TIME: FOUR YEARS LATER

POV: 3rd Two

ix

The man dropped, rather literally, like a stone as blood gushed from his neck. Two smirked triumphantly, "He will be pleased."

"Yes," One, his brother, responded, "He will be very pleased. Now let us leave here. This place unnerves us."

"We agree."

Two put his now bloody switchblade into his pocket, smirking at his Twin. The two of them phased through the floor to the door. He opened it gracefully and both walked out.

"A job well done indeed,"  his brother told him as they jumped into the SUV, "We enjoyed it."

"As did we," Two replied, "But now we must return to Smith. We must speak of our progress to him."

"Yes, we must."

As the Twins drove back at a fairly normal pace, they also contemplated. The last four years had treated the digital assassins well. They were prototypes, see what could be made and what couldn't, and were treated with extreme respect. And so they had good lives. Good stuff.

The only thing that caused them caused them even negligible worries were little words.  Poetry. Both hated poetry. Both were alike in every possible way.

They returned, gracefully parking and entering the building that served as their home. Along with the Agents, they also occupied a building known only as the Agency.

"Hello, Smith." Two said to a suit next to him. The suit stopped, revealing the familiar face.

"Greetings, Twins. Oh, and Narasumi is looking for the both of you."

"Narasumi?" One asked in confusion. Nara, for short, was simply the boss of the program. He ruled over the Twins and the Agents, all the hardwired programs that walked the Matrix, "We will see him immediately."

They quickly hurried up to the top floor of the building that held only a single office.

"Hello, Twins, quickly, come in," beckoned a voice from inside. Both entered, with only hints of fear.

His eyes are narrow, his skin a Caucasian white, as opposed to an albino white. His eyes stare at them, eyes of a reptile, the cat-eyes. Nara was called everything and nothing, he knew everything, and yet was not a true program but something beyond that. The rebels who had been brought before Nara, who even the programs pitied, had even gone as far as to call him a Matrix God, some physical reincarnation of the system itself. Which was surprisingly close to the real thing. For as Narasumi was his current body's name, the name of the entity itself had only been the Matrix Incarnate.

"What do you wish of us? Have we displeased you in some way?" Two asked.

"Not nessacerly displeasure, but I am no longer impressed by your progress."

"We will report for an upgrade immediately." One nodded to Two and they both made mental notes, "Is that all?"

"Agent Micheals will escort you to the upgrade center," Nara told them. He waved his hand in a dismissing gesture, "Go now."

The Twins turned around and saw the blond Agent in the doorway. They greeted each other with only a slight nod and all walked out.

"Do you know what this upgrade will entail, Micheals?" One asked the Agent.

"I do not know, One," Micheals responded in typical Agent monotony. The three entered the elevator. There was silence, and then the elevator went down, leading into a 'ding' as the door opened again to the basement floor.

The last floor has always been the favorite of the Twins: filled with technology beyond all human conception, all machine made; The AI wonders within the AI wonder.

Along the dirt walls were tubes, lab tubes. None were currently occupied or online, it was this that made the Twins so suspicious.

"Which is ours, Micheals? They appear to be all offline." Two asked with curiosity.

"None of them, Twins. You see….."

There is a flash of light, and another Agent, Smith, smacked the dreaded older Twin across the back of the head.

"You have been outdated. We are required to delete you," Micheals finished with a nasty smirk.

~

TIME: TWO HOURS LATER

POV: Two 1st

x

I've never fought something so fast or strong, never thought Agents were this good. They were colleagues of mine..never fought. And this reality had suddenly hit me, something that neither my brother nor I thought would never happen.

And we're losing.

And everyone knows it.

I can't phase in time, One is slowing down on his blocks, and the Agents don't tire. A searing pain shoots through my shoulder; it's a bullet.

I've never been shot before. The pain is terrible and I never want to feel it again. How do people get this rip and then continue their lives? It's beyond me.

Smith unholsters his gun and smiles, "It was nice working with you, Twins."

Before he can shoot the bullet though, he flies forwards. A man in a black jacket is there, snarling viciously. Two more incredibly muscled, tattoo-riddled, shirtless appear behind him. The man with the coat makes a motion with his hands, and as easy as pie the second two musclar ones pick my brother and I up and throw us over their shoulders.

"Let us go!" I shouted, digging my switchblade into the man's back.

"You'll thank me later," the man in the coat says. Then the one holding me reaches back and almost gently presses a trigger point in my neck, causing me to pass out.

~

TIME: TWO DAYS LATER

xi

When I awoke, I noticed that I was healed completely, as if I had phased. I'm also in a bed right now; it appears to be made as well. My brother is on a bed next to me, and he's already awake.

"Where are we?" I ask immediately, "Where is Smith?"

"Smith won't be bothering you anymore." A man says from the doorway. It's the same person who we saw in the bottom floor of the Agency who saved us. He's looking incredibly smug as well, "We saved your asses. The boss says he's interested in you."

"The boss?" One asks with an eyebrow quirked, "Who is the 'the boss'?"

The man laughs, "My name is Abel, by the way. You mean to say that the Agents never told you of the Merovingian?"

I shake my head no, "Who is he?"

Abel chuckles, "Follow me."

We both get up, and follow him.

Wherever we are, the person who made it decided to indulge a bit. Marvelous chandeliers, domed hallways, marble statues, weapons, anything and everything was in the hallways and rooms we were led through. Perhaps 'a bit' was an understatement.

Abel stops in front of a set of grand doors. They are huge, carved intricately. Immediately I think of French doors. He opens them to a single room in which a man, undoubtedly French and clad in black, works at an oak desk. There are three computers hooked up next to him, but in front of him in only paperwork. Abel clears his throat, and the man looks up.

