Disclaimer: If you recognize it, it's not mine.

Chapter 15

"Why are we here again?" Olivia asked as the three moved cautiously through the crowds.

Michael turned back to her, still parting the masses to make way for the girls. "I told him I'd show. I mean I don't really believe in this crap. Actually I just don't care one way or the other, but he's a friend and it's his first time speaking. You know moral support and all." They continued on until he bumped into another young man who turned and smiled. He was tall, blond, thin but muscular, and possessed within his light eyes a sort of joy and charisma seldom seen in these harsh times. In short he seemed the exact opposite of Michael, a boy who had spent all of adolescence trying to overcome his awkward gait and crooked smile. Luckily, for reasons unbeknownst to him Olivia liked his gawky look and goofy sense of humor.

"Hey, you made it," he said as the two shook hands. The blond moved in closer and said softly in his ear, "thanks."

Michael pulled Olivia next to him, holding her close and began to introduce everyone. "This is Styx," he said of his friend. "And this is Nysa, and my Livi."

"Your Livi?" she said, smiling. "Hi."

"I've heard a lot about you. Really, Michael can't shut up about how wonderful you are…all of which I'm sure is true. We got a few minutes, if you guys want to come around back, it's a little quieter." He led the group further into the catacombs, beyond the crowds and into a small room used as an apartment by some of the first settlers of Zion. Only one other person was in the room, a man called King, whose real name was never uttered by any within the movement for fear that his true identity would be exposed and either the military or the Liberators would find him. He was, for all intents and purposes, the leader of the New Resistance. As the four entered, Styx nodded a hello in King's direction. He returned the sentiment before going back to his reading.

"Styx, huh?" He turned to see Nysa looking at him with inquisitive eyes.

"Don't like it? I thought long and hard about that name."

"Really?" Michael asked sincerely. "You told me you just happened to be studying about it when you were pulled out."

"I was. But it still means something."

"Death," Nysa interjected. "Death, hatred, vows and oaths so diabolical that even the gods were afraid to break them."

He looked at her closely, surprised. "You know Greek mythology? I didn't think they taught that here."

"They don't," she said matter-of-factly.

"Nysa doesn't participate in the same studies we do," Olivia added.

"Nope, the elders don't determine what I learn."

"Right, you go with your parents while they work. Veritable freedom fighters, eh?"

"They do their part."

"Just a shame it's the wrong part, fighting for the wrong side."

"And where would you be right now if not for them, and others like them? Still in the Matrix leading a pathetic and meaningless existence ignorant and devoid of any concept of true reality."

He laughed slightly and went on even as Livi and Michael sat silent and stunned. "That's true. I doubt they mean to further corrupt the system…"

"They don't corrupt the system," Nysa interrupted angrily. "The system itself is corrupt."

"So you do believe that what's being done is unjust? That the Council and the military and the Liberators are all wrong?"

"Not wrong, just unenlightened. They're doing what they think is best."

"To the detriment of the human race."

"Maybe."

"But since it's done with good intentions, it's all right?"

"Because it's done for a good reason, a righteous cause, it's forgivable."

He thought about that for a moment. It had been two years since he joined the New Resistance and since that time he had never truly questioned any of the groups motives. It was of course too dangerous to openly debate the subject with others, people outside the rebel ranks, so most of the discussions regarding the rebellion that he had been a part of involved little or no disagreement. This was far more enjoyable.

"You admit it's a corrupt path though? One that will only lead to havoc?"

"Who's to say? I can't see the future."

"Can't you? I thought that was in your blood."

"Excuse me?" Nysa's eyes narrowed. Speculation about her heritage had always been a sore spot with her. There were those who thought she might be special like Neo, almost divine, with the ability to see the future or manipulate time and space. Then there were those who felt she was merely a child, just another vapid human who received special treatment for no reason at all. And naturally others doubted she were even human at all, sent by the machines, a child never even meant to be born into this world but for the benefit of the enemy. All of them irked her precisely because none of them truly knew anything about her.

Styx of course did not know this, being no more aware of who she really was than any other person in their vast city. It was a joke, no more. He had assumed, especially after hearing so much about her from Michael via Olivia, that she was just like any other girl. Of course in the brief time that they already had together he could see that that was just as erroneous as his brief attempt at humor had been.

"I didn't…I mean, I didn't mean to offend you. Or…" he drifted, not knowing what to say next.

Michael, from across the table, began to laugh. "What's the matter, Styx, actually at a loss for words? That's a first."

He smirked bitterly at his friend. "All that I meant was, well I mean about what I was saying before…you said what they were doing was forgivable. A person only needs forgiveness if they did something wrong in the first place."

"A person only seeks forgiveness if they perform an act that is seen as wrong. Just because one person views it as a misdeed, doesn't mean it actually is."

"But you think it is."

"Think what is?"

"The act."

"What act?"

"The one…ones being performed by soldiers all over, including your parents."

"And mine," Olivia interjected. "Or at least my dad."

"You want me to say that I think my parents are wrong, that they're risking their lives for nothing?"

Styx leaned into her, so close she could almost feel his breath on her neck. "I want you to say what you feel," he uttered near her ear, the others barely able to make it out.

She looked at him closely, studied his face. He seemed sincere, trustworthy. She had not known many people, had not met enough either good or bad to be able to effectively tell the difference. Despite being well learned, despite thinking of herself as an adult, she really was just an innocent little girl when it came to things outside her own world. Yet somehow she knew he was genuine, could see and recognize that he had no intention of playing her, pitting her against her parents. Whatever his beliefs, whatever his motives, in that moment, looking into his bright blue eyes, she trusted him.

"They're tools. The Council would like to do right by us, might even think they are. But the truth is they can't see past their own desire to win, to stick it to the machines and destroy the Matrix. They refuse to compromise, and that's been the downfall for various peoples throughout all of human history."

"Like the Greeks. The supreme leader of all Greek culture, Athens, cut down by their inability to strike a balance with Sparta," Styx said, leaning back in his chair.

"For all their wisdom, all their philosophizing, they still weren't able to see that. It's the same here, now. The Council has this idea, this theory that if we have more people somehow we could defeat the machines whenever they do chose to attack."

"They just don't understand that by adding to our numbers we're actually increasing the odds of an attack happening sooner rather than later."

"Exactly. They're unable or unwilling to acknowledge that."

"That's why we're here. That's what we're trying to do," he said looking straight into her eyes, focusing on her as though she were the only other person in the room, perhaps even the world. "We need to make them see." His voice held such emotion, such determination that she found herself getting lost in it. "You know, you see." He sat upright a smile playing over his lips once again. "Nysa, you should help. You should join."

She laughed with a snort. Ridiculous, simply ridiculous. If her parents even knew she was here at this rebel rally they would kill her. Join? It was impossible. "I couldn't even if I wanted to."

"Why not? You seem to believe in our ideals. And, you're very well spoken, you know what you're talking about and you know how to say it. That's more than most of our members."

"I'm part of a crew…sort of anyway."

"You'd be surprised how many within our ranks are. You said it yourself, the military is just a tool, they rest under the thumb of the Council and are virtually forced to do their bidding."

"That's a little strong, don't you think. It's not that sinister."

"Isn't it?" He stood, preparing to leave. "The system is flawed. The Council, the military, the Temple, those institutions may be against us, but there are always people in every walk of life who manage to break free from the ignorance and oppression that surrounds us. I know, I'm one of them." He extended his hand to her and she hesitantly reached up and took hold. "So are you."