The End of the Beginning
Chapter seven
Voice Of Reason2: Thanks for reviewing like always!
SmithsAgent: Thanks for reviewing and I'm glad you like it!
AgentHamsterdance: Goody you like it too! Thanks for reviewing!
Selina Enriquez: Glad you liked it!
robotnik: Thanks for the review!
kutekilala: Thanks for the review!
fork girl: Thanks for reviewing, Chaz!
Lee Jun-Fan: Thanks for reviewing!
Disclaim: You know the drill.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Standing in a muddy street crater, a rain-soaked Smith nodded and a hovercraft slammed through a stone wall. Troops of black crab-like ships moved across a barren earth followed by a white light and a scream of agony.
"AAAHHH!" screamed Smith, as he fell off the couch. He landed on his back with a thump. Bolting to his feet, the exile looked around frantically. He was in his white-walled, green-furnitured living room, not a giant hole in the street. The artificial sun shone in through the glass door, creating a block of light on the floor.
" It was just a dream..Just a dream." Smith thought " Wasn't it?" He closed his eyes, trying to remember the blur of images. The first image, with himself and the street crater, Smith couldn't figure out, except that it was in the Matrix, but that was it. Then, the next two images of the ships appeared to be in the Real World. As for the white light and the scream, the exile was drawing blanks. To top it all off, one question pounded through his head. What did it all mean? Smith didn't know the answer.
" It means nothing, Smith, you fool." He thought, sitting down on the couch. "A dream is merely a series of mental images that occurs during sleep. Nothing more." The exile ran his right hand through his brown hair. He glanced around the room, then to his hand.
"I should fix this," he said, staring at his scalded palm. Changing his vision so he could see code, Smith looked to his palm. It read as blistered, with the beginning of an infection. The exile repaired the code in his hand, so it was healed. Smith then repaired the rips and tears on his suit and the cut on his forehead. "Just like new." The program spoke softly, smirking and flexing his palm. By repairing the code on his body, Smith felt a new energy inside him, an invigorated feeling.
Standing with newfound strength, the program stepped into his ruined office. He was stopped by the destruction that greeted him.
" This is far worse than I remember," he muttered, casting his gaze around the room.
The desk chair, which had been smoldering, had fallen over and burned a large hole in the gray carpet. His desk had been scorched beyond recognition and had collapsed from the inside. Smith moved forward and heard a metallic crunch beneath his polished shoes. Stepping back and tilting his head down, his blue eyes curious, the exile looked into the remains of his laptop. Kneeling down, he picked it up by a corner of the keyboard and promptly dropped it. He winced.
" Still hot," he said, staring at it.
The laptop was virtually destroyed, its monitor barely noticeable. Some of its plastic shell had melted from the explosion and hardened in a strange way, giving the computer a warped look. Standing up, Smith decided to do a little cleanup. By simply repairing the code in the room, it would look as if the accident had never happened. Switching his vision to code, the former Agent looked around. Then he paused; he didn't believe what he was seeing.
" What in the..?" thought Smith, staring at the space by his desk.
A body lay spread-eagled on the carpet by the scorched desk. He had not seen the figure before. While still seeing the world in code, Smith stepped toward the unknown person, drawn by some unseen force. Whoever this person was, they were not breathing or moving at all for that matter. Dropping to his knees beside the still figure, the former Agent felt as if he had met the person before, a long time ago. The code on the mysterious body was unnaturally familiar.
" Who is this?" he whispered "How did they get here?"
Smith reached for the shoulder of the stranger. He felt a sense of foreboding; part of him didn't want to know. But another part was uncontrollably curious. The sides fought for a moment and the curious side won. Placing his hand firmly on the shoulder, he flipped the body over. And looked right into his own eyes.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Dun, dun, dun! Another chapter finished! Aren't I just the evil cliffhanger fairy? Oh, well stop complaining! A couple of reviews might speed up the writing process though.. Anyways see you later! Oh, yeah Voice Of Reason2 thanks for your help! This chapter is for you!
