After another gratifying and explosive session, Morgana laid in bed alongside Smith. Being as happy as she was, there was something within her that felt like something about him was incomplete. There he was, a handsome, intelligent, powerful man that appeared to be head over heels for her, but she felt that despite being with him for a month, there was quite a lot more to him underneath the surface—a surface that she barely appeared to have scratched.
Looking up at him and smiling as she laid on his chest, his warm arms wrapped around her, his blue eyes were so inviting, but his mind seemed to be impenetrable. She was always drawn to his mystery, but a tugging feeling in her gut caused her to feel slightly put off by it.
"Hmm, that was amazing ..." Smith sighed, closing his eyes. Feeling like he never wanted to let her go, he wondered what this was. Every time he looked at Morgana, it was as if all the hate inside him vanished. He felt lighter, freer, like all the problems in the Matrix didn't matter, and that he somehow found a home in her. Could this be ... love? He wondered.
No, it was impossible, he thought. He was a sentient program, a machine—how could he possibly even understand love?
"Smith, I have a few questions," asked Morgana.
This made Smith feel nervous. "Certainly," he said. "Ask away."
As Morgana sat in bed with some of the sheets wrapped around her, she asked, "You know, we've been seeing each other for about a month now, and I just keep wondering, wouldn't you be getting in trouble if the agency found out about us?"
"Indeed," Smith said. "I have given this a lot of thought myself, but I've come to the conclusion that work shouldn't interfere with my personal life. As far as you're concerned, we haven't encountered terrorist activity in quite some time now, so the case may be closed soon."
"So that's a good thing," said Morgana, and continued. "So, does that mean that we'll continue seeing each other?"
"I don't intend to put a stop to this, no," said Smith.
"Me neither," said Morgana. Because I love you, she thought.
"But Smith," she continued. "I'm not quite sure where this is heading ... Do you have any plans for the future?"
For as much of a planner Smith was, he'd never given it much thought. With the sudden birth of these emotions, all he knew was that he wanted her to be with him forever, but he hadn't conceived of any human plans to achieve that. After all, how could he? The other Agents would know, as well as the Mainframe. He had to keep this under wraps, no matter what.
"What do you mean?" He asked.
Morgana was surprised he didn't know, but remained gentle. "You know, about us. Smith, I ... I wouldn't want this to be just a passing fling, you know. I've always wanted to get married, get a house, have children ..."
Smith knew there was no way he could give her this without consequences on his end, and without keeping her completely plugged inside the Matrix. For some reason, the Resistance had stopped contacting Morgana, but he couldn't quite trust that they had given up.
"I ... would like those things too," he said, looking down. For once, he desired to be human, to be able to experience this without any repercussions, or façades to maintain. If love is what kept humans hooked to the Matrix, then he understood why so many refused to leave. But did he really mean it? He wasn't even sure he could have children. Sure, everything worked as it was supposed to, but Agents with reproductive capabilities? That was utterly and completely absurd and unheard of.
"So?" Asked Morgana. "I'm not trying to rush you into anything, but I've realized how much I still don't know about you. I've never even met your friends, or even been to your house. It's like there's this large world inside you that I'm still not part of, and I don't know what this means."
Right now, he prayed that either Agent Brown or Jones called him into work, as he was at a total loss for words. He hated himself in that moment for not thinking things through—how was he so foolish as to not have plans in order to answer these questions, or maintain the illusion?
Realizing he had no idea how to convincingly respond, he pretended to listen to something coming from his earpiece on the table next to him, and said, "Hold on, Morgana, I think I'm getting something."
Putting his earpiece in, he pretended like he was getting a request for backup.
"Agent Jones, are you alright?" He asked to an imaginary line, and then waited a little.
"I'll contact the rest for backup. 10-4, heading over," he said, and then turning to Morgana, who had a slight expression of disappointment, he said, "Forgive me, Morgana. There's been a situation I need to take care of. We'll discuss this later."
Morgana, trying to be supportive, said, "I understand. I'll see you later, then. Be safe."
As Agent Smith dressed quickly, efficiently, he left the room in less than a minute. Despite being strewn on the floor, his suit remained impeccably sharp on him, not a wrinkle in sight, as Morgana saw him exit.
How convenient, a voice inside nudged her.
No, don't be like that, she told herself. He has a job to do. He's literally on call all the time.
Sighing, she got up and started getting dressed again, preparing to go back home. Realizing that she was tired of being in this hotel all the time, as wonderful and luxurious as it was, she sought the comfort of home and her own bed. Perhaps she just needed to be alone with her thoughts for a while. A feeling of ennui crept over her, and she wondered if Smith was just wasting her time, or if she'd ever figure out just who he really was. It pained her to wonder, because she was truly in love with him, so she suppressed it, telling herself that she was making a much bigger deal out of it than she needed to.
