4

He was dreaming again. Unlike the last dream, he knew that he was dreaming this time. His vision was in tact once more, and the blind veil had once again been lifted from his eyes. But all he could see was hazy, as if he were walking through fog, and he could not feel his own body, as if he himself did not exist.

This time, the long, dank twisting corners of the dark corridor did not end at his Zion room, but in the crowded streets of Zion itself. All around him were swarming clusters of people, gliding past him like an ocean made up of mankind. They bustled by him, chattering excitedly to one another…their war was over…they were free at last. They had cause to celebrate…to celebrate their own humanity. Though none noticed him. To them, he was not there. They saw him in the same way that he felt his own presence. Unfeeling…empty…soulless. He did not exist.

He had never felt so lost before. He was stranded in a sea of faces he did not know…surrounded by people he did not recognise. He struggled to make his way between them, searching for a face he may know. Anyone…anyone at all. But he could not feel his legs when he moved, and it was as if he'd never taken that step at all.

He was frightened, as he could not move without the use of his own legs. Even if one of the thousands upon thousands of peoples had wanted to lash out at him…if they had been able to see him, he would not have been able to defend himself.

He was almost certain he was looking into the present time, for although the surrounding city was destroyed, the faces of the civilians were swelling with pride and exuberance. The human race had just won their first true victory, and made peace with the machines. For once in their lifetime, they truly could feel safe, and live without fear, doubt or worry.

It was upon gazing around his surroundings, with fear glistening in eyes that did not exist, that he saw her. That woman. He'd seen her before…in his dreams. He knew that cloud of dark hair, and those ringlets that framed her face, dancing and bouncing about her as she walked, glistening and glossy…so free and alive. He had seen that pale complexion of skin before, chalk white against the brightest glimmer of her purest red lips. Lips made from the petals of roses…the source of her overwhelming scent. He could smell again, but all he could smell was her, though her face appeared distant in the crowd.

He caught the glint in her eyes as she moved away through the crowd, joining the sea of humanity. He had never seen her eyes before, as she had been lost in sleep the last time he saw her. Now she was awake he noticed that they were blue, yet not the usual, dull blue he'd seen before many times. They were deeper…the colour of sapphire. They glowed whenever they caught the light, like her very pupils were made from diamonds…or opals, or some other rare stone, though her eyes themselves were the colour of the depths of the ocean. Even after one glance, he was certain that if he was to stare into the depths of her eyes for long enough, he would find himself lost in a sea. Not in the sea of humanity, as he was now, but in a real ocean…the kind many of the surrounding people had never seen before. The glistening perfection that could only be found in a computer generated world could be seen from within her eyes, and her pupils were rare stones, found in the depths of the sea itself.

Although he could no longer see her, he could still feel her. It was as if his body had been returned to him, and he was no longer a fragment of the imagination of his dream. He could almost taste her scent…that overwhelming scent of roses in summer, wet with morning's dew. He could hear the sound of her laughter. He had never heard her laugh before, but he knew that voice could only belong to her. It was light and carefree, just like the laughter of a child. It was as if she had not a care in the world. He remembered her voice from when she'd cried out his name in her sleep, the last time they had met within his dreams. He could feel her too. Her presence was near him, even if she had lost herself amongst the crowd…driving him mad, pushing him towards the limitations of insanity.

Now he could feel things again, he noticed that the use of his physical body had returned to him along with it. That laughter was ringing well above the chattering of the surrounding crowd, like the eerie presence of a ghostly figure. Soon it became the only audible sound, as it was for her scent. He found himself drawn to her, and began to push his way through the crowds of people, following her essence and bringing himself closer to her instinctively. The people still did not notice him, and he was still in inexistence to them. But he did not care about them anymore. She knew he was there…she could feel him with her, lost in that sea of unknown faces. And she was laughing at him…mocking him, purposely hiding from him in the hopes that it would further drive him insane. He knew then that she was cruel, vain, and unlike any other woman he had ever encountered before. She was evil…the child of the devil himself, luring him into the trap she'd set for him. He knew she was trying to tempt him, and to draw him to her. He also knew that it was working.

