Note: I'm not going to reveal what "Nizkor" means yet, but as a clue: It's a Hebrew word! Also, this is continued from the Matrix reloaded by the way! Oh, and I quote one line from the film, but as I've only seen it once, I'm not sure if its accurate...you'll know which one it is if you've seen it...
Disclaimer: No, I really am one the WACHOWSKI Brothers…and this is the plot for the third film…NOT! Nope…I do not own ANY of the first two matrix films or the characters in them, but I do own my own characters and the ideas for my plot…even if they do end up being in the third film…then that just proves I'm a genius… *grin*
All is black. Then, like water dripping sideways across the screen, two alternate strings of green font type speedily across it:
What are you looking for?
A Question.
Not an Answer?
People who look for answers usually don't know the question. They just expect it to be some universally unknown question mark looming over us all.
And then?
That's the point…there is no 'then'. We're never meant to get that far…
Why?
Soon, very soon my future is going to stop. I don't see myself going into training. I don't see myself getting married, having kids or getting a regular job. I don't see myself growing old…
So what then? You'll die? Just because you lack imagination?
Perhaps. Death is something I don't understand. Maybe that is why I can't see my life progressing past the end of school.
Maybe you just don't understand life beyond what you know…
Exactly…
Why do you keep asking yourself such awkward questions?
Because no-one else will…
The screen remains still before wiping blank again in one swift flicker.
Thomas suddenly jerked back in his chair. He had fallen asleep at his desk again…the hard indentations of the keyboard made a little chess-board pattern across his pale cheek. He'd been doing that a lot recently…
Blinking hard and trying to clear his head, he glared hard at the screen before him. The black screen seared by lines of white coding informed him he had been halfway through programming a certain task sequence, but for the life of him, he couldn't remember what…or what for…but there was something more then that. Or at least, Thomas felt as if there should be more than that.
Swivelling in his chair, he glanced out of his office block's slim entrance into the one opposite him. Kev was puffing away at his keyboard as usual, the layers of his huge backside bulging over the sides of his poor, straining chair. Thomas watched Kev, but his mind was looking beyond the fat man in the desk block beside him. Something wasn't…right.
Trying to think beyond his office was like trudging through a thick white mist and it was irresistible to simply stand still and allow it to flow round you, closing in tighter and tighter.
"Message for Mr. Anderson?" came a young voice wringing with the squeakiness of the typical teenage mail-boy, cutting through Tom's thoughts. The spotty lad held out a large brown envelope.
Thomas Anderson blinked at the boy. It seemed strange to hear himself being addressed like that, but he still couldn't think why…this was the Office afterall. It was how his workmates (what few there were) knew him. It was how his boss addressed him.
Taking the envelope, Thomas nodded a vague thanks to the boy and teared its edge off. He pulled out its only contents: A piece of paper with an image that filled the whole of one side. He stared hard at it, holding it up close to his face. His face remained a picture of bafflement, but his mind raced as like an impulse on a motherboard.
What the…?
There was nothing on the back of the picture or envelope to say where it was from. He immediately stood up and looked over the walls of his small office-square to see where the message boy had gone, and as he did so, it was as if the distant noisy buzz of the Office had accelerated and slammed right into a wall of silence.
The whole room had become empty. Kev was no-longer in his block. There was no-way that fat 'oaf could've moved that fast! Thomas looked down at the picture again. It showed a picture of himself sitting at his desk holding a piece of paper up close to his face and staring hard at it…and that piece of paper had a picture of himself holding a piece of paper up close to his face and staring hard at it…
"Neo!"
The pain of confusion pulsed through his mind again.
"Neo…"
The hard and intense voice seemed to come from right beside him… and yet from right inside of him…but it was a woman's voice. But no-one else knew of that name? Or at least didn't connect it to him…
He listened hard into the matt, dead air of the Office, but all he heard was his heavy quick breaths. He waited, hardly moving, looking back down at the picture. The voice filled his mind again…
"See this hand? It's not letting go. It's never letting go."
The depth of its sound made him shiver slightly. His pulse raced at the sound of it. But he was still alone in the room... Turning the paper over, he studied it again but noticed a small mark in one corner. Peering closely at it, he saw it to be a small black symbol he had never seen before. It was of a vertical straight line that had two other straight lines branching off parallel to one another from the top of the vertical line and pointing diagonally down away from it.
As he studied it, the Office around him faded into a busy New York main street. Looking up in time to be bumped and knocked like a pinball by the ruthless herds of businessmen and civilians, he somehow didn't feel too alarmed to be suddenly transferred from his office to the street in the blink of an eye…but still frustrated confusion laid heavy on his face.
He knew this place…he knew that he shouldn't be alarmed…but why!! The paper was still in his hand, crumpling from the sweat of his grip.
"Neo!"
The voice came from ahead of him, through the surging streams of bodies that were stampeding in his direction. He tried to battle his way through the crowds. Suitcases scraped at him, elbows jostled at him, sweat dripped slowly down his temples. He had to reach that voice…
"Neo!"
Through the crowds of on-coming black suits and white shirts, he watched as a lady in a red dress walked by him…