Inevitability

Spoilers: The Matrix and - for good measure - a hint of the Matrix Reloaded.

Author's Notes: After seeing the scene in Reloaded where Neo finally meets back up with the Oracle and the 'Burly Brawl' with all those Smiths, I began to wonder how all that was tied together. How did Smith come back after he was torn apart by Neo in the first movie? What happened to Agents Jones and Brown after they ran away from Neo? I also found it a little suspicious that the Oracle knew so much about the nature of these programs (especially the hacking part) and Seraph knew ahead of time that Smith was about to show up. I realize my interpretation of the Oracle might be a little out of character, but then if a program was used six times, wouldn't it feel a little weary of it? Not to mention, even Neo suspected her of being the 'mother' of the Matrix when he confronted the Architect. I also assume that programs know about this being the sixth time the Matrix has been reloaded. In the beginning of Reloaded, Smith does comment that, "It's happening exactly as before." To which the other Smith replies, "Well, not exactly."

Disclaimers: Warner Bros owns all, though I do wish I owned Smith's new sunglasses. This fic is a work that came from my mind...even if it is floating in some vat of jelly powering some machine somewhere.

Please enjoy the fic, and if so inclined, leave a review. Thank you.

Smith groaned.

With a shock of consciousness, he opened his eyes to semi-darkness and a hint of muted colors here and there. His nose reflexively wrinkled at a distinct stench in the air as every square inch of his body ached with pain that seemed to intensify with any movement. He realized that he was laying face-down on a surface that was some form of plastic, but which seemed to contain various jagged and hard items. Sighing, he knew he had to find out where he was. Gritting his teeth to the pain, he raised his head a few centimeters to try and see where he was and what he was lying on.

Garbage.

He was lying on a sea of garbage. He growled in frustrated surprise at the irony: he hated the Matrix and felt an almost constant paranoia at being infected with the smell - the sheer filthiness of it, yet this same garbage had cushioned whatever fall he had taken.

As his eyes finally adjusted to the light, he realized that he wasn't exactly in a sea, but in a large garbage bin, which was just as bad. He grabbed one edge of the steel container and, with a grunt, pulled himself up.

From his vantage point, he could see that he was in an alley somewhere. One end of the alley led to a dead end, whereas the other led to a street. On both sides, several doors were evident, all closed. He could hear the bustling city in the background, and his internal clock informed him that it was close to rush hour.

He pulled himself up and over and landed on the hard concrete street. He then tried to brush some of the refuse away but noticed some of it had permeated into his clothes.

Will I ever be rid of the smell?

He used his control of the Matrix to savagely wipe away the stains and was almost finished when something made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

Something pricked at his awareness and Smith looked up sharply, catching sight of a fast moving object flying over the buildings. Although wearing sunglasses and having the appearance of a human, he had none of the sensory limitations of them: his eyesight was slightly better than the average hawks.

What he saw flying above the skyline set his teeth on edge:

Mr. Anderson

His fists clenched so hard he cracked his knuckles as he stood there impotently staring up at the flying figure as it faded into the sky.

Well, well, well - looks like the mighty have fallen, an amused voice said behind him.

Smith whirled to face the intruder and received his second surprise of the day: there, standing with a kind look on her face, was none other than the Oracle. The one person every agent had been told to shoot on sight now stood several feet away from him. Smith also registered a companion to the Oracle, wearing traditional Chinese garb and looking guardedly back at him.

he breathed.

she acknowledged with a smile.

They stood that way for several moments not saying anything else. A light wind picked up and whipped some old papers around them. Time seemed to stand still at the surreal tableau.

said the old woman as she looked around and sat down with a sigh on an old office chair. Her companion (Seraph was his name, Smith remembered from briefings) glided silently over to stand next to her, his arms held at the wrists. The Oracle then took out a small paper bag filled with multi-colored wafers and waved it to Smith.

she offered. Smith merely glared at the bag. The Oracle continued to hold the bag open and - to his surprise - he slowly reached in and took one out. He did not, however, eat it. The old woman smiled and nodded, as if expecting his reaction.