Each time he caught sight of her within the crowd - a wisp of her hair, or the glint in her eyes, he could feel himself lurch with a sense of inner excitement, only to be eradicated when she again moved away, and was lost once more. Then he would hear the mocking sound of her childish laughter, and cry out in aggravation. No matter how he would try, he could never reach her…never escape the smell of roses.

Finally, she came to him, the fun and excitement of her juvenile game of hide-and-seek finally put to an end. She made her way to him through the sea of people, and he noticed the way she walked…with her own distinct flair and beauty…each step an essence of her pride, reflecting on her own sense of self satisfaction and vanity. Her eyes were wide with cruel delight as she coaxed her head to one side. Her lashes were long and dark, each eyelash in perfect alignment. Her lips were wet, bright against the porcelain of her soft skin. Even after she stopped in front of him, the dark coils of her ringlets bounced around her head. She was like a china doll. A doll that had been carved by the hands of a demon.

"I'm on fire, Neo…" She whispered to him. He could feel her breath upon him…warm and tingling…sending shivers down his spine. It was that same, childish voice. An evil voice. He began to shake his head firmly…violently. He wished she would not talk to him. He wished he had not sought to find her.

"I'm burning, Neo." She continued. He wanted to run, but found that he was transfixed. Her voice was holding him its prisoner. All he could do was shake his head in protest, although to this she paid no heed. "I'm burning from the inside, and it hurts. I can hardly breathe. You're the only one that can stop it, Neo. You're the only one…"

He opened his mouth as if to speak, but found that his lips had been frozen in place. He needed to leave. Each moment he stayed with her, he could feel that she was slowly tearing away at him. Something as simple as her right hand reaching out for him was like death for him. She had long fingers, white and pale like the rest of her body, and well cut nails that were long and sharp. He felt as if they were tearing into his skin.

She was laughing again. Nothing was sacred for her. She wasn't afraid of anything…nothing troubled her spirit. Her laughter was like a dagger being through at him, piercing through his chest. It launched at him like a sudden inburst of pain, sending him into oblivion…

He did not remember when he dream ended, though he did remember waking to find his body dripping with perspiration. His head felt heavy, and the aura of light that was his only source of vision was blurred…the light swimming around him in a mess of brilliant colour. Soon, his sense returned to him, and he was able to push away the last remnants of his dream, and come back into the Real World.

Trinity was sleeping soundly in the chair beside him, her soft and calmly breathing bringing him comfort. At least he knew that her dreams were peaceful, while his were plagued with thoughts and visions he'd rather never know again. To rid himself of his thoughts, he pushed them into the corners of his mind and stared into the undergrowth ahead of him…the old city sewers that had been reduced to nothing but rubble and waste, a useless pile of debris that was used only for the soul purpose as a tunnel for the ships to pass through, mostly undetected by the machines. Now the war was over, perhaps they may be rebuilt, and the humans could live upon the surface world again.

The Logos had been running on a steady course, moving in the direction of Zion for the many hours that he had wasted in sleep. He remembered now, as he came to collect his thoughts, that he had switched the ship to autopilot once he'd ensured they were on the path back to the last city of mankind. Their home…filled with familiar faces and warm greetings. The people would be celebrating…celebrating their own humanity, and their freedom. The others would be freed from the Matrix. The sky would be cleared, and peace would be made with the machines.

The creature was no longer resting on his shoulder, but had moved to the arm of the opposite chair, jabbering and screeching to him, while scuttling around him in an effort to keep himself preoccupied. He smiled blandly, moving from his chair to collect it and place it back on his shoulder once more. The beast screeched at him fondly, then nestled into the hollow between his neck and shoulder. He bent to search for Trinity's hand amongst the mounds of blankets enveloped tightly about her body. Her skin was still frozen. Still dead.

