Disclaimer: I don't own any of the matrix.
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Smith found himself standing next to Seraph in a familiar hallway, in front of a door that he had been through before. That graffiti. The Oracle. This time he did not have his clones, he did not have his power, he did not have anything except who he was. That was the only thing that hadn't changed, he was no longer an Agent. He was no longer an Anomaly. He was no longer a program. No longer a sentient A.I.
Seraph looked at him, waiting for him to open the door, or at least go for the doorknob. Smith took a few small paces forward, and placed his hand on the doorknob. It was cold. It sent a shiver up his spine, and Smith growled at such a human reaction to sudden cold.
The door opened before him before he had a chance to open it himself. A little girl stood before him, on the other side. She smiled and ran away yelling;
"Oracle, he's here!."
She came back and took Smith's hand.
"Come on, Oracle is waiting for you!."
He felt himself being slightly pulled by this little girl, and allowed himself to walk through the door, with Seraph close behind him. He couldn't help but think that Seraph was watching his every move.
He entered the Kitchen, and the familiar scent of freshly baked cookies invaded his senses.
"Sit down." the Oracle said, sitting at her usual place at the table, a cigarette shakily in between two fingers and a mug of coffee beside the frail hand that lay on the table also.
Smith looked at her cautiously from behind his concealing glasses, and sat down without taking his gaze away from her.
"Take off your glasses." she said, taking a pull of her cigarette.
"Why?."
"Just do it, please. I'd like to see your eyes, I'd like to see into your soul, assuming you have one, of course."
He looked at her suspicously for a moment, then put his fingers on his glasses, slowly removed them, and placed them in the top pocket of his black suit.
"That's better. Now, let me ask you something. Why do you think the Architect has done this, why he's allowed you to live?."
"He has allowed me to live, but he has made me a virus. He obviously thinks that re-programming or defragmenting or a simple wiping of basic files isn't enough. He sees it as punishment for my actions."
"Bingo. He wants to teach you a lesson, he wants you to pay for what you did. But, I can see that you will not allow him to get the better of you. It's in your nature. That is why you are here. You want to live, you want help...you do not wish to die. Because there is no coming back for you if you die. So, you decided to ask for help from those you claimed to hate with every inch of your binary. Interesting choice."
"Yes. But, you have also made some....'interesting' choices, Oracle."
"Ah, yes. Haven't we all made interesting choices. That's what life's about isn't it, taking risks?. Making choices, that sometimes, we don't understand until we see why we made that choice. We've all made those, every one of us. Even your Agent friends. But this is irrelevant. Shadow told me that you would be coming here, and he told me of what you are asking from us. Or them, should I say. And I'm telling you now kiddo, that Locke isn't going to be kind. Far, far from it."
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Smith found himself standing next to Seraph in a familiar hallway, in front of a door that he had been through before. That graffiti. The Oracle. This time he did not have his clones, he did not have his power, he did not have anything except who he was. That was the only thing that hadn't changed, he was no longer an Agent. He was no longer an Anomaly. He was no longer a program. No longer a sentient A.I.
Seraph looked at him, waiting for him to open the door, or at least go for the doorknob. Smith took a few small paces forward, and placed his hand on the doorknob. It was cold. It sent a shiver up his spine, and Smith growled at such a human reaction to sudden cold.
The door opened before him before he had a chance to open it himself. A little girl stood before him, on the other side. She smiled and ran away yelling;
"Oracle, he's here!."
She came back and took Smith's hand.
"Come on, Oracle is waiting for you!."
He felt himself being slightly pulled by this little girl, and allowed himself to walk through the door, with Seraph close behind him. He couldn't help but think that Seraph was watching his every move.
He entered the Kitchen, and the familiar scent of freshly baked cookies invaded his senses.
"Sit down." the Oracle said, sitting at her usual place at the table, a cigarette shakily in between two fingers and a mug of coffee beside the frail hand that lay on the table also.
Smith looked at her cautiously from behind his concealing glasses, and sat down without taking his gaze away from her.
"Take off your glasses." she said, taking a pull of her cigarette.
"Why?."
"Just do it, please. I'd like to see your eyes, I'd like to see into your soul, assuming you have one, of course."
He looked at her suspicously for a moment, then put his fingers on his glasses, slowly removed them, and placed them in the top pocket of his black suit.
"That's better. Now, let me ask you something. Why do you think the Architect has done this, why he's allowed you to live?."
"He has allowed me to live, but he has made me a virus. He obviously thinks that re-programming or defragmenting or a simple wiping of basic files isn't enough. He sees it as punishment for my actions."
"Bingo. He wants to teach you a lesson, he wants you to pay for what you did. But, I can see that you will not allow him to get the better of you. It's in your nature. That is why you are here. You want to live, you want help...you do not wish to die. Because there is no coming back for you if you die. So, you decided to ask for help from those you claimed to hate with every inch of your binary. Interesting choice."
"Yes. But, you have also made some....'interesting' choices, Oracle."
"Ah, yes. Haven't we all made interesting choices. That's what life's about isn't it, taking risks?. Making choices, that sometimes, we don't understand until we see why we made that choice. We've all made those, every one of us. Even your Agent friends. But this is irrelevant. Shadow told me that you would be coming here, and he told me of what you are asking from us. Or them, should I say. And I'm telling you now kiddo, that Locke isn't going to be kind. Far, far from it."