Sporadic Internet access + excessive workload + writers block + sleep deprived brain cells + stubborn muses = kind of bad news for this fic
Yeah. Sorry. This is not officially on hiatus or anything, but updates may not be really reliable for a little while. I'm still doing my best to keep writing though. One thing I can't stand is leaving my readers hanging; I feel obligated to work to completion.
The next day found Yoh and Manta walking down a busy city street even before breakfast, fighting the oncoming tide of formally dressed office workers challenging their places on the sidewalk. Apparently unbothered by the people passing by, Manta continued to lecture on the traits of the world at hand. "The matrix is a system, Yoh-kun," he said, continuing on as Yoh managed to barely avoid colliding with a man talking on a cell phone. "That system is our enemy. But when you're in it, what do you see?"
Yoh tripped on a curb, trying to keep up with Manta's smooth, unhampered stride, even through the heavy human traffic.
"There are business people, teachers, lawyers, carpenters… The minds of the very people we are trying to save. But until we do, they are still part of that system, and that makes them our enemy."
Yoh eyed the people around him nervously.
"You have to understand," continued Manta, "most of these people are not ready to be unplugged. And many of them are so dependent on the system that they would fight to preserve it."
His voice seemed to fade out as something caught Yoh's eye. It was a gorgeous, curvaceous blond, dressed in a brilliant, crimson, figure-hugging dress with virtually nonexistent straps and a slit on the left side up to there. She almost brushed against him as she glided past, striding with ease despite the fact that she was wearing stilettos.
"Were you listening to me, Yoh-kun?" demanded Manta. "Or were you watching the woman in the red dress?"
Yoh guiltily jumped back to attention. "I was…"
"Look again," said Manta quietly.
Yoh turned back to where the woman had been, only to find himself staring down the barrel of a .45, grasped in the hand of Agent Marco.
"Freeze it," said Manta, and instantly, the scene ceased to move.
"This…this isn't the matrix?" asked Yoh weakly, shaken by the unpleasant surprise.
"No," said Manta. "This is another training program designed to teach you one thing. If you are not one of us, you are one of them."
"What are they?"
"The Agents. Sentient programs, able to move in an out of any thing still hard-wired into the matrix. So anyone we haven't unplugged could potentially become one of them. They are no one and everyone. We have survived only by hiding and running from them. But they are the gatekeepers. They are holding all the keys, which means that sooner or later, someone is going to have to fight them."
Yoh could feel his heart sinking as Manta's gaze bore into him. "Someone?" he managed to ask.
"I won't lie to you, Yoh-kun," said Manta heavily. "Every single man or woman who has stood their ground, everyone who has fought an Agent has died. Faust's wife Elisa was the most recent casualty," he added quietly. "But where they have failed, you will succeed."
"Why?" asked Yoh, feeling completely baffled.
"I've seen an Agent punch through a concrete wall," mused Manta. "Men have emptied entire clips at them and hit nothing but empty air. But their speed and strength is based on a world of rules. Because of that, they will never be as strong or as fast as you can be."
"What are you telling me?" queried Yoh, not comforted in the least. "That I can dodge bullets?"
Manta shook his head with a slight smile. "No. I'm trying to tell you that when you're ready, you won't have to."
*
"Eat up," said Anna, dropping a bowl of what looked like overly liquid-like mush in front of Yoh. "You've got a big day ahead of you."
"Thanks," said Yoh, eyeing the food dubiously. He had been eating the same thing since he had arrived without any adverse effects, but it still looked questionable.
"You know," put in Horohoro cheerfully, "if you close your eyes, it almost feels like you're eating runny eggs."
"Yeah," said Ren sourly (he was apparently not a morning person), "that or a bowl of snot."
"Know what it reminds me of?" asked Horohoro, not at all put out. "Tasty Wheat. Did you ever eat Tasty Wheat?"
"No," said Pilica, obviously used to playing devil's advocate for her brother. "But technically, neither did you."
"That's exactly my point!" exclaimed Horohoro, banging his spoon on the table with unnecessary vigor. "Exactly! Because you have to wonder now: how did the machines know what Tasty Wheat tasted like? Huh?" He left what was supposed to be a thoughtful silence before his next point. "Maybe they got it wrong. Maybe what I think Tasty Wheat tasted like actually tasted like tuna fish or oatmeal. That makes you wonder about a lot of things. You take chicken for example. Maybe they couldn't figure out what to make chicken taste like, which is why chicken tastes like everything. Maybe they –"
"Shut up, Horohoro," snapped Ren.