Chapter seven
Voice Of Reason2: Thanks for reviewing like always!
SmithsAgent: Thanks for reviewing and I'm glad you like it!
AgentHamsterdance: Goody you like it too! Thanks for reviewing!
Selina Enriquez: Glad you liked it!
robotnik: Thanks for the review!
kutekilala: Thanks for the review!
fork girl: Thanks for reviewing, Chaz!
Lee Jun-Fan: Thanks for reviewing!
Disclaim: You know the drill.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Standing in a muddy street crater, a rain-soaked Smith nodded and a hovercraft slammed through a stone wall. Troops of black crab-like ships moved across a barren earth followed by a white light and a scream of agony.
"AAAHHH!" screamed Smith, as he fell off the couch. He landed on his back with a thump. Bolting to his feet, the exile looked around frantically. He was in his white-walled, green-furnitured living room, not a giant hole in the street. The artificial sun shone in through the glass door, creating a block of light on the floor.
" It was just a dream..Just a dream." Smith thought " Wasn't it?" He closed his eyes, trying to remember the blur of images. The first image, with himself and the street crater, Smith couldn't figure out, except that it was in the Matrix, but that was it. Then, the next two images of the ships appeared to be in the Real World. As for the white light and the scream, the exile was drawing blanks. To top it all off, one question pounded through his head. What did it all mean? Smith didn't know the answer.
" It means nothing, Smith, you fool." He thought, sitting down on the couch. "A dream is merely a series of mental images that occurs during sleep. Nothing more." The exile ran his right hand through his brown hair. He glanced around the room, then to his hand.
"I should fix this," he said, staring at his scalded palm. Changing his vision so he could see code, Smith looked to his palm. It read as blistered, with the beginning of an infection. The exile repaired the code in his hand, so it was healed. Smith then repaired the rips and tears on his suit and the cut on his forehead. "Just like new." The program spoke softly, smirking and flexing his palm. By repairing the code on his body, Smith felt a new energy inside him, an invigorated feeling.
Standing with newfound strength, the program stepped into his ruined office. He was stopped by the destruction that greeted him.
" This is far worse than I remember," he muttered, casting his gaze around the room.
The desk chair, which had been smoldering, had fallen over and burned a large hole in the gray carpet. His desk had been scorched beyond recognition and had collapsed from the inside. Smith moved forward and heard a metallic crunch beneath his polished shoes. Stepping back and tilting his head down, his blue eyes curious, the exile looked into the remains of his laptop. Kneeling down, he picked it up by a corner of the keyboard and promptly dropped it. He winced.
" Still hot," he said, staring at it.
The laptop was virtually destroyed, its monitor barely noticeable. Some of its plastic shell had melted from the explosion and hardened in a strange way, giving the computer a warped look. Standing up, Smith decided to do a little cleanup. By simply repairing the code in the room, it would look as if the accident had never happened. Switching his vision to code, the former Agent looked around. Then he paused; he didn't believe what he was seeing.
" What in the..?" thought Smith, staring at the space by his desk.
A body lay spread-eagled on the carpet by the scorched desk. He had not seen the figure before. While still seeing the world in code, Smith stepped toward the unknown person, drawn by some unseen force. Whoever this person was, they were not breathing or moving at all for that matter. Dropping to his knees beside the still figure, the former Agent felt as if he had met the person before, a long time ago. The code on the mysterious body was unnaturally familiar.
" Who is this?" he whispered "How did they get here?"
Smith reached for the shoulder of the stranger. He felt a sense of foreboding; part of him didn't want to know. But another part was uncontrollably curious. The sides fought for a moment and the curious side won. Placing his hand firmly on the shoulder, he flipped the body over. And looked right into his own eyes.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Dun, dun, dun! Another chapter finished! Aren't I just the evil cliffhanger fairy? Oh, well stop complaining! A couple of reviews might speed up the writing process though.. Anyways see you later! Oh, yeah Voice Of Reason2 thanks for your help! This chapter is for you!