Here is the deal, folks. Chapters 2 and 3 were written on a whim with no
clear direction or plot, so I nuked them. I also edited my accents to be
less distracting and craptacular, so you'll just have to imagine them until
I get accent counseling from Dylan.
I feel this prologue is a solid start and I can rebuild from here. (I appreciate the reviews, BTW. Leave me some more with suggestions for where the story could go. I plan on having a few different plotlines going at once, so throw one at me and I'll see if I can work it in.)
The war had ended. Well, or maybe not. The war was probably far from over. There were still decisions to be made on how to transition into a new era of peace and prosperity involving man and machine.
The sun was rising on a brand new day in the city. Slowly, one by one, the "Rebels" from Zion that had fought this war would free the minds of the millions of humans still connected to the Matrix.
That thought annoyed the Merovingian. Oh well, he thought, they'll still need a place to party until they get contacted. He looked over at his wife. They were both leaning on the railing of the second floor "stage" of the Hel nightclub.
"It's a shame, you know," he said to Persephone. "After they have vinished their work, the Matrix may come to an end. And what will become of our beautiful club and restaurant?" His French accent was particularly apparent in this last word.
She came back in a beautiful Italian voice, "You know, some humans will choose not to leave." "Perhaps, but I seriously doubt it. You and I... we will be deleted, our clubs and restaurants will stand no longer."
"They never really stood anyway. They were illusions." His wife looked back down at the dance floor, at the abandoned DJ booth. DJ Hel had left his gas mask there from the previous night, when Seraph, Trinity, and Morpheus had entered with their guns raised.
"It will take years to cycle out all the humans, if they even choose to go. This club has a few years left in it yet, I think." "I certainly hope so, Persephone."
I feel this prologue is a solid start and I can rebuild from here. (I appreciate the reviews, BTW. Leave me some more with suggestions for where the story could go. I plan on having a few different plotlines going at once, so throw one at me and I'll see if I can work it in.)
The war had ended. Well, or maybe not. The war was probably far from over. There were still decisions to be made on how to transition into a new era of peace and prosperity involving man and machine.
The sun was rising on a brand new day in the city. Slowly, one by one, the "Rebels" from Zion that had fought this war would free the minds of the millions of humans still connected to the Matrix.
That thought annoyed the Merovingian. Oh well, he thought, they'll still need a place to party until they get contacted. He looked over at his wife. They were both leaning on the railing of the second floor "stage" of the Hel nightclub.
"It's a shame, you know," he said to Persephone. "After they have vinished their work, the Matrix may come to an end. And what will become of our beautiful club and restaurant?" His French accent was particularly apparent in this last word.
She came back in a beautiful Italian voice, "You know, some humans will choose not to leave." "Perhaps, but I seriously doubt it. You and I... we will be deleted, our clubs and restaurants will stand no longer."
"They never really stood anyway. They were illusions." His wife looked back down at the dance floor, at the abandoned DJ booth. DJ Hel had left his gas mask there from the previous night, when Seraph, Trinity, and Morpheus had entered with their guns raised.
"It will take years to cycle out all the humans, if they even choose to go. This club has a few years left in it yet, I think." "I certainly hope so, Persephone."