He came to stare for a moment on her closed eyelids…each feature of her face so different to the woman in his dreams. Her scent her own…original and unique only to her…something that was not in comparison to any other he had seen before. She was curled up tightly upon the chair, carried away by her slumber. She was ill, but for now she was at peace. He freed his fingers from her icy grasp and tucked her hand beneath the blankets once more, pushing back wisps of her ebony hair and planting a single kiss upon her forehead. She stirred, then settled again, a smile now creeping into the corners of her lips. Smiling too, he retreated to his seat.

They had reached the end of the sewers now, and passed through the official boarder into Zion itself, the gate looming ahead of them. The communicator had been repaired. He seized it, placing the tattered headpiece over his head.

"This is the Logos on approach, requesting access to Gate 4." He spoke as clearly as he could. He had never taken this task upon himself before, but had seen it done numerous times. He understood what to do, but could only hope that Zion control would answer his call.

There was only silence in reply. He sighed with exhaustion. Zion control had not repaired their communicator. He could not reach them. They would be stranded outside Zion for an eternity. All hope seemed gone from him, and he removed the communicator, ready to set it aside, when he heard the distant sounds of a scrambling, and replaced the communicator hurriedly.

"Logos? But…we heard…" It was a woman's voice. Young and naive…without experience. She would be no help to him, though she was his only hope. No one else would answer his call.

"What you may have heard is a lie. Look, my name is Neo. You've probably heard of me before-"

"Of course I have." Squeaked the girl. "You're the One."

"Yes, I need you to open Gate 4 for me. It's a matter of urgency. I have someone with me who…who is very sick."

"We can't open the gate." She answered apologetically.

"Why not?" He bellowed. The girl was trying his patience.

"Our engines and electricity were disabled during the war. It's a miracle your call even got through to us. We couldn't even see you approaching or - or anything."

"So there's no way to get in or out of Zion until you repair those stupid engines?"

"Yes. I'm terribly sorry." She murmured.

"Well…there must be a way!" He cried. He could hear her whimpering with fear, and was overcome with a sense of sympathy, instantly softening his tone. "Look, someone very important to me is very sick, and if I don't get her to a professional doctor soon, I think she's going to die. We need to get inside Zion as soon as possible, so I really do need you to open the gate."

"Sorry, but losing someone isn't news here. Nearly everyone has lost someone in the war, or is losing someone. The hospital is crowded, and there are hundreds of people standing outside wanting medical attention of their family and friends. Even if we somehow could get you through, there's no guarantee that-"

"Who are you talking to?" Interrupted a gruff voice from the distance. It was the voice of a man…someone he knew, though he could not decide who it did belong to.

"The Logos, Commander Locke." The girl squeaked. "Requesting access through Gate 4."

"The Logos?" Replied Locke.

"Yes. I told them it was impossible, Sir."

There was silence, then a scraping sound could be heard as Locke pulled the communicator from the girl with a sharp, inaudible command. He could hear her moving away into the distance.

"Last I heard this ship was at the command of one named Neo, and not its original captain." Locke finally said.

"Yeah, that's right. I'm Neo." He answered coldly. He had never been fond of Commander Locke.

"And you've returned from the machine city, alive?"

"Obviously." He replied sullenly. "I was the one who ended the war."

"How?"

"It will be explained to you later." He answered impatiently. "Right now, I need you to tell me how I can get inside Zion."

"Like she said, the gates are all down and unoperational. There is no access in or out of Zion with the acceptation of Gate 3."

"Gate 3?"

"It was broken during the war, and is now open for anyone's access. Though I do warn you, the entrance to the gate will be swarming with sentinels. Those bastards are using it as an exit to get back to Zion."

"They're still in the city."

"They're leaving through any available exit they can find. I'm warning you that you may have trouble getting back inside."

He did not care. The sentinels would not attack him now there was peace, and even if this was not so, he still would not care. It could be her only chance for survival. With the coming of each hour, it dawned upon him that it could be her last.

"How far is it to Gate 3?"

He could hear Locke sighing heavily amongst the static created from the almost broken communicator. "About half an hours travel from your current location."

