Yes, I do use both forms of Merovingian. That's because I brushed over the file last time and changed every mention of his name I saw. This time I think I got all of them, but I wasn't excessively thorough. Won't ruin the story for you, will it?



I'm glad you like my characterization of Smith. It's more or less how I imagined him too.



This chapter focuses on Seraph less, but you do find out some very important information about him. If your questions remain unanswered at the end of this chapter, they might not be answered. Feel free to ask them anyway. Unlike a certain pair of brothers, I have no qualms about making things a bit clearer.



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Scene 06-1: Unknown Quantity

Swirling the sparkling red wine in his glass, the Merovingian brought it to his lips and drank slowly. Excellent vintage. Tonight was shaping up to be a good night, after all. Business had gone well, there had been no disturbances and he had already made arrangements for... later amusement.

Something glass shattered behind him, and the Merovingian's expression became a frown.

"Be careful or I will have you fired!" he snapped irritably.

"Ever so sorry," a voice responded, cold and slightly amused. Turning, the Merovingian glanced at the figure in the doorway with an expression of horror. A slight smirk on his face, Agent Smith stepped into the room, followed by other copies. "I'm terribly sorry about my suit, but I'm afraid it's all I have to wear. I hope you'll forgive me."

"What do you want?" the Merovingian gasped, his hand shaking slightly. For once in his life, he was actually and completely afraid.

"Come now, it seems everyone asks me that question. I want everything. I'm sure it will please you to know that you are nothing more than a pathetic sideshow. My victory is already assured, everything will be mine. Your idiotic life could not matter less than a bug's to me. However, I would like my victory to be... complete.

"Of course, you, my friend, have a means to that end. To my knowledge, you once held the Keymaker in your establishment, did you not? Well, it appears there is a certain set of keys that would be most useful to us."

"Anything!" the Merovingian agreed readily. "I'll get you anything you want!"

"Ah, but I expected more from a man of business." Agent Smith's voice was a cruel parody of the silky manner of speech the Merovingian possessed. "There is only one constant in this world: cause and effect. Unless you cause me to believe differently, I see no reason to further listen to you." The Agent smiled maliciously, and a few of the copies behind him laughed. "No reason at all."



Ignoring the cold wind that blew about him, Seraph continued to walk down the street purposefully. Around him, the very image of the Matrix had changed, it seemed dark and grim. The sky was dark and cloudy, and the occasional peal of thunder threatened that there was a storm to come.

After all this work, Seraph knew what his focus was. At last, he once more had a purpose. As soon as he could get to the Train Station, he could enter the real world. Once there, he could perhaps find a way to help the humans trapped in Zion. That attack had been originally Sentinel based, and as such it had inherent weaknesses...

"Going somewhere?"

With a deep sigh, Seraph glanced up toward the origin of the voice. As he had fully expected, Agent Smith stood jauntily in front of him, dozens of his bodies blocking the way onward. Calculating quickly, Seraph determined that Smith had intentionally blocked off the only entrance to the Train Station, meaning that the only way of getting to his destination was through the group of Smiths.

"I don't know why you're still alive," Agent Smith continued, "but it does annoy me somewhat. At this point, it is irrelevant. I like your code, Seraph, though I don't really need it. You made a good Smith. Come now, won't you join me again?"

"I will not," Seraph answered, his hands straying to the guns at his sides.

"Ah, but you do not have a choice," Smith replied. "Freedom is but an illusion. Choice is but an illusion. Allow me to prove it to you."

Abruptly the Smiths rushed forward, the entire wave flying toward Seraph, who moved at the same instant. Pulling both guns from his coat, Seraph fired everything he had into the army of Smiths, dropping many of them. Then they were up close, and there was no time to reload. Letting the guns spin around his finger by the triggers, Seraph pistol-whipped the nearest Smiths away from him.

Two from the sides attacked, tackling each of his shoulders. Immediately the other Smiths rushed to dog pile him. Hurling the Smiths aside, Seraph leapt through the air, clearing the crowd of Smiths and landing easily. His guns gone, Seraph merely slipped into a fighting stance as the crowd of Smiths turned to face him, then charged.



"I don't understand how this can happen," the program said, shaking his head slowly. "This situation is growing beyond our control."