"Ah, Greetings, Bonjour, you two must be the Twins." He smiled, but It was a kind of fake, watery smile.

"Yes. And you would be the Merovingian."

The man nodded. He stood up and bowed to both One and I, and motioned to two of the several seats lining the lavish room, "Please, please, honor me and sit down."

One and I look at each other before acknowledging him. We sat in the chairs directly across from the desk he sits at himself, with that same watery smile, "What does your henchmen Abel speak of this 'joining' you?"

"I want you both," He pointed his fingers at us, "To be my bodyguards."

I sputtered in incoherently, and One merely gawked, "Pardon?" He asked after a couple of moments of silence.

The Merovingian laughed, "I want you to live here and serve me."

"We serve no one." I stated flatly and immediately, "We were not saved from one to work for the other, were we?"

"Oui, you were." He smirked, which fit his face much better then his first expression, "But I have more to offer."

"Speak," One said in response.

"Look at this place. You would live here, first of all. I could have rooms for you two, you could make them whatever you want in whatever design you should need. The Mainframe will never come after you again. All I ask is that you do what I request, which is little."

"What will you request?"

"Hunt a rebel or two down, stand around me when I get visits, look good…it's extremely easy, I assure you…."

There is another knock on the door. The Merovingian types something on one of the three keyboards, and the door is opened again.

I recognized Abel immediately, but the women I knew nothing of. I did know that she was Italian though, and was perfectly proportioned for a woman, with her cream dress being quite scandalous. No doubt the Merovingian's wife.

//"One, why does the Merovingian require a wife?"//

One looked at me strangely and shrugged

"Ah, Persephone, mademoiselle, come in….."  He beckoned to himself, and the one called Persephone sits in a chair closer to the Frenchman, "This is my wife, Persephone…..they are Twin One and Twin Two, belle."

She nodded to us in way of greeting. Already I can see that Persephone is no more a wife to the Merovingian as we are his henchmen. 

"What do you say to that, Jumeaux?"   He asked again, that smile appearing again. Except this time it's snide; he knows we have no true choice, and knows that his offer is excellent. He wears the smirk of a merchant who can overcharge everything and get away with it, knowing people have no choice but to take his items.

I scowled at him, "Do not refer to us in any language other then English. There is no other word for Merovingian, and such our title should be treated with equal respect. We may be jumeaux, but we are the Twins."

"Désolé, je demande pardon. I was not aware that you thought like that."

One snickered to himself, and we both abruptly stood up. He looked at us with anlook the equivalent of a lost pup.

"Shall you stay or not?"

"Very well, we will work with you. We have little choice either."


"Merci, Merci. Abel can show you where your rooms are."

"Room," I correct.

"Room? Oui, one room them," He raised an eyebrow at us. There is a thin layer of disgust in his tone.

"We are not like that," One spat at him, "We are above them, what you think is unnecessary, we sleep little anyway."

Before the Frenchman answered, Abel again appeared in the doorway. The Merovingian pointed to his lackey and we followed him abruptly out.

~

TIME: ONE YEAR LATER

xii

Life was good.  One and I owned a lavish room within the Merovingian's Chateau, and had gained quite some respect.

I had come to be as quite a shock when I had first realized that this place was not the Matrix…. in fact, it was some outer section, or some strange place that appeared to be some awkward section of it. But whatever it did happen to be, the Agents could not find it. And both of else held keys, keys to any door to this place.

Why had he called it that Chateau? Only the Frenchman will know that.

I must admit, though, that he is not a pleasant man. Persephone, as my first guess last year had assumed, was indeed distant from the Merovingian, only a figurehead; a woman of beauty for a man of power. Not to mention his arrogance…he may be smart and know quite a lot, but the sheer conceitedness was astounding.

His connection to the true Matrix, a strange French restaurant, was where I first experienced his ego. It's a very nice place, there is no doubt on that fact, and very expensive as well. But when we came, he ordered a new set put in, and we are to do this, as quipped by Persephone:

"Sit and show everyone how cool he is because he can have anything he wants."

I can't agree more. And although watching the looks on the faces of those who receive stare from One or I, there are things I would rather being doing.

He does send us after rebels, which is extremely amusing. We've not seen Smith while chasing anyone though Agents often help us by accident, namely the saying that the enemy of my enemy is my friend. Despite we are most certainly not their friends.

The feeling of the kill still thrives within me. One and I savor that feeling, watching the rebels die, and know then it's worth it to sit still for an hour or three, looking 'cool'.

Now One and I are chasing rebels, which is quite a lot of fun. They run and jump, aiming for the telephones and we merely phase through such distractions like walls and doors. Humans are at such a disadvantage sometime.

The Frenchman told us that these rebels are called Soren and Binary. They come into sight as we turn the corner, running hectically. The woman is on the phone with an operator outside the Matrix, the man is hastily obeying her directions.

It is easy, this hunt. Humans trip and stumble, while we do not. Speaking of tripping, Binary, preoccupied by the phone, stumbles on a small pothole and the cell flies out of her grasp. Before One can hurl his switchblade, mine smashes into the screen of the phone. They look at us, glare at the dead end behind them, and drop into fighting stances.

"Do you think you can beat us?" I asked in amusement.

The man nods stubbornly. As I go to retrieve my switchblade, bullets tear through the skin of my hand, going straight through the bone.

It's fascinating, blood.

Blood…….

[END FLASHBACKS]

AN:

Well, finally got that all done! I really can't believe I thought I could condense that all into one chapter!

If you get slow, please remember there are two new chapters before this as well.

Do you think everyone could post on each chapter separately? *puppy eyes*