think he is ready. By then, some choices will have been made and I will be able to see."

He'd rarely left the Oracle with a clear head.

And as always, she hadn't disappointed.

He leaned against the railing as the kid worked in the heart of a repair detail. Glowing sparks that danced around his boots, highlighting a healthy sheen of sweat. His hair had grown out since he'd seen him last. Framing his face with complimentary angles as he welded a section of one of the dock doors. Still repairing the damage from the machines.

But it was how he carried himself, how he interacted with the people around him, that had changed the most. No longer did he jump out of the way, yielding to others. Nor was he so painfully eager to please. He'd taken Neo's death hard, but seemed to use his memory as a strength, not a weakness. Providing an example for the others as Zion slowly rebuilt. Just as it had so many times before.

He had come into his own in the most honest way a person could.

He respected that, perhaps above everything else.

He straightened when the kid paused, letting the point of the welder drift safely to the right as he lifted the mask and looked up at him. Smile small, and more than a little lopsided as he lifted his hand in greeting. All it took was him tilting his head for the kid to set down his tools and come to him. Open. Curious. And hungry to know.

It would seem he was to be a teacher once more.

Neo would have been amused by that.

Of that much, he was certain.

A/N: Thank you for reading, please let me know what you think.

Reference:

- Herald: an official messenger bringing news. A person or thing viewed as a sign that something is about to happen.