"We'll make it."

"I'll have some men meet you there in half an hours time, then."

The communicator clicked, and then was silent. Not a sound could be heard within the shallowness of the cockpit. He did not like it. It reminded him of the inevitable dark corridor, and what had awaited him beyond.

"Inevitable." He found himself whispering the word aloud. He could see dark sunglasses, masking cold blue eyes…a deep, darkening voice…memories of one that was dead. "It is inevitable."

"What?" Whispered the quiet voice in the chair beside him. A voice that was thin and raspy…hardly stronger than it had been before. Sleep had not done her any good, other than to keep her peaceful and content…something that was never everlasting.

"Nothing." He whispered back. She was struggling to sit up, blinking up at him blearily. "Go back to sleep."

"Something's wrong…" She murmured meekly. She shifted, the blankets loosening and falling from her. She still wore his over-shirt, though now it was stained with her own blood. Her wounds had been bleeding, and the blood had seeped through the bandages, drenching the shirt a darkened red. Her forehead cringed into frown lines as she studied her wounds, her cool blue gaze flickering with pain.

"Don't worry." He stood from his seat and moved to her, tightening the blankets around her once more, hiding her blood beneath them. It hurt him to see them…he couldn't stand the stench of her blood. "We're nearly back at Zion. I'm going to take you straight to the hospital, and they're going to treat you better than I ever could."

"Will you stay with me?" She pleaded. There was something pitiful about the way she spoke…something so unlike her. It made him want to hold her, perhaps to bring the old Trinity back.

"I told you, I'm not going to leave you. Ever." He began to pull the blankets around her again, hoping that somehow it would warm her. "Are you still cold?"

"Yes." She breathed against his face. Even her breath felt icy on the surface of his skin. He did hold her, then, wrapping both his arms around her and pulling her fragile body towards him. It was still her body he held in his arms, and still her soul was there. He could feel it when she pressed against him, burying her head into his neck. But still there was something different…something not right. She felt so cold, and he hoped that somehow he may be able to warm her by keeping her held in his arms. But he could not hold her forever. They needed to return to Zion.

"Your eyes…" She whispered when he pulled away. She freed her hand from the blankets, and he knew that she ran it across the sash she'd tied around his eyes so long ago. He searched and found her hand, taking it in his own. "Will you ever be able to see again?"

"I-I don't know, Trin." He admitted the gruelling truth. "I can still see you now. I don't know why…but I can. Only, I can't see your colour. I can only see the light and energy your body gives off. It's the same with every object." He placed her hand back into the blankets, then ran his own down her right cheek. "I can't see your eyes…"

The creature on his shoulder jumped and landed on her lap, causing her to draw in a shuddering breath. She had not seen it, perched on his opposite shoulder. She still feared it could harm her.

"It's alright." He comforted. "It won't touch you. The ship wouldn't have been repaired if it wasn't for this creature."

"They repaired the ship?" He nodded. "Why?"

"To prove to me that they'd really made peace with us, I suppose. It was an act of friendship." He smiled. "Creature here decided it wanted to come to Zion with us."

She smiled now too, closing her eyes softly and relaxing back into a soft doze, the creature nestling amongst the blankets on her lap, guarding her as it could not sleep itself.

"I'll wake you up when we get there." He whispered, then returned to his seat, taking to the controls and steering the ship towards Gate 3.

The half hour came and went, and he had arrived before he knew it, only to see that Commander Locke's assumptions had been right. The entrance to the gate was crowded with swarms of sentinels, swooping and screeching to one another, tentacles propelling them through the air, their eyes slits of red fire, burning and ablaze with fury. They saw the ship, and simply ignored it, not attacking him, and yet not giving him the right of way. He remained still, watching them leave until he could wait no longer, and pushed his way through them, driving the ship to the gate. The sentinels moved aside just enough to allow him to pass and soon he had squeezed past them, and proceeded into the long awaited return to the last city of mankind.