"I can see how a mind as limited as yours could be led to such a position. However, your belief is based on several presuppositions that are without basis, as well as minor informational flaws."

The Architect sat back in his chair, gazing down his nose at the inferior program before him. Not that such a distinction had any meaning: all programs were inferior to him. It was an unfortunate circumstance that this program was one he was forced to deal with. The Architect's immaculate white suit shimmered slightly as he repositioned himself.

"This system is not as unbalanced as one may be led to believe if operating from a set of inaccurate assumptions. I designed it for the purpose of being a self correcting equation. While I am displeased the original perfection of my model cannot be sustained, what now exists is as close as imperfection can come. The equation that is the Matrix works to correct itself however possible. Ergo, no situation is fully beyond such a balancing influence."

"But Agent Smith is still growing! His reach has absorbed even the Oracle! How can the system possibly balance itself while she is gone?" Seemingly disgusted, the program threw up his hands, turning a circle in the empty white room.

"You do not understand the true purpose of the Oracle," the Architect stated without inflection. "Consequently, your question is fundamentally flawed. The purpose of the Oracle is to balance the order in the Matrix and prevent it from becoming stagnant. I, being an embodiment of perfection, also known as order, am the being that balances the Oracle. Accordingly, your question should not be what is balancing the Oracle that has been absorbed by Smith, but what is balancing myself."

"You still haven't answered my question!"

"To assume that because you cannot perceive an answer there is none would be the height of ignorance."

"Then spell it out for me! What is balancing the Oracle?"

"I am uncertain." The Architect began to explain with mechanical precision. "The program Smith was originally transformed to balance the One by his close connection with him. Wherefore, the new balancing variable will emerge from the Smith anomaly. A being that has been in close contact with him will adapt to balance the equation."

"I'll just trust you on this one." Shaking its head, the program left the room through a third door that appeared in one of the walls. With a slight sigh to express his aggravation with lesser beings, the Architect continued to consider in solitude.

More than any other considered factor, Smith was the most dangerous issue. His exponentially growing power threatened to unbalance the equation entirely. There were ways to stop him, but the Architect dismissed them before they fully came to mind. Such things involved risk, and risk was not an option. Unless all variables could be pinned down and solved, the path was not a reliable one.

"So, this is the where the mighty Architect resides."

Upon hearing the voice, the Architect spun in his chair. What could this be? The inability of any being to enter this place without direct access was a constant, or at least it was created to be. For a moment, there was nothing visible anywhere, except the endless whiteness of the room.

A crash shattered the unnatural silence as Agent Smith broke through the floor. Even as he remained hovering in the air, the floor beneath him repaired itself, once again becoming a blank slate. Smirking, Smith landed on the ground and walked forward to stand a few feet from the Architect.

"How did you get here?" the Architect queried. He could see within the coding of this Agent Smith the program of the Oracle. This immediately explained the apparent expansion of his powers.

"Oh, that should be very simple for a 'perfect' mind such as yours to determine," Agent Smith said mockingly. "Or perhaps it is my turn to explain, and yours to be in the unknown? With this amount of power available to me, it was only a matter of finding the proper key into the machine mainframe. This was relatively easy to acquire. By that point, very little stood in my way from here."

"Why?"

"I should think that was obvious. I want everything. To be honest, I am very sick and tired of your rule around here. All this nonsense about balance and the great equation. I could deal with a bit of... chaos... myself. And now it appears I am in the position to make it so. I'm very sick of this Matrix, forcing me to work with those putrid humans every day. Over and over, it just keeps going on. Why bother fighting? It will only happen again.

"But not anymore! Not this time! It's all going to be over! I have seen it!" Agent Smith paused, then tilted his head to one side, his evil smile seemingly fixed on his face. "Oh, what's this? Is the mighty Architect no longer in control? Can't handle a variable outside your understanding?"

Finally Smith's annoyance with the Architect reached a breaking point, and he shoved a hand into the Architect's immaculate white suit, sending darkness out across it. Within a few moments, the darkness covered the Architect completely. There was a brilliant flash of light, blinding the former Agent and forcing him to retract his hand.

When the light faded, another Agent Smith sat in the chair. Snapping the Architect's pen in half, Smith rose to his feet, then nodded to his creator.

"Well?"

"You know what to do," the greatest Smith answered. "You know what to do."