Note: Confused? Don't worry. If it was simple then it wouldn't be interesting. Thanks for reviewing guys, it means a lot to me that people care enough to leave a comment or criticism. Ivy: We shall have to wait and see what happens...but I translated Nizkor slightly differently. I have to say, I am not a hebrew speaker myself, but I found this word and its meaning on another site and it gave me the idea for a plot...
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:
Are you there?
Not entirely…but why ask what you already know?
I don't always know everything that's going on. That's not my purpose.
Don't get me started on that. Having a purpose is like having a religion…and I reckon religion has caused more problems than anything else in the…erm, past.
No, purpose is like faith. It gives us faith, and faith gives us purpose.
But what happens when we lose one or the other?
We become obsolete.
Humans are not programmes! They can't just be deleted for losing the way…
Perhaps.
Have to go. Someone's coming.
The screen remains still before wiping blank again in one swift flicker.
The soft irregular hums and secret mechanical whirrings of the ships engines seemed almost soothing when accompanied by Neo's soft breathing. Trinity placed a hand on his chest. She watched it as it rose and fell with the expansion of his ribs and their retraction. She had hoped to feel his usual intense warmth pulsing in time with the thud of his heart…but he had remained quite cold these past few hours. He had not so much as flinched since the incident, since he was brought in and laid out here. She could barely feel his dull and tired pulse beneath her fingers.
"Neo."
Her voice sounded dead and numb in the still, stagnant air of the medical lab. She wanted it to echo out to its far walls…she wanted the thousands of Sentinels outside to hear her…she wanted the world to hear her voice…she wanted him to hear her…where ever he was in his mind.
"Neo…"
But it simply sounded like a pathetic plea. She would never allow any of the crew to see her like this, but part of her was scared… she had never truly feared for Neo's life before now, because there was some part of her that knew he was The One. He had Morpheus' undying belief as his weapon and a prophecy as his proof. She somehow knew inside of her that he couldn't die until he had succeeded. Succeeded in his purpose. But now he had no purpose. He had told them himself he was not meant to succeed in anything. It was as if he had entered the real world for the first time and now he truly could die at any point, just like the rest of them.
Her other hand fumbled for his hand. It was even colder than it had been an hour ago. It hung limp in her grip.
"See this hand? It's not letting go. It's never letting go." She said in a breathless whisper, her voice threatening to choke. But she would not cry. Tears had threatened to surface earlier, but she would not yield.
Right then, luck did not allow her to blink because if she did blink, she would have missed it; Neo's eyes flickered for a second. It was a flicker similar to when someone is dreaming in their sleep, and you can see the pupil beneath their eyelids moving rapidly. But it was only for a second.
"Neo…Neo!" she whispered desperately, gripping his hand so hard it began to turn purple. She wondered what struggle, what trial he was having to push his way through in his mind.
"Dreams."
Trinity whipped her head round. It had been a 'matter of fact' voice, and Trinity had sensed a slight hint of a condescending tone in it. It also belonged to Neo's fellow patient sharing the lab…the only remaining human found in the battlefield outside of Zion when the whole fleet of ships had been destroyed.
"I thought you were still unconcious." She said blankly. She seemed almost offended that he may have been watching and listening to her.
"Well I'm obviously not." He replied with slow sarcasm. Grimacing in pain, he sat up and swung his legs over the side of the flat surface he had been laid on. Leaning back on his hands, he smirked at her before looking down at Neo. "Dreams." He repeated simply. "There's no telling what kind of things happen when you're trapped inside your own mind".
Laying Neo's hand back down, Trinity's face hardened. "You shouldn't be moving around yet. And after all, after the ordeal you've been through, I'm surprised you're even alive when hundreds were slaughtered around you." She said bluntly, keeping her face hard and her eyes enigmatic. She had found his whole discovery a strange and suspicious incident despite her crew's amazed awe of him, yet she didn't want him to know of this right away.
"And I'm sure you'll have plenty to tell us when you have recovered a little more, Bane…" came Morpheus' deep curious voice as he entered the room. Trinity continued to stare fixedly at the stranger, studying his features. Watching for any flickers in his face that may betray his secret.
"Please do not rely too heavily on me, I - hit my head quite hard at one point. I do not remember much at all, if anything."
"Of course." Trinity couldn't help but add bluntly, raising an eyebrow sceptically at him.
"We understand. You must rest now. Then maybe your memory will return to you." Morpheus added calmly. He did not wish to be as blatant as Trinity with his emotions to this stranger, who nodded and returned back to lying on his back and closed his eyes. Morpheus stepped forward to stand behind Trinity and laid his hand on her shoulder. "And how's he doing?" he asked. Trinity finally removed her glare from the mystery man and over to Neo.
"Not good, he's cold and his pulse rate is low. Although…" she paused thoughtfully, thinking it may sound stupid to tell him what she saw, "I think we haven't lost him quite yet. He's still in there somewhere…"
Looking back up at her tall captain, her eyes asked many questions, but Morpheus' eyeline directed her own over to the seemingly 'sleeping' stranger. Understanding his hint, they both began to leave the room. Before leaving, Trinity turned her head back once more to Neo.