The docks had been destroyed. The once proud dome that had housed the ships, and had been littered with the bustling of soldiers and workers alike was now littered with the bodies of the dead. Debris was everywhere, the walls cracked and chipped away, shredded to pieces by the wrath of the enemy. Still the sentinels were leaving, pushing their way through the destruction they had created, leaving behind the civilians to crawl up from the underground of the city and mourn for their dead. The people flocked the dock in swarms, searching the crumpled mess of what had once been part of their home to find those they had lost. They were not celebrating any longer, nor were they eagerly discussing the outcome of the war as he had seen in his dream. They were weeping, wallowing and crying, retrieving the mangled bodies of what had once been their family and friends.

It was the sea of humanity at its worst.

There was no place to land the ship, other than the broken, crumpled mess of what might have once been a circular dock. He drove the ship towards it, his raw palms producing sweat that stained the controls with the effort of the task. Never before had he docked a ship without any assistance.

The mourning people gazed up at him with tearstained faces, watching as the ship came to land, their faces set with expressions of perplexity and awe. The ship came to rest, and shuddered as it finally landed with a thud, crunching into the ruined dock and causing it to sink further into destruction. He did not care, as long as it would remain stable until Trinity had left the ship.

He moved back to her chair. She was already half awake, blinking groggily, eventually smiling when she saw him. His arms ached with the effort it took to lift her into his arms, his head swimming with pain and exhaustion. Creature leapt onto his shoulder, its long, spindly legs gripping into the fabric of his under-shirt. She felt light, reclining in his arms…like a child might feel as she clung to her parent, head pressed into his chest. Even so, he staggered, regaining his balance before he carried her down to the main deck, and to the main entrance to the ship.

As promised, three soldiers waited for him by the dock, standing solemnly with their hands clasped together in front of them, their dark eyes alight with mild surprise when they saw the woman that rested in his arms. He ignored them, uncaring of their opinion. Surely, they would know that she would never allow him to carry her this way if she were not sick. They appeared sick themselves, with slashes of blood across their face and wrists. These were meant to be those who had received the least injuries at battle.

"Listen, she's not well." He told them, reaching the base of the ramp of the ship and coming to their side. "I know the hospital is crowded, but do you think there could be any way of getting her to see someone? I…I don't know if she'll make it if she doesn't get some medical help soon."

"W-We could try." Replied the baffled leading solider. "I'm sure that they'll make room for her up there, for the sake of the One."

"Thank you." He smiled and began to move away to the hospital, but was immediately stoped by a hand on his shoulder, drawing him back.

"Sorry, Sir." Said the leading solider from behind him. "But I can't let you go with her. Not yet, anyway."

"Why not?" He scowled. Creature screeched from his shoulder, sending the soldiers into alarm.

"B-Because Commander Locke has requested that you report straight to the Council and himself to deliver an explanation to your actions in regards to ending the war, as you claim to have done single headedly." It sounded like a speech rehearsed by heart…perfected for the moment they would meet at the dock.

"I wasn't alone when I ended the war." He whispered, staring down at her. She lay, reclining in his arms, her eyes were open, though distant…as if her thoughts had carried her far away from where she was, her head still buried into his chest. He looked into the eyes of the soldiers again, as theirs lightened with sudden understanding. "Look, I need to…I need to be with her right now. Is there anyway I could report to Locke and the Council later?"

The solider firmly shook his head. "It's your duty to explain all that has happened, so we can understand how it has come that we have ended the war. We'll take care of her while you're gone. I can almost guarantee she'll have a hospital bed once I tell them she's related to you."

He hesitated, but nodded. There was no way of escape. He would need to brake his promise to her. She neither spoke nor moved as he placed her in the arms of the solider. He carried her away from him, held out from his embrace, as if he were afraid she'd lash out at him…like she would have done, if she'd been well. The solider remembered the old Trinity…he could not see that something had changed.

With one final glance, he left her, following two soldiers through the sea of humanity.

(o)

A/N: I haven't had time to edit this, so I apologize again for any spelling or grammar errors.

Thanks for reading, please review!

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