The blue haired boy shot him a sulky glare.
"It's a singe-cell protein combined with synthetic aminos, vitamins, and minerals," explained Faust, ever the technical doctor. "Everything the body needs."
"Not everything," argued Horohoro. He turned to Yoh. "Hey, I heard you ran through the Agent training program. You know, I wrote that program."
"Here it comes," groaned Ren, massaging his temples.
"So, what did you think of her?" asked Horohoro excitedly.
"Of who?" asked Yoh, puzzled.
"The woman in the red dress!" said Horohoro impatiently. "I designed her! She doesn't talk much yet, but if you'd like to meet her…"
"Look, Mouse," snapped Ren, "just because you could never get a girlfriend…"
"Not like you could either," shot back Horohoro, pricked by the remark.
"Oh yeah?"
"Hey, guys," said Yoh, "no need to fight over this!"
Horohoro settled back in his seat with a glare at Ren.
Manta stood and cleared his throat, fully breaking up the squabble. "Chrom, Silva, when you're done eating, bring the ship up to broadcast depth. We're going in. I'm taking Yoh to see her."
"See who?" asked Yoh.
"The Oracle," answered Anna, her heart pounding excitedly behind her calm front. The day of truth had come.
*
They entered the matrix in room 1313 of the very same hotel where Yoh and Manta had first met. Immediately, Manta began giving orders, making sure everything would go according to plan. "Faust, Horohoro, you stay here and hold the exit."
"'Kay," said Horohoro, immediately plopping down on a large cushioned chair nearby. Faust nodded and seated himself in a straight-backed chair and pulled out a book to read.
"Lyserg, you and Pilica will watch the downstairs door."
The boy nodded.
"Ren will drive, and Anna will accompany us."
They followed Manta to the elevator, Yoh toying nervously with his hands as they descended. "Did you have to do this?" he asked Anna quietly.
"Yes."
"What did she tell you?"
"Lots of things," she answered evasively.
"Any of them true?"
Anna looked at him curiously, and then back at the closed elevator doors. "Some of them."
"Were they good or bad?"
"There's not point in worrying," she chided, perhaps slightly annoyed. "Whatever's going to happen is going to happen."
They stepped out into the bright sun shining down on the alley behind the hotel. All of them dressed in sleek, long black coats, except for Pilica, who sported stylish white, they trooped down the steps to a sleek car waiting for them. After waiting a moment to make sure the coast was clear, Anna, Ren, Manta, and Yoh walked to the vehicle and got in. Pilica and Lyserg watched silently as they drove off.
No one noticed Lyserg carefully drop an object into the nearest garbage can. It was his cellular phone, the kind everyone on the Nebuchandezzer carried when they were in the matrix. It lay there, still on, simply waiting.
The Agents would trace its signal and location easily exactly as Marco had planned.
*
"Weird," said Yoh, looking out the car window.
"What?" asked Anna.
"I know that restaurant back there. I used to eat there sometimes…really good noodles." He rubbed the back of his head absently. "I mean, I have all these memories that never really happened…"
"We're here," said Ren. "Anna and I will wait with the car."
*
Yoh followed Manta into a perfectly ordinary apartment building and up several flights of stairs. They trekked down a narrow hall that finally ended at a plain, dingy door.
"This is it," said Manta quietly. "I can only lead you to it, but you have to open the door."
Back to the odd, random little symbols, are we? sighed Yoh mentally. Aware that his hand was shaking oddly, he reached for the knob.
It turned before he could touch it, revealing a kindly looking young woman with spiked green hair and a long black dress. "Hello, Morpheus," she said with a smile. "We've been expecting you. And Neo." Her eyes rested on Yoh for a moment before she stepped aside to allow them in.
"Thank you," said Manta politely. He turned to Yoh. "You're on your own now. Jun will show you the way."
Yoh nodded nervously and followed the young woman. She led him to a brighter room, already holding several people ranging in age from grade school to possible university graduates. He had never seen a group quite like what met his eyes.
They all looked perfectly ordinary, except for the fact that they seemed talented in the oddest ways.
"You will wait here," said Jun. "With the other Potentials."
"Okay."
His eyes swept the room. In the corner, a boy with light tousled hair was watching a girl that might have been his sister (her hair was the same color and texture, but longer and in braids) levitate a handful of building blocks. Even as Yoh watched, she passed them carefully over to the boy next to her, and he continued to make them float without touching them.
Yoh blinked a few times, and then took a seat nearby two young men in about their early twenties. One had lavender hair that seemed to spike every which way, while the other had a simpler hairstyle in dark brown.
