The Alternate Ending: Matrix V: 7
"And then... and then I say... Everything that has a beginning... has an end." Agent Smith smiled, rain coursing down his stony face; then, Neo moved.
He rose, slowly, steadily. He could feel his strength growing as he did so, and a look of uncertainty, and terror spread across Agent Smith's face, creasing new lines that had never before allowed themselves to form.
"No- no. Get back!" But Neo would not stop advancing, growing stronger, he could tell that it would end. And it would end for him only.
Rows and rows of Agent Smiths watched.
A smile flickering in his eyes behind their dark glasses, he advanced again, towards the sputtering program that had once been the Oracle.
"No. It can't end like this; I have seen it!"
"But you cannot see past a choice you do not understand." Neo replied grimly. He took a step back, and made the familiar gesture; on guard, with a small twitch of his hand.
The agent's programming recognized this and instantly fell back into fighting. Matching blow for blow, each took a beating. The only difference was that, as Smith's strength seemed to fail, Neo's grew ever greater.
Bearing down on his foe, the One delivered punch after kick, following smoothly as the fight drew each, once more, into the sky.
The force of their blows every time would send the other reeling, but the same, ever time, Neo would come back a little quicker and Smith a little slower.
Rows and rows of Agent Smiths waited.
But the Agent seemed to be failing. As his adversary bore down upon him, the coding of the Smith Virus began to break down. Instead of hurling insults, when the ragged mouth opened, out poured streams of coding and a sound that could only be classed as ear-splitting gibberish.
Finally, the one Agent Smith fell back into the masses, into the thousands of perfectly spaced, perfectly identical bodies that formed a perfectly symmetrical circle around the entire arena.
Rows and rows of Agent Smiths attacked.
Born up by the strength of his comrades; his clones, the Agent Smith rose again, leading all of the identical faces of stoic flesh and bone, which was really only figures in space.
Thousands of black suits, black glasses, white shirts, perfectly polished shoes, all rose from the ground as one. Every Smith, waiting to join the perfectly coordinated attack on the One. Level after level in the tall buildings rose with the masses on the streets; pounding through the floors of buildings, through the roofs of houses, they encircled the One, and began to close in.
Rows and rows of Agent Smiths fell into formation.
Like fighter pilots; kamikazes, they began to throw themselves, one by one at the One, and each time, that one was thrown aside to be replaced by one of the innumerable others. Rising again after they were smitten to the ground, the endless cycle continued on, until even they began to slow. As did Neo.
His strength failing, he felt himself growing weary, growing faint. As the last of the Smiths fell, hit the pavement with a sickening thud, the world was gone. As was Neo.
Rows and rows of Agent Smiths vanished into the infinite Grey of an uncreated Matrix.
In the silence that followed, a boy awoke from his sleep. Looking around his dim room in the early morning light, soft and warm, he heard a bird chirp outside the bars on his New York bedroom window.
Shoving his curtains aside, though they were nearly transparent from sun rot, he looked out onto the world. Cool, with steam rising from the heating vents in the streets and only a few cars mumbling sleepily past his quiet street.
He stretched and yawned, and rolled out of bed, reaching for his watch, a t-shirt, and some jeans.
Neo Anderson was awake. On June 17th, year 1990. Matrix; version seven.
Disclaimer: The Matrix and all it's characters are not mine. Neither is the pretty text at the beginning... Well, the lines, at least. The rest of it is MINE!! MINE, I SAY!!
"And then... and then I say... Everything that has a beginning... has an end." Agent Smith smiled, rain coursing down his stony face; then, Neo moved.
He rose, slowly, steadily. He could feel his strength growing as he did so, and a look of uncertainty, and terror spread across Agent Smith's face, creasing new lines that had never before allowed themselves to form.
"No- no. Get back!" But Neo would not stop advancing, growing stronger, he could tell that it would end. And it would end for him only.
Rows and rows of Agent Smiths watched.
A smile flickering in his eyes behind their dark glasses, he advanced again, towards the sputtering program that had once been the Oracle.
"No. It can't end like this; I have seen it!"
"But you cannot see past a choice you do not understand." Neo replied grimly. He took a step back, and made the familiar gesture; on guard, with a small twitch of his hand.
The agent's programming recognized this and instantly fell back into fighting. Matching blow for blow, each took a beating. The only difference was that, as Smith's strength seemed to fail, Neo's grew ever greater.
Bearing down on his foe, the One delivered punch after kick, following smoothly as the fight drew each, once more, into the sky.
The force of their blows every time would send the other reeling, but the same, ever time, Neo would come back a little quicker and Smith a little slower.
Rows and rows of Agent Smiths waited.
But the Agent seemed to be failing. As his adversary bore down upon him, the coding of the Smith Virus began to break down. Instead of hurling insults, when the ragged mouth opened, out poured streams of coding and a sound that could only be classed as ear-splitting gibberish.
Finally, the one Agent Smith fell back into the masses, into the thousands of perfectly spaced, perfectly identical bodies that formed a perfectly symmetrical circle around the entire arena.
Rows and rows of Agent Smiths attacked.
Born up by the strength of his comrades; his clones, the Agent Smith rose again, leading all of the identical faces of stoic flesh and bone, which was really only figures in space.
Thousands of black suits, black glasses, white shirts, perfectly polished shoes, all rose from the ground as one. Every Smith, waiting to join the perfectly coordinated attack on the One. Level after level in the tall buildings rose with the masses on the streets; pounding through the floors of buildings, through the roofs of houses, they encircled the One, and began to close in.
Rows and rows of Agent Smiths fell into formation.
Like fighter pilots; kamikazes, they began to throw themselves, one by one at the One, and each time, that one was thrown aside to be replaced by one of the innumerable others. Rising again after they were smitten to the ground, the endless cycle continued on, until even they began to slow. As did Neo.
His strength failing, he felt himself growing weary, growing faint. As the last of the Smiths fell, hit the pavement with a sickening thud, the world was gone. As was Neo.
Rows and rows of Agent Smiths vanished into the infinite Grey of an uncreated Matrix.
In the silence that followed, a boy awoke from his sleep. Looking around his dim room in the early morning light, soft and warm, he heard a bird chirp outside the bars on his New York bedroom window.
Shoving his curtains aside, though they were nearly transparent from sun rot, he looked out onto the world. Cool, with steam rising from the heating vents in the streets and only a few cars mumbling sleepily past his quiet street.
He stretched and yawned, and rolled out of bed, reaching for his watch, a t-shirt, and some jeans.
Neo Anderson was awake. On June 17th, year 1990. Matrix; version seven.
Disclaimer: The Matrix and all it's characters are not mine. Neither is the pretty text at the beginning... Well, the lines, at least. The rest of it is MINE!! MINE, I SAY!!