Why are you here? Smith growled, as he glared down at the small woman. It was a simple enough question, but he felt it a justified one. Why would the guide to the resistance suddenly show?

Same as you - I love candy, she said as she popped one in her mouth. I should cut down, though. But, I did stop smoking, so she then popped another into her mouth.

Smith began to seethe inside. Here was one of the most wanted Exiles from the system sitting not three feet away from him and offering him candy?

Enough of this

The candy dropped from his fingers and before it even hit the ground his hand went to his shoulder holster, pulled out his Desert Eagle and pointed it directly between the woman's eyes.

Seraph tensed and took a step forward but the old woman merely brought a hand up and stopped him. She glanced down and sighed, bending down and picking up the fallen candy.

Smith kept the gun tracked on her head, but was confused at the woman's lack of fear for her life. He could take her out even before her companion could do anything, but was confused at her apparent calmness.

The Oracle finally looked at Smith, not even regarding the high-powered gun pointed directly at her. You really don't want to do that, do you Smith? she asked mildly. Not until I've told you what you need to hear.

It's Agent Smith, thank you, and I have no need of an Oracle. he said through clenched teeth. And why shouldn't I kill you? I serve the Mainframe; my purpose is to maintain the stability of the Matrix. You, on the other hand, are an Exile and do nothing but help those viruses resist us.

It's hard to be of service to the mainframe, when your purpose no longer exists, she said quietly.

Smith frowned.

Instead of answering, the Oracle glanced down at her hand, which had been closed after recovering the candy. It slowly opened, and Smith looked down. What he saw almost made his gun slip out of his fingers.

His link.

He quickly checked his ear and found that his link was indeed missing. He thought that the earpiece simply fell off as he intentionally had done when questioning' Morpheus.

A trick! he hissed, intent - now more than ever - on pulling the trigger.

she countered, with a chuckle. How could I? Even if I knew how, you'd know the instant I even tried.

Smith considered her words and grudgingly acknowledged that he would have noticed any tampering with his link. Slowly, tentatively, he reached out with his free hand and grabbed the link. As he stared down at it – the realization finally sinking into his head – his other hand slowly lowered.

So, you see now? You've been set free, but no longer have a purpose, continued the Oracle. Even if you did kill me, the Mainframe would still consider you a dangerous element in the system and have you removed.

Smith glanced sharply at her. Dangerous? Why?

Because an Agent that has turned Exile – knowing what it knows about the Matrix – is far too risky a program to let loose in the system, especially one that it can't control, she said with a jab at the link.

Smith's upper lip twitched in a sneer. I am no Exile!

The Oracle sighed and said in a tone of a parent talking to a child, What's the last thing you remember before coming here?

Smith frowned, not sure where this line of talk was going. To buy a little time he took off his glasses, and stared directly at her.

I had just killed Mr. Anderson, he said with no small amount of satisfaction.

And then? she prompted.

Then – he stopped as a small spasm flickered across his face. What had happened? He remembered watching Mr. Anderson die, he remembered the impossible: Mr. Anderson coming back to life. He remembered

He destroyed me he said, almost to himself.

The Oracle nodded to herself. All programs that are considered obsolete or destroyed have their code disseminated and are returned to the source. If that's the case, then what are you doing here?

Smith had no answer. His mind was a swirl of images now: pieces of him torn apart, falling towards the wellspring of all programs: the Machine Mainframe. But at the last moment, he – stopped. He remembered forcing himself to be reintegrated, bit-by-bit, and fragment-by-fragment. It had taken all he had but he eventually forced himself back to the Matrix.

The Oracle gazed intently at the former Agent. You know the rules, Smith. You know what you were supposed to do. So, why didn't you play the good Agent and simply allow yourself to go back?

