Protector of Men Ch 38

A/N – see the thing above this? Chapter 38. This is the second installment of Protector of Men. It isn't totally necessary to read the first part, but I recommend it. You may get lost. If you want to read "Reprise", then click on my name and you'll find it.

Check it out, I don't own the matrix. But I do own Zandra, Shade, Cover, Alias, Trim, Kemp, and all my original characters. And I own Purgatory. Hahaha! Now wouldn't that be neat.

"I'm in," she spoke softly into the receiver. She hung up, and walked out of the basement she had arrived in. Going to go see the Oracle.

The days had passed so quickly – from Stephen's funeral, to the weeks of nothingness afterwards, to the waiting she endured while going to broadcast depth; she was a little amazed at where she was. Already she was back in the matrix, back to see the Oracle again, for whatever reason the woman had conjured. But this time Zandra would be prepared for whatever cryptic messages she would spew this time. She too had a battalion of obscure messages. It was only a matter of time before they would meet again.

To her everything seemed to have been going quickly. Her training, her improvement over time, even her unplugging had been rushed after the agents had zoned in on her. She was the second person to be traced by an agent. It was surprising to everyone in Zion.

Zandra did a lot of things that surprised Zion. It was a young Zion, only 33 years old, almost 34 now. She was one of the few that had never been a hacker. She had found evidence of the matrix by observation. Her physics project had attracted many eyes, and the crew of Purgatory was especially interested. But so too were the agents, and Zandra was lucky that she had gotten unplugged in time. She had also terminated the first agent – and second, and third, as well. Many would have praised her abilities.

But some would have also chided her inabilities. Zandra was far from perfect; even she knew it. Sometimes she was too hard on herself, but even then her depression was rooted in reality. Around her, the first person had been killed by an agent. It wasn't a crewmate of hers, but she felt that if she had been there, the girl might not have died. And if she had been better, Alias might not have been paralyzed.

Zandra felt a ripple of guilt every time she saw the woman. Alias had been shot because of her. Zandra was kidnapped and unable to help her dying comrade, lying on the ground in front of her. She had failed her replacement family. And when she came back, Alias was paralyzed.

But it wasn't the worst that had happened. Zion had also lost its second man to the agents, this time much closer to her. Stephen. He was her friend from the Matrix that came back to befriend her again in the real world. She still cried often over his death, it was still so fresh. He had died keeping her secret pure – he had died because he didn't tell the agents what it was that Zandra had found that told her the matrix wasn't real. And they killed him for it, in front of her. She was unable to do anything to save him, and he died in her arms. She might have loved him, if she was given the chance. But no, he had been taken from her.

It was the Oracle's fault.

Stephen's passing had done a lot to her. She was sullen, quieter and overcast. She rarely spoke, and never joked. Purgatory hoped that it would fade with time, but she showed no signs of brightening. Every room she entered became stiff and uncomfortable, only to have her retreat to her bunk again minutes later. The crew tried its best to ignore her weeping during the night.

But his death had done more than that. Many people had dismissed Zandra's abilities in the beginning, but now they were unavoidably supreme. Zandra had made Brown and Jones cower in fear, and had caused the upload of three new agents, Johnson, Jackson and Thompson. Many crews found themselves unable to operate under the newly treacherous conditions. Some attributed the new danger to Zandra, but not many. They had heard how she had killed the agents, how they had killed her best friend. It was a different situation now, but they all had to continue somehow. They must continue the battle.

Zandra dusted off her coat before walking out into the street. Even her appearance had changed – though not substantially. Instead of her regular pants and tank, she was wearing black slacks, a leather top, and a heavy woolen duster. She was much more robed than previously, more out of grieving than anything else. She looked darker, deadlier - and she was.

The street was empty, and Zandra was relieved. She would have been pressed for time if she had to race her way out of a crowd that could turn into any of the agents at any moment. Deaths were becoming more prevalent among the rebels because of the new agents; Zandra sighed heavily as she continued down the pathway to the door she was looking for. At least she'd get some answers (and perhaps some closure) soon.

