Neo stepped into the street outside the Oracle's apartment block, breathing
heavily. His insides felt like they had been filled with dry ice -
shrivelling, cringing and burning painfully. He felt angry, not at the
Oracle, but at the whole situation. It wasn't fair, they had done nothing
wrong. There was nothing they could have done to avoid this cruel quirk of
fate, so here he was, alone.
It wasn't fair.
Trinity wasn't dead. He knew this instinctively, yet. . . there were worse things than death.
He couldn't bear the thought of Trinity in pain.
Suddenly, a strange sensation swept over him, like he was being called. Like someone was signalling to him.
*Neo*
He looked around, was it a voice? He shook his head, trying to rid himself of the odd feeling. Morpheus was upstairs still. Was it possible to imagine things in the Matrix?
*Neo, I need you*
He jerked his head. Again. It sounded like . . . but it couldn't possible be. And how on earth was it that he could sense her anyway?
*NEO!*
He stepped forward, walked off quickly, broke into a jog. Trinity was calling him, he felt inescapably drawn to her. All thoughts of Morpheus, the Oracle - even the Matrix -left his head. Somehow, he knew where to go, knew where he would find her. But she was in danger.
Trinity! His mind screamed. Trinity! Danger!
Run, Neo.
Run.
He pounded the footpath, turned the corner onto a main road. Startled shoppers and pedestrians jumped out of the way of the crazy man in the odd leather clothes as he tore a wide swathe through them. Left! Right, left, left. Right!
Run Neo.
He turned into a deserted dusty street, skidded to a halt outside the Taj Mahal Indian Restaurant. Here. He felt the expectancy build up in him, weighed down by sickening fear of what he would find. Slowly he pushed through its solid, broken doors and dusty, deserted interior. The back door was held closed by a rusted padlock. He yanked it off, and barged the locked doors with his shoulder until he burst through the door into the grimy alleyway behind.
At his feet lay the still, crumpled form of Trinity. She was filthy, covered in dirt and dried blood, eyes in a sunburned face gazing sightlessly up at the blue sky above.
It wasn't fair.
Trinity wasn't dead. He knew this instinctively, yet. . . there were worse things than death.
He couldn't bear the thought of Trinity in pain.
Suddenly, a strange sensation swept over him, like he was being called. Like someone was signalling to him.
*Neo*
He looked around, was it a voice? He shook his head, trying to rid himself of the odd feeling. Morpheus was upstairs still. Was it possible to imagine things in the Matrix?
*Neo, I need you*
He jerked his head. Again. It sounded like . . . but it couldn't possible be. And how on earth was it that he could sense her anyway?
*NEO!*
He stepped forward, walked off quickly, broke into a jog. Trinity was calling him, he felt inescapably drawn to her. All thoughts of Morpheus, the Oracle - even the Matrix -left his head. Somehow, he knew where to go, knew where he would find her. But she was in danger.
Trinity! His mind screamed. Trinity! Danger!
Run, Neo.
Run.
He pounded the footpath, turned the corner onto a main road. Startled shoppers and pedestrians jumped out of the way of the crazy man in the odd leather clothes as he tore a wide swathe through them. Left! Right, left, left. Right!
Run Neo.
He turned into a deserted dusty street, skidded to a halt outside the Taj Mahal Indian Restaurant. Here. He felt the expectancy build up in him, weighed down by sickening fear of what he would find. Slowly he pushed through its solid, broken doors and dusty, deserted interior. The back door was held closed by a rusted padlock. He yanked it off, and barged the locked doors with his shoulder until he burst through the door into the grimy alleyway behind.
At his feet lay the still, crumpled form of Trinity. She was filthy, covered in dirt and dried blood, eyes in a sunburned face gazing sightlessly up at the blue sky above.