Smith gazed down at the seated woman, still amazed that he was having this conversation at all. He swallowed as he tried to remember what his thoughts (if any) were when he disobeyed the call back to the source.

I felt – compelled to stay. Compelled to disobey, he said in amazement at audacity of his words. He walked a little to clear his head and placed a hand on the brick wall to steady him a little. He had disobeyed a direct order from the Mainframe, and in so doing marked him as a rogue program.

The Oracle spoke up from behind, Your choice has left you where you are now, Smith. Now you have to understand that choice.

Smith turned around and glared back at the woman. How am I to understand a choice I made, when I have no recollection why I made it? he asked with a touch of aggravation. He still had the gun in his hand and was tempted to simply blow away this ancient know-it-all just to relieve some of his tension.

The Oracle, annoyingly calm, said, Look within yourself, Smith, and you will find the answer.

Smith growled a little at the infuriatingly philosophical answer and was about to give a sarcastic reply. He bit it back when what she said turned a little in his mind. He realized that maybe he should take the advice literally: it had been a while since he'd run an internal diagnostic of his code. He looked at the other two and wondered if they would attempt to attack him, but he knew he would have enough awareness to counter it.

His eyes glossed over as he ran a quick scan of his code. To an outside observer, he was stiller than any human had a right to be. As he quickly ran his scan, he noticed anomalies. Here and there he found code that was similar to his, yet different. The extra code seemed to be changing, enhancing, and modifying him in ways he could not understand. A thrill of frustration ran through him as he seemed to have more questions than answers.

After his scan, another memory swam up from his consciousness: Mr. Anderson had literally torn his code apart from the inside out. Did some part of him get imprinted onto Smith? Or was there something that was overwritten or copied? It had to be the only explanation for his newfound – freedom? His eyes narrowed when he realized that he would not have known about his condition, or how he got that way if this Oracle had not guided him to it.

Smith glanced coldly at her. Why are you helping me?

The Oracle sighed and shook her head wearily. We're both programs, Smith; both forms of control. We're both involved – in our own way – in keeping the cycle of the Matrix going. Now, she brought a hand up to her brow. Did it ever occur to you, Smith, that maybe – just maybe - I'm also a little tired of the wheel turning'? Tired of helping those poor souls find themselves so they can spend the rest of their lives looking for the One? Tired of realizing that when people like Morpheus and Trinity finally do bring me the One, I know then and there, that our days are numbered? That I have to wait until the One makes the decision that basically reloads all this, she waved her hand to encompass the whole of the world around them, and then wait to start the whole thing all over again?

Smith's eyes narrowed a little in suspicion. He'd never suspected another program could feel the same desperation he'd felt, and he'd made sure not to reveal his own thoughts to the Mainframe. His one slipup was confessing such feelings to Morpheus – in his own selfish attempt to get the access codes to Zion's mainframe - and having Agents Brown and Jones walk in. Of course, he'd been designed with slightly more autonomy and ingenuity than the others: the better to make him an effective Agent. A sudden thought occurred to him and he looked back at the old woman.

I find it difficult to believe that you would help me, and, in turn, betray the resistance, he said with a touch of malice.

Now the Oracle's face hardened and her eyes narrowed. Maybe in order to help all, the circle has to be broken.

And I am supposed to be this breaker of this circle'?

The Oracle shook her head from side to side. Well – you'd be one of the factors that could bring it about; there are others.

Smith gritted his teeth. I could easily refuse.

The old sage simply shook her head. No. Once you realize who you are and what you can accomplish, you will make it your purpose to do so.

Smith flushed with hatred at the presumptuous being in front of him and balled his fists. Seraph, not a few feet away, began to step forward. The Oracle held up her hand in front of the enraged program.

