Mystic Kira: Although Neo may love Trinity, he also understands his duty to his people, as the One. So it was difficult for him to choose between going to see the Council, and then staying with Trinity. Although it is obvious which one he would prefer to do, he decided to go with what was the right thing to do not for himself, but for the benefit of his race by explaining his actions and not leaving everyone in the dark. Now that Trinity was in capable hands, he knew that there was no reason why he should delay his duty to the Council and Zion. Besides, as a writer, I needed to get him to the Council as soon as possible. Hopefully this chapter makes things clearer. Thank you so much for your opinion!

Kylewin: Heh heh…you raise and interesting point. I forgot about the whole blind thing towards the end there. You see, I wrote the entire last chapter in my mum's office while she was working, and I was pretty zoned out then and hardly thinking about what I was writing. A pretty lame excuse, but it's the only one I have. This blind thing is getting really annoying! Although I will try to fix things up now. Thanks for your review!

Thank you also to everyone else who reviewed the last chapter. Constructive criticism is always welcomed, as is any suggestions for ways I can improve my writing or a character. I want to get this as on-target as possible. I hope you enjoy the chapter!

5

The Council's chambers had been destroyed. Like everything else, they had been reduced to a pile of useless rubble and debris, a searing mound of metal that could no more be reused than it could be pieced together. Still, unlike other areas of the once proud-standing city, the wreckage gave off an air of belonging to something that was once a place of great importance…a place of eloquence and control.

The soldiers led him down the ruined, metallic corridors two strides ahead of him, continuously glancing at him over their shoulders, and he could read uncertainty and astonishment in their auras, as clearly as he could feel remnants of the brutality and savageness of the war that had been conquered mere hours before. Still a few stragglers who had been the last to learn of the end of the war crawled from the crevices and cracks of the underworld of the city where they had been hiding, bringing with them crying children and carrying the burden of the war on their shoulders. Their lost eyes poured into him as he passed them…eyes of sorrow, depression, and grief. They had been led astray by lost hopes. Like him, they had believed the end of the war to be a joyous thing. They had imagined celebration – a coming together in thanksgiving, reconciliation and inner peace – with images of dancing, drinking and love making…but the reality was starkly different. There was no cause to celebrate when they had lost so much. How could they be at peace, when this was no longer, and never would be, the city they had always known it to be? Eyes of men, women and children alike burned into his back as he drifted away from them, looking to him as their answer…their redemption. Surely, they must have thought, he would find cause for them to celebrate in such a time of oppression? But he was human too. He felt as soulless and empty as they did. He could bring them no answers, nor any way of finding the peace he had shaped for them. Not when he had lost as much as they had. Now he had fulfilled his prophecy, and brought an end to the war, his purpose was as unclear as theirs was. The future was no longer in his hands.

The soldiers' continuous glancing had grown as persistent as the gazes of the people, except that their eyes were not alive with sorrowful mourning. They were confused, and uncertain…almost untrusting….uneasy in his presence. He had forgotten, momentarily, that he was still a blind man, and unbeknownst to them had been using the aura of light that radiated from everything around him to guide him across the debris left in the trail of the war. They were not to know that he could see, even when a tattered fragment of cloth had been wrapped around his damaged eyes…eyes that were dry with the cracked, scabbed shell of blood.

The Council were in the temple, where many had taken refuge. Outside he could smell the foul stench of human remains, though inside was only the bitter taste of perspiration and fear. The people were shouting, clamoring and screeching, seeking shelter from the destruction the war had left behind. One man stood above them on a risen platform, perhaps dressed in what had once been the flowing robes of the Council. The light told him that he looked upon an elderly man…a face he had known before.

"Be patient, Zion! We know that many of you have lost homes in the war. Others may have lost family and friends, while others still seek to find relatives a place in a hospital bed. We understand, as you must, that this is indeed, not the end of our war. It is merely the beginning."

The crowd's clamor became a turbulent murmur of acknowledgement and perplexity. The old man went on. "There is still plenty to be done. We must seek to find the machine leader, and sign a treaty, declaring peace once and for all. We must rebuild our cities both above and below the earth. But most importantly, we must ensure the destruction of the Matrix, and that the rest of our people who still may live there will be found and brought into the Real World."

