Nothing left to do but die.
By Richard the Pedantic.
By the way, in case anyone has seen something eerily similar to this on 'The Vision', myself and 'Salient' are one and the same.
Also, I don't own the Matrix, it owns me.
The following extract is the final entry in the diary of an infantry soldier by the name of 'Spin'.
Age: 24
Sex: Male
Status: Missing, presumed dead
Date: 21st February, 2200
We just heard from Commander Locke that the fleet was destroyed a little over two hours ago. I can't really say I'm surprised. I mean, 20 odd ships against 250,000 sentinels? Even with EMPs it would be a miracle if they were able to take out a quarter of that number.
We're not entirely sure what went wrong out there, the theory going around though is pretty much the same as mine; that there were just too many sentinels for our crews to handle. Well, either that or maybe someone blew off an EMP, maybe thinking that they'd take all the sentinels out, maybe not thinking at all. If that's what happened though, it wouldn't be hard for the sentinels to waltz in and destroy the disabled ships. Whatever happened, they failed, and now those 250,000 sentinels are on their way here.
Seeing them leave was hard, seeing all those people whoo I knew were charging boldly to their own deaths. Seeing my father leave was worse. He kept telling me that he'd be alright, that he'd see me soon, that Zion would be saved, and that, (and I quote), 'I didn't have anything approaching the intelligence to understand Locke's plan so I should just stubbornly believe that it would work and leave it at that.'
I can't believe he's really…
No, I don't have time to mourn, there's too much going on. There's not really much point either. I'll be going to meet him in just under a day anyway.
We're all going to die soon. There's no point in pretending otherwise. People keep telling each other that there's still hope; that all we need to do is take out the diggers and all will be well, that the sentinels won't be able to get into the city. That's a pretty short sighted view though. Even if we do keep them from getting into the city, we'll still loose the dock, and they can just make a shiny new digger and start all over again.
Other people are saying that Neo will save us all somehow. That he'll reach the source and that will stop the machines. People have been repeating that to themselves incessantly, and they don't even know what the source is. Even if Neo can somehow save us, I don't see him doing it in time to save everyone here.
I should probably be more afraid then I am. I guess this is the calm that accompanies the certainty of death, and with 250,000 sentinels closing in on us, death is looking pretty fucking certain.
No, what I do feel is a crippling depression, not surprising really..
I don't know why I'm recording this. No one's ever going to see it. In just over a day the only humans left on this planet will be living in pods, and we'll all be a giant heap of corpses on the floor. It's funny; over a century of war, and it's about to end in one fell swoop. Naive though it may sound, I'd always expected to be on the distributing end of that swoop, not the receiving end.
I wonder what took them so long. I mean, the machines have been attacking Zion for decades, but always in too small a number. The perimeter defences always saw them off with almost contemptuous ease. Why the machines didn't think to come through the roof in too great a number one hundred years ago is a mystery. I guess that doesn't matter though.
In spite of the blindingly obvious facts, the whole thing still seems unreal. I keep expecting to wake up and find that this was all some hideous, unusually realistic, 2 day long nightmare.
We've been told to get some sleep. If Locke honestly believes that anyone will be able to sleep on a day like today then he must be drunk off his arse. It's like trying to get to sleep right next to a volcano that's mere seconds away from spewing lava over everything within a three mile radius.
I could walk I guess, take one last tour of a city that's about to be torn down around me, or more likely, with my decapitated body lying in the dock with sentinels whizzing about in every direction. I don't want to see what I'd never see again. The whole thing's painful enough as it is.
If nothing else, at least I'll be able to take a few sentinels with me to the grave. And that's exactly what I'm going to do. These fucking bastards are going to pay for killing my father, and they're going to pay for every man and woman who died today because of them, and every man and woman who has died in this war. I'm going to die, we all are. But we're not going to go quietly.
I think that's everything I want to say.
End of extract.
If you have any information as to the whereabouts and/or status of this person, please inform either his father, Captain Roland of the Hammer, or Commander Locke.