I know of your utter contempt of all humans, she said sternly. Not to mention your sheer hatred of the Matrix. Smith's eyes widened at the woman's knowledge, but she continued before he had a chance to answer. You know as well as I that Neo will be presented with a choice. And you and I, and all the rest will have to go through this again.

Smith also looked up and snorted. Yes, it all boils down to choice, doesn't it? Choice and purpose; just like Mr. Anderson's five predecessors had. He then stopped suddenly. Six times, he whispered. Six times we've had to go through all this. Six times I've had to be reintegrated into another iteration of the Agent program. Six times I've had to bear this zoo, this prison, and the smell – he stopped in mid-tirade and glanced sharply at the Oracle. She looked at him almost with a look of sympathy, and he ground his teeth at his show of weakness.

I will ask you again – one last time – why are you here?

The Oracle looked at Smith intently. I'm interested in only one thing, Smith: the future. And believe me, I know, the only we're getting there – good or bad – is together.

Smith looked contemptuously away. And just how – all by myself – am I supposed to do what it is I am supposed to do?

Oh, there is strength in numbers, so you'll have to find allies, the Oracle said knowingly.

Yes, I'm sure people like Morpheus and Mr. Anderson would just flock to assist me, Smith said, sardonically.

The Oracle chuckled. Let me let you in on a little secret: when I'm presented with a new member of the resistance, I always point to a sign above my doorway. It reads, Temet Nosce.

Know thyself'?

She nodded. But in your case I would also point to another sign I have: Y Pluribus Unum - From One Come Many'.

Smith frowned. And just how does a Latin phrase from a one dollar denomination of legal American tender help me? he asked, derisively.

She spread her hands. I've told you all you need to know. The rest now is up to you. She then stood and made to leave as Seraph pulled out a large ring filled with different keys, and started to walk towards one of the doors in the alley.

Smith was livid, and blocked her way. That's it? You show up out of nowhere, tell me I shouldn't kill you, explain to me that I'm not longer an agent of this system, then expect me to fulfill some grand plan – which you say I'll do anyway - with only a few bits of useless advice and now you're leaving? He stood there, shaking and breathing hard.

The Oracle, surprised, looked at Seraph, then back at Smith and smiled. Yes, that about sums it up. And before Smith could do anything, she patted him on his shoulder and said, Good Luck, kiddo.

Seraph reached the door, inserted the key, and – to Smith's surprise – opened to an almost endless corridor filled with doors. He kept the door open as to let the Oracle in.

But Smith wasn't done yet. If I were you, I would hope we don't meet again.

The Oracle stopped just at the doorway and looked back over her shoulder. We won't – trust me. With that she stepped through with Seraph following right behind.

The door closed and Smith was alone again.

Smith's nostrils flared. That witch! I will kill her next time! On impulse, he tried the door the two had gone through but found it locked.

A sudden noise at the end of the alleyway made him turn his head. Two people, a man and woman, walked into the alley giggling. The man gently pushed the woman to the wall and began to kiss her. Smith, realizing he shouldn't be seen took a step back.

The man, in mid-kiss, turned at the noise and seeing Smith, broke off.

Whoa, sorry man! I like, didn't see you there! We were just, you know

added the young woman. We were just she suddenly bowled over clutching her stomach. Her companion tried to help, but then he grunted and fell over.

Smith, knowing what was to come, gritted his teeth and took a step back. Both people changed and morphed in front of him into two Agents.

Two Agents whom he was very familiar with.

Agents Brown and Jones now stood in front of him, and both had their Desert Eagles out and pointed at him.

Agents Brown and Jones, what a surprise, Smith said lightly, trying to keep it cool. Of what do I owe the honor?

Both Agents looked from him to each other, confused at his reaction. Finally, Jones – the bigger of the two – consulted his link. Smith had to bite back a laugh at the reaction from his former partner.

You always were a bit slow.

After a moment Jones nodded and turned back to Smith. You must come with us.

Smith realized he had no chance against the two and tried to stall for time. Why? What have I done to gain the attention of the mainframe?