"She's at the door," Kesia called out. Cover nodded in recognition from a few feet away. They had been watching sporadically, but now had lost interest knowing that Zandra would soon be off of the matrix's radar and into the Oracle's land.

Zandra knocked twice, as she had been told. But there was no answer. Zandra was immediately angry – this was quickly ending up as it had weeks before…

She twisted the door handle, and it opened. Gladly surprised, she walked through the door and found herself in a mostly empty room. Straight in front of her was the man that had ushered her in to the Oracle before, only now he was sitting serenely on the floor, sipping what looked to be tea. He looked strange to Zandra, and she got the feeling that something wasn't right… she was reminded of her project, ages ago, for some reason…

She looked around, expecting to see the Oracle somewhere. There was no one to be seen, and the man continued to sip at his tea. With each passing moment Zandra became more tense, something's strange…

"The Oracle is waiting," he told her, putting his tea down on the floor. Zandra was tense; something wasn't right.

"Where is she?" Zandra asked back. Her jaw clenched unconsciously.

"I can take you to her," he replied, "But things have changed."

Zandra tilted her head to one side, confused. Things have changed? "Who are you?"

"I am Seraph," he said, and bowed slightly, "But now I must apologize."

"Apologize for what?"

"For this."

And he flew at her, fists already flying. It took Zandra a moment to realize what he was doing - and in that moment, she was already hit and heading towards the door behind her. She recovered quickly; was able to get out of his way before he could knock her down again. She wasn't pinned, and freedom was what she needed. Where to go, Her mind asked, there wasn't much room in the place. There were four benches, two on either side of the room, and one small table at the end. She headed for a bench, intentionally knocking off its contents so that she could keep her balance better. Seraph was right behind her.

She turned around right as he was about to land a kick, and she wasn't completely prepared for it. In blocking the attack with a kick of her own, she ended up spiraling back to the ground, out of control. Anticipate! She told herself fiercely, you're better than this!

She immediately righted herself and took stock of what was around her. Still, the only things she could see were the thin benches in the room. It would have to do.

In a split second she jumped across the room and onto another bench with Seraph closely behind her. She was on one side; he was approaching the other. When she stepped up, she jumped as hard as she could and stomped back down on the bench. It was crude, but it did the trick. The man lost his balance and leapt to the ground, momentarily stopped, while she took her chance to flee and recoup for a second attack. He got up quickly, and was soon back in her range. There was no time; she'd have to hand fight now.

She tried to land a primary punch, but he blocked it so easily that Zandra was momentarily embarrassed. He then volleyed a group of quick ones on her so fast that she could barely keep up. He's too fast, she silently whimpered as he began to get the better of her, but she immediately crushed the thought as it came. She was more overwhelmed by the attack in itself – the formerly peaceful messenger was now flying at her like as if she were the enemy. Was she? Zandra was so consumed by thought that she didn't even see the kick coming; she hit the far wall with a bang and fell to the floor in a heap. No time, she told herself, you have to get up! She pulled herself to her feet and readied herself for another round, but the man was out of stance, holding up a hand, telling her to stop.

"Good," he told her calmly. "Again, I apologize."

"Why?" she asked curtly, stretching her back.

"Our situation has changed," he told her, "The Oracle has many enemies."

Zandra stared at him. Why would that necessitate an attack?

"I had to be sure," he continued, speaking as if he had said the words many times before. They had become rote for him.

"Sure of what?" For all she knew, Seraph was only getting at her because of her anger towards the Oracle. Perhaps this was a warning of what was to come… surely Stephen hadn't gone through this, had he? Zandra couldn't be sure of much of anything at the moment.

"Sure that you are the One."

Zandra was silent at the response. She let him lead her to the door she had originally come through; she remained quiet as he pulled out a ring from his sleeve that was full of keys of different sizes and texture.

He unlocked the door and opened it. Behind it was something she had certainly never seen before.