The crowd had stilled, and only a few hushed whispers echoed in the smooth, hollow caves of the temple. The very earth itself seemed to have become engrossed by the words of the elderly man. It was a controlled silence…a deathly silence. The old man had their attention, though he did not so soon give them his own. His eyes had traveled to the doorframe, his vision wandering past the soldiers. Then the old man's gaze locked on to Neo. In one silent expression of understanding, he felt as if the old man was pouring into his soul, digging beneath his skin and finding a link to the profound connection they had once shared. It was by a glance that the old man could determine what had happened, and how the war came to an end. It was then that he knew that the old man could only be Councilor Harman.

"For now, we must ensure the safety of each and every civilian", he continued. "Tonight, those who have lost their homes will take refuge in the temple, while those that have not will return to their homes. Tomorrow, every man and woman who is capable of work will assist in rebuilding our city, bigger and better than it ever was before. Until we can find a way of making more, there will be no fresh supplies of food. I urge everyone to ration their supplies wisely between themselves and their children. If we are ever to truly put an end to our struggle, and have the peace we humans have dreamed of for hundreds of years, we must do it together!"

A great cheer of approval rung out across the temple, and echoed into the ruined halls that lay beyond, the sound rebounding off the crumbling waste of the city. Harman stepped down from the platform, his essence of light then masked by the towering pillars of earth, steel and stone as he departed with the rest of the Council, signaling to the soldiers as he went.

He did not notice the soldiers beckoning him forward until the entire Council had disappeared, and the deathly silence had been replaced by the constant chattering of the crowds. A path was cleared between them as he was led through the vastness of the temple, filled with faces he barely recognized…faces he did not know. A sensation of paralyzed fear overcame him as he was reminded subtly of his dream.

He had never seen the temple in this way before. When he had last been here, the dirt floor had been transformed into mud, which sloshed up the sides of the garments of the youths who danced in the center of the space, celebrating their own humanity and what they hoped would soon be an end to their war. He remembered standing at the back…the smothered, clammy security of the place…the presence of many who were familiar to him, and of those who knew him not only by name, but by sight and appearance as well. She had been there, too. He remembered the way her hair would fall out freely and untamed across her delicate face, wisps of eyelashes framing the domineering blue eyes. He remembered the way her body had felt when he pressed it against his own…strong and free-spirited, each curve of her figure a reflection of her pride…so unlike she was now.

Now the temple he had known was gone. None danced or celebrated their salvation on the dirt floor. There was no physical expression of emotion. When he passed them, they only talked in hushed whispers between one another, glancing at him uncertainly. Many of them did not believe, though everyone in Zion knew him by name. He began to wish for a familiar face…perhaps for the reemergence of Harman, or the sudden appearance of another fellow believer…he did not want to be left alone.

There was a hidden room behind the risen platform which was seldom used, unless all other options had been forsaken. It was no more than a cave that had been blocked away from the main temple by the metallic barrier of a steel door. Beyond it, a table had been carved out from the stone, and nothing more. It was there that the Council waited for him, and demanded he tell them his story.

"Here he is. Our savior, the one who supposedly ended our war," said one. He was unsure if the Councilor spoke with sarcasm or not.

"Stand here, Neo." The Head Councilor gestured to the place directly in front of her. He moved to it swiftly, without the assistance of the soldiers, much to the Council's surprise, though none made comment that he was blind, and yet seeing.

"We're waiting on a few others to be found and brought to us before we can begin," explained another. "It should only be a few minutes."

The words had only parted from her lips, when the door was thrown open once more. The first to enter was Commander Locke, his lips twisted into a menacing scowl, the muscles of his dark face tightening around his eyes. He could see that the man's face was streaked with a fine line of red blood that was not his own, his clothes disheveled, and yet not tattered or torn. Locke was followed by a familiar, welcoming face. Another ally in a sea of distress. The warming face of his Captain…his friend…his brother, and his father. A rush of relief rushed over him, bound by the presence of two he knew he could trust. Harmann and Morpheus would believe him, no matter how ridiculous his story would sound.

