That final gasp. That look of serene peace. A part of you is desperate to know What is it like? Where does it lead you? So you see, that's the secret, the answer to the impossible question, the inevitable cause. It was never the punch they didn't throw or the kick they didn't land. No, it was their own minds letting themselves want it, like you will, for just one moment, one instant, then Slam, gone.
Everything fighter… has a death wish.
The only reason you've lasted as long as you have is through your ties, you are bound to existence through those ties. What are they? you ask. They are your crew, your lost crew of friends, dead now, but never forgotten. For the mind does not forget, it merely does not always remember. You had your obsession with the Prophecy, an obsession that threatened to rival that or Morpheus' for it was the question that drove you, for it concerned Neo, the One, who was then, only a faceless vision in your head. Most influentially, you had you thirst for the chase that has not ended. Yet.
And what do you have now?
Who am I?
I am the voice of your Death
waiting upon you,
disguised as your shadow
even without light.
I only hope you enjoy it as much as they did.
Here endeth the lesson.