Disclaimer: I own none of the matrix.
He had no idea where he was, this area was strange. A strange name came to him; the area of contraband.
Yes, that was right. The area of contraband. The isle of lost souls. Whatever you called it, it looked like what it was to Smith;
A place where all Exiles can go.
And that was what he was now, a worthless, hunted Exile Virus.
He sighed, and looked around at what surrounded him as he sat, cross legged on the ground.
Trees, tall and mighty, stretching up to a sky blotted with wisps of cloud. A river which was gushing and rumbling against the rocks. The mountains. This is where he was. He was nowhere.
He didn't even remember how he got here, when he tried to, he got nothing but scrambles of code in his mind. He didn't like it here, he didn't trust Angela any more, she had brought him to this place, this place of nothingness.
Where else would you have gone?. A voice asked him in his mind.
That was true. Angela had saved him, he should be grateful, he owed her his life. But he could not help but feel angry, angry that he had been reduced to this quivering, weak thing who's name used to strike fear, but now meant nothing. Now Smith did not mean leader, now Smith did not mean a force to be reckoned with, Smith no longer meant death. The Angel of Death is what he had been back then, he had delivered many a death, swift and merciless, but now he was wingless. Even the Angel of Death needed his wings.
A bird cawed loudly in the air, and Smith wished for his Desert Eagle. He pictured it vividly inside his mind, aiming upwards towards that false, gleaming sun, and firing, killing the miserable being and watching it plummet. He smiled, but there was no real happiness there.
A harsh, crisp wind blew and Smith shivered. For the first time Smith realized he was alone here. The scenery he could see stretched for miles, but he could not see her.
He was suddenly very afraid; paranoia ruled the roost inside his mind. What if it was a trap?. What if she tricked me, and lead me to this nowhere place, just so I could be ambushed by thousands of Rebels while I sit here, cross legged and defenceless?.
A rustling came from behind him, his heart leaped into his throat, and he was almost certain he would see Shadow or someone standing behind him with a gun, that crazy look in his eye.
What it was, was a little girl.
Smith almost fainted with relief, and regarded then girl with curious eyes.
"Who are you?." She asked, sounding older than she looked.
"I am Smith. Who are you?. What is this place?."
"This place is nowhere you should be, evil is not welcome here."
"Evil?. I bring no evil, child."
"Then why do you look like them, the bad men?. You have their suit, you even look like them a bit, and the only thing missing is the ear piece and the glasses out of your pocket and onto your face."
Smith was shocked. The Agents had chased this girl?. To the new Smith, who accepted his humanity reluctantly, and tried to analyse his new emotions, thought this was cold. The old Smith, who was still there, buried inside his mind, told him that it was their line of duty, and that he would've done the same if the Mainframe asked it of him.
"I used to one of them, but I'm not one of them any more. I betrayed them, so I am Exiled."
The girl said nothing for a while; she just stood there regarding him with her suspicious eyes.
"Prove it." She said stubbornly, her eyes narrowing to slits.
"And how would I do that?." He asked, but the little girl never got to answer, a voice called strongly and interrupted any response.
"Amber!." The voice called. "Leave him alone!."
She took one more suspicious look at Smith, before running to the woman.
Smith turned to see Angela. The paranoia, which had been almost engulfing, retreated with its tail in between its legs.
"Sorry about her." Angela said, holding the girl with one arm.
"What is this place?." He asked, his eyes frightened.
"Let me show you." The girl said.