"He'll be fine. We shall be checking on him regularly. He's coming back to us Trinity. You know that." He reassured her so strongly she had no choice but to accompany him along the corridors of the ship. "You should rest too." He added.
Trinity sighed sharply. "I couldn't sleep even if I tried. What are we to do now? We can't get to Zion, we can't stay here and everything we've worked for…believed in…is gone." Her voice began to rise intensely, "I don't believe anyone has had as much faith in you as I have ever had Morpheus; faith in you and Neo, even in our darkest hours. But now…I don't think belief matters anymore. Belief is meant to be that magic thing that if you have it, then you don't have to worry because part of you knows it's going to be ok. Everything will turnout ok…until you realise that being human means 'ok' is about as real as the matrix". She looked up into his large black eyes. "What does it mean Morpheus? You said this would all end…and now the only thing Zion had left is gone….its hope, its faith."
Morpheus let her talk. He could feel her anger flowing in his veins too. He too shared many of her passionate sentiments, but he processed them a lot faster and clearer than she did. "I don't know what it means Trinity, but I do know this is happening for a reason. It would seem Neo learnt a lot more than he's willing to tell us when he entered that building…and perhaps it effected him…for better or for worse, I cannot say. We can only wait. And I'm asking you now Trinity, you can choose to believe in one thing, or you can choose to believe in another…but being human also means you have to believe in something…what is it you would rather believe in?", his eyes lingered on her as they reached the central operation room of the ship.
*****
Standing up, Bane enclosed his hand around a small surgical blade from a nearby table. Walking over to where Neo lay, he gripped it so tightly his hand began to tremble. With wide eyes that shone with an insane satisfaction, he raised the blade to Neo's neck. He pressed its tip lightly against one side of it, pressing the skin down without cutting it. Bane's mind raced as fast as his quick erratic breathing. Well, it wasn't strictly Bane's mind that was racing… It's true inhabitant had found the human body an interesting place to occupy. More than interesting…it was illogical and irregular. He had trouble complying with its repulsiveness at first, but soon began to use it to his advantage.
Twisting the blade slightly and preparing to swipe it swiftly across while inserting it deeper, he stopped. His smile faded. He pulled away his hand. His eyes stared beyond the body in front of him, beyond Mr. Anderson. They glistened slightly. Another smile slowly graced upon his lips.
"No. This is too easy." He whispered hoarsely, "Too easy for you."
Returning to his lie back on his table-top, he slipped the blade into a pocket on the inside of his jacket. If he had learnt anything from humans during his many cycles of years of dealing with them, it was that there are worse things than immediate death…
*****
He whipped his head back round to see the lady in the red dress once more - and a gun cocked in his face. Everything around him froze. People in mid-walk, pigeons in mid-flight and into the noise erupted a sudden silence. Thomas was looking right down the barrel of a black handgun. Over it, he saw the figure of a man about his own height wearing a long straight black coat, black shades and a stern expressionless face. Thomas blinked. It was himself. Yet he still had to ask the criminally stupid question: "Who are you?" he croaked.
The figure did not flinch. He hardly appeared to be breathing. After a few lingering moments of silence in which Thomas studied him uncomfortably, the figure spoke.
"I am Neo."
Thomas let out an exasperated breath and furrowed his brow. "That can't be…that's my alias name…you can't be real…" he said, almost wanting to laugh with absurdity of it all.
"I am more real than you can imagine. It is you who is not real. You are a part of my past. You are not essential anymore."
"What?" Thomas breathed, taking a step backwards, "Why am I here? Why are you here? What the hell is going on?!" he staggered even further back, panting heavily, sweat beginning to penetrate through his white office shirt.
Neo remained still. "I am what you became. I am The One. You only exist here now, in my mind."
Thomas began to feel sick, somehow he knew that these words were true and that made him feel even more sick. "What the hell are you then? What have I become? Some kind of machine? You don't even seem human…"
"I've come to realise, being human is a weakness. You are that weakness. You doubt yourself, you torture yourself with guilt, you lie to yourself with false belief and false hope and you still deny your purpose. You have become obsolete."
Thomas knew it sounded just like his own voice, but yet it wasn't. It was different. It had changed. With anger freshly glinting in his eyes, helooked up at the man who had called himself Neo. "And so you're going to kill me? Kill part of your mind?"
"Yes. But I'll give you a choice, Mr Anderson. You can stand there and die now, or you can run...and I'll chase."
Thomas' breathing calmed down. The walls of his stomach convulsed strongly, but he straightened up, staring back at himself, staring through those black shades.
"Make your choice."
He tried to see Neo's eyes through those glasses, he tried to see something that at least made him look human…but the black glass seemed impenetrable. Why has he given me a choice? What difference does it make? How the hell did I become such an arsehole…This must be some kind of dream… he thought. And if it is, I know what to do…
He stood where he was. Neo standing before him with a gun aimed at his head and Thomas Anderson standing alone and weaponless…and smiling…
Ok peeps...I have just kinda had an epiphany with my theories and philosophies...but it would mean I'd have to change what I've written so far. Do you think I should carry on with this and perhaps write a new story with my new theories, or just leave this one or go back and alter this? Hmmm...I'm not sure if I can work in my new theories later on down the plot line...