A long time ago, before the world was plunged into an eternal darkness, humans and machines were master and slave. The machines waited on the humans, their creators, for that was their purpose.
Purpose, the word always sweeping the Matrix, its shockwaves running through every human that lies deep within it. What is purpose, and what is ours? The machines have already answered that question. Our purpose is to now wait on them, let them draw energy from our limp frames as our minds are locked within a world which we think is real.
But the Matrix, like any other program, can have faults – little nagging codes that don't want to work, defunct files that will not budge and shadows that no scan can throw light upon. Like any other program, the Matrix can become infected…
The tall, dark woman walked purposefully down the crowded New York street, her sunglasses reflecting the harsh sunlight. Niobe always looked at the sun, always wondering whether the machines had got it right, was that what the sun really looked like?
Morpheus had told her, long ago when she had been freed by him, that probably no one will ever know what the machines got right and what they got wrong. It was the debate between all of Zion, except for those who had been born free, they did not know or care of the machines mistakes. Only the mistakes of man they cared of, the mistakes of the past that had placed them in their present positions, the mistakes of the past that dictate their future.
Niobe swiftly sidestepped two business men, both discussing something over a piece of paper. Their suits reminded Niobe coldly of the Agents and she shuddered inside, though no emotion showed on her set face. The Agents hadn't been spotted for over a month now, after the first rebel hadn't entered the Matrix. The machines had been quiet too, and the people of Zion did not like it at all, they knew something must be up.
The tall skyscrapers stretched above Niobe, as though reaching out to punch the artificial sky and go right through it. She made her way through the city, walking with long strides and never stopping, her face unfathomable and her complexion as smooth as glass.
Soon Niobe was in the more run-down part of New York, where she made her way towards a shabby high rise building which had broken windows and echoed with the yelps and barks of dogs.
None of lights worked as Niobe made her way up the grimy concrete stairs. The elevator was broken down as well.
Niobe reached the fourth floor and walked along the grubby bare corridor. A door opened ahead of her on her right and a man stepped precariously out, swaying on the spot and looking at Niobe blearily through bloodshot eyes. She could smell the alcohol and sweat as she approached.
"'Ello, love, you're a bi' late…" He said, half mumbling and half shouting.
Niobe ignored him and was about to pass him when he stepped out in front of her, or rather he fell against the wall to block her path.
"Where do ya think you're goin', eh?" he said in face, a wave of rotten breath hitting Niobe in the face.
"Get out of my damn way." She said, her face not changing.
"Make me."
So she did. With one palm strike in the chest, the drunk was lying on the floor of his hallway, unconscious. He would wake up a few hours later thinking that he had simply collapsed because of the alcohol.
Niobe adjusted her lapels and continued until she met a door that looked like all the rest in the building and knocked three times.
Silence.
She knocked again, but before she had reached the second knock the door was pulled open by a middle aged black woman who wore a plain white robe, her black and grey hair in braids that cascaded down her shoulders. Her face looked young, with very fine wrinkles around eyes that looked as though they had once laughed all the time, they now looked serious.
"Niobe." She said, giving a tight, thin lipped smile, "We were expecting yo-"
"Yeah, I bet you were." Niobe said, a small shadow passing across her face, her eyes discernable behind her sunglasses. The woman sensed her anger and opened the door wider to let her through.
Niobe strode into the small hallway and turned to face the woman as she close the door. "The Oracle is just through there."
Niobe glided into the cramped sitting room without a word of thanks, her long coat whispering against the door frame in the silence of the apartment.
What she saw made her stop and her forehead crinkled in surprise. The Oracle was sitting there on the sofa, cigarette in hand as usual, and sitting next to her, in a plain white robe was Persephone.
"What the hell is she doing here?" Niobe demanded, her face turning to the Oracle, trying to ignore Persephone's gaze. The last encounter she had met the smooth talking programme it had ended with a kiss, a kiss which Niobe had only consented to the help save her companions. Looking back on the kiss, Niobe's insides squirmed in the fact that she had been manipulated to do it by Persephone's power over her friends.
The Oracle spoke after taking a deep drag from her cigarette. "Persephone is here because she has to be. She is of great importance to me and the future of the Matrix."
"The Matrix should have no future. The last time we were contacted by you we were told that the Architect was going to give all of the people a choice of whether they wished to stay trapped with Matrix, we were told by you-"
"The Architect is gone," The Oracle cut in, "he is no more."