"Now that everyone is here, we can begin." The Head Councilor cast a darkening glance over all that filled the room. "First of all, we must understand how you, Neo, came to know what you needed to do."

"I was told by the Oracle." He answered promptly.

"Why you were going into the Matrix when a war was at hand is beyond me. Nevertheless, we'll get to that later. What did the Oracle tell you?" Said another Councilor.

"With all due respect, Councilor, I'd like to point out that it was not Neo's fault that he found himself trapped in the Matrix on the eve of battle. He was lured in there when my ship was destroyed, as you already well know, when he took it upon himself to save us from an oncoming sentinel attack which we were defenseless from. Because of this, a program from the machine world known as the Merovingain was able to trap him inside a place which was not part of this world, or of the Matrix. It was a place that was in between both, controlled by a program known as the Trainman. He wouldn't have been saved from there if it weren't for my Second-in-Command, Trinity, who struck a…a deal with the Merovingain. Once we had managed to bring Neo back into the Matrix, he decided that he wished to see the Oracle before we were to return to the Real World."

"That's all very well, Captain Morpheus." The Head Councilor frowned. "You have told us this story before, when you returned to Zion with Captains Niobe, Roland and their crews. What we would like to know is, first of all, how was Neo able to separate his mind from his body without physically plugging himself into the Matrix?"

In the past, he had found that he was afraid to address the Council…driven by some childish fear of speaking to unknown peoples. But now things were different…he felt older, and experienced in the presence of the Council, and he did not fear them. He had addressed them so many times in the past, and now that he had fulfilled his purpose, and achieved what was he was meant to do, something as trivial as speaking to the Council seemed childish and idiotic in itself. He began to speak, but Morpheus intervened.

"Separating your mind from your body without assistance is possible, Councilor. If you remember, there was a kid we unplugged sometime ago, who managed to do just this. He was somehow able to unplug himself from the system. It is still not known how, though we can now be sure that it can be done."

Morpheus did not look at him, and although he knew that they were on the same side, he could not help but wonder why not. Perhaps his captain wished not to address him until they could be alone to speak. Whatever the reason, he decided not to be bothered by it.

"The Oracle told me that my power as the One stretched beyond the world of the Matrix, and that was why I was able to stop those sentinels from attacking, and why I was able to enter the virtual world without jacking in. As Morpheus said, it is possible to separate my mind from my body without assistance, as Kid had done. So this could also be a reason why I was able to jack in…I don't really know."

"Why should it matter anyway?" barked a harsh, male voice to his right. "Isn't the reason why we have gathered here to discuss how Neo was able to end the war? What does this have to do with anything?"

"Careful, Commander," warned Harmann. "Although these facts may seem irrelevant, it is important for us to understand everything that has happened. Though you do raise an interesting point. It doesn't matter how it happened. All that matters is that it did happen. Now Neo, will you care to explain how it came about that you ended the war once you had returned to the Real World, and you and Trinity took the Logos to the machine's city?"

"Well, once we arrived on the outskirts of 01, we were immediately attacked by sentinels." He made a point of keeping his eyes fixed on Harmann. It was easier to talk to a familiar, welcoming face. "Trinity and I flew the ship up over them, and then came hurtling back to the ground. We crashed into the side of the city, and Trinity……Trinity was instantly killed."

"That's not true!" interrupted a voice. It belonged to one of the soldiers who had led him into the room. "I-I saw Trinity just before, when we met you at the dock! She didn't look well…but she was definitely still alive. You even said so yourself."

"Quiet!" Harmann hushed. "I'm sure he'll get to explaining this later. Go on, Neo."

He didn't want to tell them anymore. He did not want to remember the brief period of time in which he'd had to live without her, let alone tell them about it. It was a time in his life which he wanted to forget…the memory only comforted by the fact that she was alive again now.

"I-I left Trinity's body in the ship and went into the city, where I met with their leader. Somehow…I-I knew what I needed to do to end the war when I arrived there. The Oracle hadn't told me what needed to be done…but somehow…somehow I just knew what to do, as if driven by instinct. I struck a deal with them…a pact."

"What kind of pact?" asked another Councilor.