The first was holding a Japanese samurai sword at arm's length, concentrating on it with all his mind. Yoh stared as fissures lined the blade, and it suddenly shattered all over the floor. The lavender haired youth laughed. "Told you. You can't make a sword I can't break yet, Mosuke."
Mosuke took the now bladeless handle and concentrated on it in a similar fashion. The shards picked themselves off the floor or pulled themselves from the wall, and reformed like liquid into a flawless blade. "There," he said with a grin. "Try this one, Amidamaru."
"How do you do that?" asked Yoh, his mouth agape.
"Try," offered Amidamaru, handing the sword to Yoh.
He took it, held it out like he had seen the other youth do, and concentrated. He focused his mind completely, willing with all his might that the sword might break. He could feel his eyes almost glaring at it, as if he could fissure it with his stare, could picture it cracking within his mind.
Absolutely nothing happened.
He sat back, slightly worn from the effort, shaking his head. Somehow, he couldn't believe that he could do it, and it was as if as long as that little shard of doubt remained, the sword would remain whole
"You cannot break the sword, because it is just that. A sword," said Amidamaru gently. "With me, it can shatter because there is no sword, just my mind."
"You break your mind?" asked Yoh doubtfully, rather put off by the analogy.
"One could say so," mused Mosuke, "but not the way you're thinking. It's not as if he's giving up his sanity; heaven knows he has little enough to spare."
Amidamaru grinned at his friend. "Speak for yourself." He turned back to Yoh. "I choose each fissure that appears; it's not random. I spread my mind, and thus the fragments."
"In the same way, I gather them back," added Mosuke.
Yoh studied the blade in his hands. It looked so terribly solid.
"Link yourself to the sword," advised Amidamaru.
"Like the sword is the soul of the samurai, right?" asked Yoh.
Amidamaru nodded approvingly. "It is a start. Become the sword and loosen the tension within. You are perhaps too concentrated around what you perceive as reality."
Yoh nodded, his eyes still fixed on the gleaming metal, but without the painful single-mindedness as before. "There is no sword. Right." For a moment, he saw no change. Then, gradually, thread-thin cracks began to line the blade, spreading slowly and meticulously.
A hand on his shoulder startled him, though, and the metal was suddenly unblemished again. He turned to see Jun standing behind him.
"The Oracle will see you now."
He nodded and returned the sword to Amidamaru, who merely smiled.
*
Nervously, Yoh walked through the doorway into the room where the Oracle awaited him. To his surprise, the room actually a normal apartment kitchen, and was empty except for a girl about his age with short pink hair, bending over slightly to look in an oven. Whatever was baking smelled divine. "Be with you in a moment, Yoh-sama," she said, not looking up. Her voice was quiet, with a shy sort of tone, but not at all lacking in intelligence. After a moment, she straightened, and turned to face him.
He couldn't help staring, rather baffled. "You're the Oracle?"
"Yes. From what everyone told you, you thought I'd look ancient, didn't you?" she asked.
"Well, yes…but you're pretty."
She blushed profusely. "Thank you. Your brother said that too when he came. Called me the 'Oracle Belle.' Charming, silly boy." The crimson tint in her cheeks had not faded. "Only as old as I feel, I suppose. I take advantage of the RSI like Morpheus." She paused, studying him. "I'd ask you to sit down, but you won't anyway." She pulled out some potholders and opened the oven. "Oh, and, please, don't worry yourself about the vase. I really don't mind."
"What vase?" asked Yoh, starting to feel decidedly awkward. He turned, trying to see what she was talking about, and his arm hit a glazed ceramic piece holding a bunch of neatly arranged flowers. It toppled from its little stand and smashed on the floor in several fragments, splattering water and soggy petals. Klutz, said a disdainful voice inside him.
"That vase," said the Oracle quietly.
"I'm sorry!" he gasped, leaning down to try and retrieve the shards. "I…"
"I told you," she said kindly, putting down the hot cookie sheet and carefully moving the cookies onto a cooling rack, "don't worry about it. Mosuke-san can help me fix it later."
"But how did you know…?"
She smiled, her eyes looking down at the mess. "If you really want something to wonder about, try this: do you think you still would have broken it if I hadn't said anything?"
He opened his mouth, baffled, but said nothing.
She stood back, her eyes taking him in, though she did not fully raise her face to him. "You really do look like your twin. Different sort of charm, though. More empathetic." She gave a wistful smile. "I can see why she likes you."