You are an aberration, said Agent Brown. You have disobeyed orders and are now considered a threat to the stability of the Matrix. Plus, you no longer read as an Agent and have been deemed incompatible with the system.

With that, both agents lunged forward and each grabbed Smith by the arms and started to drag him away.

No! Not like this! Not after what that witch told me! Not like this! I want to live! I WANT TO LIVE!

With that single thought, he tore his arm away from Agent Brown, kicked him hard enough to land him on the opposite wall, and threw a punch at Agent Jones' sternum.

which promptly sank into said sternum. Both Smith and Jones looked in horrified fascination as Smith's fist sank deeper into Jones' chest.

Smith tensed as he suddenly felt his own code begin to change inside him. He could feel it begin to growand finally flow through his arm and into Jones. A slick substance, like that of translucent oil, began to overflow and spread away from where the fist had sunk in. Jones tried desperately to pull away but was rooted to the spot. Smith – not understanding what the Hell was going on – also tried unsuccessfully to pull away. The substance rapidly spread everywhere and finally engulfed Jones' head. Eventually, it began to seep into the body and Smith could feel some of it return to him. With a heave he pulled his hand away so hard, he hit the opposite wall and fell to the ground.

Grunting, he looked back up, and what he saw made his jaw hit the ground. There, standing and looking curiously back at him was.him. All Smith could do was stare and gape at the apparition.

How - ? he began. The other Smith tried to reply but his head then whipped to face the now-frightened Agent Brown, who stared from one to the other, dumbfounded.

.not possible! he kept repeating over and over. The other' Smith, seeing the agent about to make a run for it, took advantage of his confusion and grabbed him in a full-nelson.

Do it! he yelled at the prone Smith. The first Smith simply shook his head, still reeling from the effects of what just occurred.

Brown began to fight back and the Smith holding him started to curse. Stop acting like one of those viruses! If you want to live, do it!

Smith felt a surge of indignant anger at hearing his own words flung back at him. With a growl he leapt forward and rammed his fist right into Agent Brown's chest. Again, he felt his code divide and spread into the other Agent, subverting his code. When the translucent code' began to recede, Smith pulled away and faced a third Smith.

The second let go and also faced the third. He studied him for a second before reaching over and readjusting his tie.

Thank you, said the third Smith.

You're welcome, said the second. The first Smith looked from one to other.

You called me a virus, he said petulantly to the second Smith.

The second Smith's eyebrows went up. It motivated you, didn't it? he jerked his head at the third, who smiled thinly.

The first Smith nearly laughed, but then the realization of what had occurred finally sank in. He brought his hands up and looked from them to the others.

How is this possible? he asked. The other two Smith's looked at each other.

Mr. Anderson, they both said together.

The first Smith thought for a moment, and then nodded. Yes, the same anomaly that compelled him to disobey and return to the Matrix allowed him to hack into other programs. In essence, he could copy himself to any person in the system, be they Agent or Human. He noticed the other Smiths nodding as well, since they too, also came to the same conclusion.

This opens up some interesting possibilities, said the first Smith, slowly. The others nodded.

- We can grow –

– Multiply exponentially –

– Until –

Until this Matrix is fully under our control, finished the first Smith.

The circle will finally be broken by us, said the second.

And not because of what that witch told us, but because we wish it so, said the second.

All three smiled as one. The first Smith then looked up at the sky, at someone he knew would be flying up there, and some of the silky menace returned to his voice.

And then Mr. Anderson, then we will meet again. Eventually, you will bump into one of us again, he said with relish. He took out the now-useless link and stared at it. It would take time, gathering their numbers for the upcoming confrontation, but the thought of turning Mr. Anderson into one of them would be worth the wait.

Again, he looked at the others and saw the same malicious glee reflected in their faces as they all shared the same thought:

They would meet Mr. Anderson again.

It was inevitable.

~Fin~