"I told them that I could destroy the program Smith, who had by this time taken complete control of the Matrix. If I was able to do this, then they had to take their armies out of Zion and make peace with mankind once and for all. They were desperate to regain control of the Matrix, so they agreed. Obviously, I succeeded."

"But you said that your ship had crashed. How is it then possible that you were able to return to Zion?" asked the Head Councilor.

"It was because of this." He held out his hand, and Creature fell into his palm, gripping into his skin in support. It screeched, and many drew back in surprise, while others peered at him with interest. "I guess because we now had peace with the machines, they must have felt that they were inclined to assist me by sending these creatures to repair the ship. This one wanted to remain with me when the others retreated back into their city."

"It's not…harmful to anyone, is it?" asked a Councilor warily.

"Now we've made peace, none of the machines are dangerous to us anymore. Who knows? Maybe soon we'll be able to live on the surface world."

"Hang on there, Neo. Let's just take this one step at a time," said Harmann. "So what happened once the machines repaired your ship?"

"Well, before they'd even started, I went back to the cockpit and found Trinity. That's when I remembered that the Oracle told me that my powers as the One stretched beyond the world of the Matrix, so I thought that it may be possible for me to bring her back to life. I'd done it once before, so I figured that it was possible. But when she was alive again…something was different. She was sick. I flew the ship back to Zion by myself while she rested. When I arrived, I made sure she was taken straight to the hospital before I came here."

The Council was silent…not a sound penetrated the stillness of the room. He stared down at the dirt of the floor, pawing at the soil with the toe of his boot. Outside, he could hear the distant sounds of people, shouting…mourning…praying…crying. Now was not the time to celebrate. Maybe soon, once the death and destruction of war had worn away, then there would be the dancing, drinking and love making he had expected to find when he returned. But not now…not today.

"Neo, what happened to your eyes?" He found that the Head Councilor was peering at him from her seat.

A soldier nodded. "We noticed that while we were leading him in here, Councilor. He was able to walk without our assistance…as if he could see, even when there's obviously something wrong with his vision."

"While we were flying towards the machine city, we were ambushed by Bane, who was being possessed by Smith, who had somehow learnt to copy himself onto other files, including that of those who had been unplugged. I don't know for sure, but I can guess that Bane must have been attacked by Smith while he was inside the Matrix. Smith must have copied himself onto Bane. Once this happened, Bane himself became nonexistent, and Smith took over his entire being. So Bane, as Smith, must have returned to the Real World with the intentions of having me killed."

"Bane…" Harmann pondered. "Didn't he serve Captain Ballard?"

"That's right, Councilor," replied Morpheus.

"But wasn't Ballard's ship one that was sent to the mainlines to counterattack the oncoming machines just before the war began?" Locke waited until Morpheus had nodded in response. "But…but there were no survivors after that attack! I sent ships out there looking for them. They reported that they hadn't found anyone, so Bane must have been dead, along with the rest of his crew."

"Bane was the only survivor, Commander. After the machines broke through Zion's forces, they started digging again, leaving the bodies of the dead in their wake. Roland's crew made a pass to look for survivors, and found one alone."

"Bane snuck onto the Logos once Trinity and I had left the others behind, and started to attack us. During the fight, I learnt that it wasn't Bane inside that body anymore, but Smith instead. He was the one who must have triggered the EMP before the others could get in position, and so it was his fault that so many were killed. That's why he was the only survivor. I eventually managed to defeat him, but not before he had taken away my eyesight."

"Then how is it that you can still see?" asked the Head Councilor.

"I don't know…I…somehow I can see the light radiating off every object. It's like every object, alive or not, has its own individual source of light, and that's what I can see. Kind of like how I am able to see the code when I'm inside the Matrix."

"So what happens now?" said Locke, after a long, silent pause.

"Now I guess we'll take things one day at a time." Harmann sighed heavily. "Neo, I suggest you report straight to the hospital and get some proper medical attention for those eyes."

He smiled, "Thank you. I suppose tomorrow we'll start working on repairing Zion?"

"As soon as possible. We can't keep half the city's population in the temple forever," replied the Head Councilor, dismissing him with a wave of her hand. "Now get going, and take a soldier with you."

