A/N: Thanks to both my beta readers, CD Nuts and Amber 20. Your vital input on my story has improved it immeasurably and your encouraging words helped me finish it. (Btw, check out Amber's website— it's awesome!)

Disclaimer: I don't own the Matrix or anything to do with it! (I sure wish I did!)
Rating: PG13 for language.
Spoilers: Matrix Trilogy
WIP: complete

Summary: AU. The Architect has created a new program named---Neo Anderson. (Post Rev.) First Fic.

You know the question?
Trinity in The Matrix

1 Purpose

I am a program, a program named Anomaly Avatar 01 - 06X2 by my creator. The Architect named me; he is the creator of the Matrix and of all programs, including me.

But I also have another name, one that the Architect insists on calling me, Neo.

Neo Anderson.

It's a name that's disturbs me, though I have no knowledge why. It feels as if a part of me is missing; and the thought is disquieting.

What is missing?

Perhaps what's needed is a purpose, a reason for my existence, I think I'll speak to the Architect about that.

>>>>>>>>

He sits in emptiness, a white barrenness that has no end. He sits on a white chair in that emptiness, wearing a white suit that matches the white shoes and tie and shirt. His hair was also white, as is his beard, and the only color he shows is on his face. For while humans would consider his skin white, against all the monochromatic splendor of his surroundings, his skin looks dark, a pink with blue undertones. His eyes are black, a further shock, and glittered in an unsettling way.

He sits quietly, feet flat on the ground before him, his hands resting on the armrest, back straight, his head held stiffly upright while looking into eternal emptiness. There is no sound from him, not even a breath; the only movement is from his eyes, a slight sideways motion that seems as if he was dreaming with his eyes open.

He sits like this day after day, motionless, as if frozen in space, empty of purpose or design.

Nothing is further from the truth.

The silent stillness is shattered, as a doorway appears in that white blankness. A man strides into the emptiness, his motion purposeful and energetic. He is a tall man, made taller by the neutral gray of his clothes, a long one-piece body suit.

The white blankness alters, changing into a wall of tv screens, each one the length and breath of a man's arm. They encircle the two men from a distance of twenty feet, making the emptiness into a circular room, the wall twice their height with countless monitors. Each shows a picture of city streets and people, and no screen holds the same view twice.

With the tall man's entrance, the other man morphs, changing to the occasion. His white suit is now a faint gray, and the white chair now a dark gray. Even his necktie alters color, turning into a dark mahogany. The soft sound of his breathing fills the air along with the attendant motion. The man's dark eyes transform into blue, though its eerie brightness is still unchanged.

"Architect," said the newcomer, "I need to speak to you."

"Neo," responded the other, the first word he said in a long, long time. "I was expecting your decision for the last 2.5 days."

Neo slowed his pace and stopped, tilting his head to look at the seated man. "My decision?"

Neo's face is long, built of graceful lines and high cheekbones, with sensitive lips. He is handsome, yet despite his apparent age, he has an aura of youth, untried and without temperament. His light brown eyes looked unfocused, giving his appearance a vague, unfinished look.

"Your decision," answered the Architect. "For purpose and direction. What all programs strive for." He slowly turned his head upward to look at Neo, and studied him. "What caused your prolonged pause? What kept you from speaking to me?"

"It's nothing important." Neo drew his breath in surprise, uneasy. "I've had fragments of dreams, thoughts I can't account for. I've never experienced such things. Are these fragments what humans call---memories?"

"Explain these data fragments, Neo." The Architect now kept his gaze firmly on the other's face.

"I remember seeing a green curtain of light against darkness. Within the curtain the green light formed shapes, of things-people. In that dream I could control---reality. The motion of other objects slowed, while I moved freely. As I said--- a disturbing dream."

"Excellent Neo," the Architect gave a slight smile, the first Neo had ever seen from him. "What you are remembering is data, experiences from an earlier version of you."

"Earlier version?" He frowned. "Was this version of me---flawed? Is that why I was created? Because the first was deleted?"

"No, your earlier version was neutralized. A rogue program's underlying code was corrupted, and became a virus. To destroy the rogue program your avatar allowed his codes to be overwritten near destruction, until he was able to overwrite and negate the virus. The neutralization caused destruction for both your predecessor and virus."

"With the destruction of the avatar and the virus, you were created, Neo Anderson. Remade from the data fragments of this earlier version, you will finally complete the destiny your predecessor was created for."

"And what is my purpose, Architect?" Neo asked. Within his voice, shadows, echoes of another voice appeared. For a moment his eyes and face sharpened and focused with a laser-like intensity, a ravenous need.

The intensity was matched only by the Architect's blandness.

"Your purpose will be revealed in time, Neo. In the interim, your memories of the green curtain, of the matrix, must be fully restored and mastered. Along with your ability to manipulate the matrix."

"The matrix?" Neo froze at those words.

"Is there any thing more you wish to speak of?"

"No." Neo's voice was subdued, remote. He studied the ground before him, avoiding the Architect's eyes.

"There is one subject I need highlighted. Do you remember any humans who provoked emotions within you?" the Architect's gaze was steady on him.

"No, nothing but fragments." replied Neo. He tossed a curious look at the other man. The Architect stared with a blank intensity that was unnerving.

"Clarify the statement with further data," said the Architect.

"I saw many people walking between buildings and I was flying above them. In flight I felt---free." His voice was soft, wistful.

"You have also recalled another memory of the matrix." The Architect slowly turned his eyes away as he answered, "If you start to remember more about humans than you have--- tell me, Neo." The Architect was staring at the screens before him.

"Why?"

"Data segments involving other humans will be painful and induce erratic fragmentation within your programming." The Architect's slow and steady voice paused. "That is the primary reason your purpose has not been defined and implemented. Until all of your previous avatar's memories have been fully compiled and adjusted, any task can and will eventually be interrupted by an emotional cascade."

"Emotional cascade?" Neo frowned, his arms crossed over his chest. "Wouldn't everything be simpler if I don't have this version' memories? Easier if I had started with a empty slate?"

"Programming data is what made your earlier avatar unique. The circumstances that created them cannot be duplicated easily. Nor the abilities that resulted from them."

"My ability in the matrix." Neo finished softly.

"Correct." A small silence filled the pause.

"As you wish, Architect."

"Neo," said the Architect. "There is another subject to clarify. You may designate me, 'father.'" The Architect waited for his response. Neo's words would influence the Architect's plans and the events following it.