The building, dark and ominous, stood silent in the black of night. Plywood concealed the shattered glass of the windows, and chains sealed the doors. But, in the dead of night, the click of a keyboard broke the peaceful silence.

A man, clothed in black leather, sat at a laptop, typing furiously at the keys. His cold, ice blue eyes scanned the traffic of green symbols that ran down the screen like rain on a window.

Sweat beaded on his temples as the speed of his typing increased; he was running out of time. He struggled to keep his concentration from faltering as the encrypted code became increasingly harder to break.

One stream of code suddenly paused, then continued on its steady trek down the black monitor. The man stopped his typing and narrowed his eyes at the disturbance.

There was a ringing; the steady ring of a cell phone.

The man reached into the inner pocket of his leather jacket and retrieved a small portable phone without taking his eyes from the screen. He flipped the cell open and held it to his ear.

"There are Agents, Apoc," said a calm, masculine voice from the other end.

Apoc swore and stood from the laptop, his chair clattering to the ground. "How many?" he asked, his hand falling to the pistol at his side. The familiar feel of the cold metal brought comfort to the experienced freedom fighter.

"Three," came the steady reply.

"I need an exit, Morpheus, and I need one fast!"

"I have Tank on it," Morpheus answered calmly.

There came the sound of steady, measured footsteps from down the hall. Apoc shut down the laptop, disconnecting it from the Matrix data stream. In the same instant, the small pistol came to his hand, cocked and ready.

The approaching footsteps grew louder as Apoc backed himself against the wall, phone to his ear and gun to the door.

"We have an exit for you. Out the window, forty-third and Main," Morpheus said.

Apoc nodded and returned the phone to the pocket of his jacket, glancing around nervously for an exit. He found it in the form of a window, blocked by plywood like all the others in the building.

Keeping his eye on the door, Apoc sent his fist through the compressed wood, shattering it like paper. As he put his foot through the broken window, the door to the apartment burst open.

Apoc didn't need to look to see who stood in the doorway; he could already feel the presence of the deadly programs known as Agents. He leapt out of the window, landing heavily on the metal grating of a fire escape and rolling to a standing position. The heads of three Agents appeared in the window, and they quickly spotted Apoc below them.

Apoc fired off a few shots in the direction of the window, forcing the Agents to duck inside. The bullets embedded themselves harmlessly in the windowsill, and Apoc started down the ladder at top speed.

One of the Agents jumped out the window, shaking the fire escape as he landed. Apoc struggled to hold on as the ladder jostled and bullets ricocheted off the metal grating above him.

Apoc loosened his hold on the slick ladder and allowed himself to slide the rest of the way, landing on his backside at the bottom. He was up in an instant, taking off down the alley. His heart rate increased as he raced down the street, a pistol gripped in one sweaty palm.

Shots rang out behind him as the Agents reached the bottom of the fire escape. He ducked into another alleyway as a bullet whizzed past his head, almost strafing his ear.

Among his own heartbeat and labored breathing, he heard the ring of a phone. Apoc reached into his jacket and brought out the portable phone, thankful to be hearing from Morpheus.

"You're almost there. Forty-third and Main, the phone is in apartment 23."

"Right," Apoc acknowledged, returning the cell to his pocket. He heard the rapid footsteps of the Agents as he rounded yet another corner, and spotted the sign for forty-third and Main.

He reached the apartment building, an old, abandoned place, and kicked in the rotting wood door. The interior of the building was no better than the outside, with stripped walls and unfurnished rooms. Cobwebs hung from the ceiling, and the dust was thick on the floor.

Apoc raced up the stairs, his heart beating in his ears. Behind him, he heard the Agents enter. He risked a glance behind him and winced as a bullet slammed into the wall inches behind him, sending chunks of drywall into the air.

He reached the top of the stairs, his strength ebbing from the chase. He ran down the hall, his eyes flitting from door to door. Most of the numbers were faded, but readable.

19.20.21.22.

Apoc sighed in relief as his eyes fell upon the number 23. He burst through the door, hardly waiting for it to open all the way. Bullets tore the doorframe apart as his disappeared into the room.

The ringing of a phone echoed through the abandoned apartment building, and there it was. It sat solitary on a table, the only piece of furniture in the whole apartment.

Apoc picked it off the cradle and held it to his ear. He felt his strength, his soul leaving him. He felt the silver lines running up his arms and consuming him. He felt his body dissolve into nothing. And then, he was a part of the code. He was nothing but a stream of symbols and numbers among the millions of others. Then, he was opening his eyes to see Morpheus standing over him.

He was back in the real world, sitting in a chair linked to the Matrix. He exhaled and sat up, holding a hand to his heart as it beat furiously. Sweat still poured down his face.

"Did you find him?" Morpheus asked, handing the exhausted freedom fighter a glass of water.

Apoc drank deeply and nodded. "I found him, Morpheus. His name is Neo."