He nodded, too overwhelmed with exhaustion to remind them that he did not need escort. The walk from the small, hidden room at the back of the temple to the hospital seemed endless, and the relentless pounding of the tattered boots of the soldier behind him ripped through his concentration, disturbing his thoughts. By the time he arrived his head was throbbing, and his eyes stung from the dirt and the dust that had managed to slip by the ruined cloth that was still wound around them tightly.

He did not need the use of the light he used as his vision to tell him when he'd reached the hospital after the never-ending walk through the ruins of the city…past thousands upon thousands of whining children and devastated adults alike, all mourning for the death of the men and women who had fought at war. He could hear the cries of the crowds of civilians that flocked the street outside the entrance of the hospital, holding the wounded in their arms, screaming and shouting…wailing and weeping…seeking attention for those they had almost lost. He did not look at the mangled faces of the injured, or the tearstained cheeks of their families and friends, but pushed his way through them, keeping his vision locked on what lay ahead of him. The soldier behind him was mumbling…something about waiting until the crowd had moved, or at least trying to disguise his identify. He realized later that he should have listened, as it was not long before someone recognized him. Even with the crusted rim of dried blood around his eyes, they knew that he was the One. They began to shout at him, cry out his name…beg him to watch over the dead and the dying. He did not answer them, nor did he look at them. He knew that if he did, his heart would be filled with pity, and he would find himself at a loss. Not all could have the medical attention they deserved.

The nurses at the hospital entrance admitted him without hesitation, and he was beset with a scent of cleanliness, and of purity. Doctors and nurses alike rushed by him, carrying medical equipment and shouting to one another, their white robes streaked with human blood…eyes wide as if they'd set them on something unsightly. None paid him any heed, their minds focused on what was at hand. It wasn't until the soldier standing behind him tapped a nearby woman on the shoulder timidly, and she whirled around and regarded him, that his presence was felt.

"You'll be wanting to see a doctor, sir?" she asked him. He did not respond. Already he could feel that Trinity was there…somewhere in amongst the halls of dying patients, eyes stained with the pain of war. She was dying too…slowly…softly…painfully.

"Y-Yes," stuttered the soldier. "About his eyes."

"Of course." The nurse answered promptly. She took hold of his arm. "Let me show you to a bed. I can't guarantee that a doctor will be able to see you immediately, what with all the patients we are tending to now that the war is over. But I'm sure one will be with you soon. After all, you are the One."

He thought of the many thousands waiting outside the entrance to the hospital…the many that would never be given medical help, and would die in the crying arms of their loved ones. He thought of how he could see, even when blind, and that the pain in his eyes was nothing compared to the pain in his heart when he remembered the dying. He thought of how he was admitted to the hospital without question, as soon as his identity was known. He knew that it easily could have been he who was out there, crying with the rest…holding Trinity against him as she died.

"A woman was taken in here earlier," he suddenly heard himself say, startling the nurse. "She was very sick…she needed help. I sent her here with a soldier, and told him to make sure that she got treatment immediately-"

"Trinity." The nurse interrupted. "Yes, she got in all right. Once the soldier with her told us who you were, she was taken straight to a bed and a doctor was brought to her. I didn't see her after that, so I'm not sure what's happened to her since. I'm sure you'll see her soon enough. Once we've fixed you up, we'll take you straight to her."

"I really don't need help. There are plenty of people out there who could use the bed you're offering to me. I can wait a while before I get any medical attention. You may as well just not give the bed to me."

The nurse was stunned for a moment, but shortly recovered with a shake of her head. "You're the One, are you not?" He nodded slowly, before she continued. "Then of course we are going to make you our first priority! Think about it…the war wouldn't be over if it wasn't for you, or at least that's the general rumor that's been spreading throughout the city. I've never been a believer in the prophecy myself, but this changes everything, for both those who have always believed in you and those who haven't. We all owe you our lives now, believers or not. This is the least we can do."

"But…" He trailed away. There was no use arguing. And he knew that even if he were to give up his bed in hope that it could be useful to another, that it would only help one of the dying. There were many more out there who would still need help. And it would be help that they could never receive.

(o)

A/N: Yes, this story is very depressing, in a sense. And it probably will get worse before it gets better. Nevertheless, I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and please review!