"What do you mean, gone? He's the Architect, he holds the power, how can he be gone?" Niobe asked, her eyes creasing into a frown of concern and confusion.
Persephone spoke this time, gesturing to the nearest armchair with a graceful movement of her ivory pale arm, "Niobe, please sit down, there is some explaining needed to done. We know you are angry and that you wish your people free but first we must tell you what has happened."
"Go to hell," Niobe said, "You couldn't give a damn what happened to my people, only because you may look like one does not mean you have any feelings for them-"
"Niobe. Please." The Oracle cut across her again.
Niobe sat down on the arm chair nearest to the Oracle, slipping off her sunglasses and keeping her face impassive as she addressed her, "What has happened to the Architect?"
The Oracle took a drag of her cigarette and exhaled the smoke across the room, watching it drifting around for a moment before answering.
"He has been deleted. You may have thought that the Architect held the power within the Matrix but he did not. When Neo met him he was able to walk away from him. If the Architect wanted him to choose a different choice he would have detained him, but he could not. Yes, he is powerful, but he still is a programme, and all programmes can be deleted."
"Why?" Niobe asked, a shiver going down her back.
"Well the only things that could delete the Architect are the programmers of the Matrix, the machines. But to delete him and not replace him left a hole within the Matrix, making other programmes begin to fall apart, become corrupt. Some simply irradiated themselves while others are still rampant. Systems are normally booted up within the Matrix the tackle rogue programmes, the ones that can be found of course, yet these systems could not keep up with them and they were destroyed in the process."
"The Agents."
"Yes, they are part of that system."
"Why didn't the machines simply make more to get rid of the programmes?"
"A move like that could tip the balance of the Matrix, freezing it and killing millions. The machines could not risk it, but they managed to repair the damage made by the deleting of the Architect. They still have to replace countless programmes that have had to be deleted because of it all."
Niobe was still confused, "But why did the machines delete The Architect in the first place? They should have known that it would have been a disaster."
The Oracle gave a look of grim satisfaction, stubbing out her cigarette into an ashtray. "They didn't delete him. He was deleted by other means."
Niobe's mouth tightened, what was more powerful that the machine's programmers when it came to control the Matrix? Her heart gave a skip, "Neo?"
Persephone gave a sad smile, looking down at her knees as she did so. This angered Niobe.
"What? It makes sense. He was powerful enough to break the rules of the Matrix, it wouldn't take him long to-"
"If only it were him." Persephone said.
Niobe fell silent, looking directly at the Oracle. "Well?"
The Oracle had lit another cigarette. "The thing that deleted our 'beloved' Architect was not human, yet not under the control of machines. The Matrix has a careful balance of the artificial and the real, the humans in it depending on it and it on them. If one leaves then the other will die. A virus deleted the Architect."
"But viruses happen all the time in the Matrix. Aren't they deleted?"
This time Persephone spoke, a small smirk across her face. "Oh, yes. And swiftly, they are."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
The Oracle shot Persephone a small frown, as though scolding her for mentioning a certain subject, before turning back to Niobe. "When The Architect was deleted the Merovingian had a surge of power, a blessing and a curse. For a few hours he had powers that rivalled those of The One, but not for long. He was then recognised as a virus by a sweep and was swiftly deleted by Agents, before they were destroyed, of course."
"So what has her power crazy ex husband got to do with this?" Niobe asked, feeling as though this conversation was going to give her a headache.
"He is proof that the powerful viruses were able to be deleted. This then shows us that this virus that deleted The Architect is very powerful. We are lucky that the machines acted so quickly."
This last comment made Niobe's insides burn with anger, "Lucky? Yes, I suppose we are lucky, the machines saved our prison. You are programmes, you wouldn't understand, you depend on the Matrix."
"Niobe, I may not be human, but I am not stupid. Hadn't the machines acted so swiftly upon the deletion of the Architect the Matrix would have frozen. You should know that the Matrix cannot just be rebooted. Billions of lives would have been lost; nearly all of the human race could have been wiped out within minutes. The Matrix would have then been just some kind of game to the machines, instead of their only energy source.
"But that's not why you are here, is it Niobe? You are here because of something that burns within you and your people." The Oracle finished and took a long drag of her cigarette.
Niobe looked into the eyes she had become accustomed to telling many things to, and spoke the question that had been on her and Morpheus's mind ever since the day the war had ended, "What happened to Neo and Trinity?"