"Who?" asked Yoh, not sure what she meant.
"Not so bright, though," she remarked to herself, though gently. Yoh thought he caught a teasing undertone. "Now, do you know why Morpheus brought you here?"
"I…guess…"
"So, do you think you're the One, the man who will free humanity?"
Why did everyone he meet throw impossible questions at him? "I…I don't know."
She sighed and gestured to an intricate wooden plaque above the doorway. The words were unintelligible to Yoh. "It's Latin," she said. "It means 'know thyself.' To be honest, being the One is like…" she paused, looking for a metaphor, "like being in love." A hint of the blush again as she looked at him. "No one can tell you you're in love, but you know it. Through and through." Putting down the potholders, she held out her hand shyly. "Nothing personal, but I need to have a look at you."
Still unsure of himself, Yoh put his hand in hers. She examined both his palms and then his face, her timidity fading as she focused on her job. "Well," she said at last, "it's tricky. You're definitely gifted, but…"
"But what?"
"You tell me." At the sound of her quiet voice, he felt suddenly as if he shared a little of her knowledge."
"I'm not the One," he replied.
"Yes," she said. "The bad news is that you're not the One. Still got a lot to learn. Almost like you're waiting for something."
"What's the good news?"
"Same thing," she said wryly. "You're not the One."
He let out a sigh, whether of disappointment, or of relief, he wasn't quite sure. "Oh."
"You're thinking about something," she said.
"Yeah," he agreed quietly. "Morpheus. I almost believed…"
"Morpheus," she said reflectively. "Poor Morpheus. We'd be lost without him."
"What do you mean without him?"
"Are you sure you want to hear this?" she asked, her clear eyes so serious it almost gave him chills. Despite her quiet, schoolgirl-age appearance, he caught the knowledge within her, and sensed the wisdom of millennia weighing on her.
He nodded mutely.
"Morpheus believes in you," she said, her eyes growing blank as she looked over the future, the past, and the hearts of humanity. "He believes in you so blindly that no one, not you or I, can persuade him otherwise. He believes so much that he will sacrifice his life for you."
"What?" Manta…will die?
"I'm sorry," she said, looking as if she truly regretted being the bearer of bad tidings. "But you'll have to make a choice eventually. In one hand you will have Morpheus' life…in the other you will have yours. One of you is going to die. Which will be up to you." She put a hand to her face with a sigh. "I'm so sorry. You have such a good soul, I wish I had better news for you." She turned, as if looking for an excuse to turn her attention somewhere else, then used a napkin to pick up a cookie from the cooling rack. "Here, have a cookie."
He took it, but without the enthusiasm he usually displayed when welcoming food.
"It's okay," she assured him.
He shrugged, unable to come up with a proper response. "Hao came here too?" he asked finally, drawing on something she had said earlier.
She nodded. "He did."
"What…what did you…is he…?"
She leaned back against the counter. "You want to know if he's the One."
"Yeah."
"I usually tell my visitors only what concerns them, not the predictions I've given others." She seemed to ponder his question further. "Trinity told you that at the very beginning, there was a man who knew the matrix for what it was and had great power in controlling it. He passed some of that on to the rest of us before he died."
Yoh waited, wondering where this would go.
"When he died, I knew that he would return."
"You predicted his coming would free humanity."
"His coming would herald the emancipation of mankind."
"Yes. And?"
"He has come again. Hao was that man."
For a moment, Yoh could not breathe. "Hao??"
"Yes."
An instant of awful silence. "Don't worry about it," she said softly, somehow painfully. "You don't believe in fate, remember?" It was as if she were reading off a script, the script of the little time where their lives intersected, and didn't want to see what had and would happen. "Nothing is in control of your life." She looked at him, a sad affection in her eyes. "Eat the cookie. I promise you, by the time you finish it, you'll feel fine. You've got a big day ahead of you."
"Th…thanks," he said, nodding and stepping out through the doorway.
She watched him disappear from view, and then sat down with her eyes closed. It had been trying, meeting him, knowing what he would go through, knowing that he would love another. The Oracle had watched Yoh from his very beginnings, known him as only one with her Sight could, but he did not know her, would never know her. She could only care from a distance.
But what weighed on her most of all were the things she had left unspoken, that she had known but not told.
And just as heavy were the bent truths flown from her mouth for his own good.
*
Kanna's eyes narrowed, fixed on the monitors in front of her. "I don't like this." Standing up, she slipped a plasma gun into a holster hanging loosely at her side. She would take care of this matter herself.
To be continued…