A couple of days later, and Natasha had found it hard to sleep and relax with everything that had transpired. Even though the anger program was a great release, she still wanted to rip that Agent's head off, if it was even possible.
Over the course of her time on the Jupiter, she had been fortunate to encounter Smith only a handful of times, with each escape being riskier than the last. The other Agents were dangerous, of course, and difficult to escape from as it was, but Smith was the one that caused all the atheism to leave your body in hopes that a God out there would listen and miraculously save you from whatever you had coming. She was scared shitless, of course, that her plan would go wrong, and Smith was the last thing she ever saw, but there was no risk too great for her sister's freedom—she had freed countless minds already, who bore no relation to her. Trying was the least she could do.
"I'd say right now's your best time," said Marcus the following night. "I think there's trouble in paradise; Smith hasn't shown up at Morgana's in like two days."
"Do you think that she's starting to realize something?" Asked Natasha. "I know she's smarter than that."
"You're right," Marcus said. "She's starting to feel like things aren't adding up again."
"Then there's no time to waste," Natasha said, feeling herself getting pumped with adrenaline, stomach quivering, heart racing. She'd always been an adrenaline junkie, basking in the feeling, but this time, she was on her own with a greater potential to encounter real danger—Smith himself.
"Hey, before you go—" Marcus added. "Wait here."
Disappearing beyond the hall, he returned a few moments later, bringing in Jet and Orion, two of their crew mates, who had determined looks on their faces. Jet was a short, nimble blonde who was fast on her feet. Orion, in contrast, was a tall, muscle-bound Samoan who was gifted in combat and firepower.
"What are you guys doing here?" Natasha asked, looking at Marcus.
"Natasha, we know about your situation," said Jet. "My little brother was killed by Agents when I was serving on the Valkyrie three years ago. I wouldn't want you to experience the pain of losing your sister to the Machines, and lose one potential citizen of Zion."
Natasha, surprised that she was willing to help, almost teared up, and nodded.
"And as for me," said Orion. "I would follow you into battle any day of the week, Lieutenant."
Fighting back tears, Natasha smiled and said, "Are you two sure you wanna do this? Things could go very badly. Hell, this isn't even authorized by Ulrikson. If we're successful, we might not even hear the end of it, but if one of us gets hurt or dies ... I don't know. I can't have that happen to you on my watch."
"We can take care of ourselves," said Jet.
"I'd do the same in your shoes," said Orion.
After a moment of hesitation, Natasha, feeling galvanized by her teammate's resolves, nodded and said, "Alright—to your stations; we have no time to lose."
Programming their computers, they selected what they wanted and needed, while Marcus worked the operating deck.
"Can you tell me where Smith is?" Asked Natasha.
"It looks like he's busy with the other Agents," Marcus replied, focusing on the screen. "He's chasing down some other rebels on the other side of town."
"Perfect, so that gives us enough of a delay," said Natasha.
Just before all of them were jacked in, Marcus stopped by Natasha and said, "Be careful."
Natasha, giving him a nod, stared right ahead and closed her eyes as soon as the jack went in. Hearing the last few tapping sounds of Marcus' keyboard, everything went black, before they appeared in the Matrix.
Morgana, feeling restless, laid down on the sofa, thinking about Smith.
He's probably on one of his long missions, she thought. I wonder if I've scared him away, or said something I wasn't supposed to ... He's so sincere, though; I feel his love for me as clear as the fucking sun, so I just don't get why it feels so weird ...
Hearing a knock at the door, she immediately thought of Smith. Opening the door without thinking twice, she gasped and froze, bringing her hand to her mouth. With eyes wide open, she could scarcely believe that Natasha was standing there, right in front of her.
No, no, I must be going insane, she thought, and shut the door behind her.
"Morgana, it's me!" Natasha said, loud enough to hear. "You're not crazy, I'm right here!"
Even though her worried thoughts were looming, she was won over by instinct, and opened the door, embracing Natasha. Hugging her back, Natasha, with tears in her eyes, exclaimed, "Oh god, I missed you!"
"I missed you, too!" Cried Morgana, tears swelling up in her own eyes. "Where have you been all this time? Did you escape? What about the cult?"
Pulling away, Natasha said, "There is no cult, nor terrorists. Smith is lying to you; he's trying to control you so that you ignore the truth that you feel inside you—the truth that's telling you he's not what he seems, and that this world is wrong, all wrong."
"How do you know all this?" Asked Morgana.
"Because that's exactly how I felt before I left, and because Smith is a killer," Natasha said.
"What do you mean?" Morgana asked, her eyes wide in confusion. Natasha beckoned to come inside, and Morgana obliged, letting her in.
"He kills everyone that knows a shred of truth about this world," she said. "I'm surprised that he hasn't killed you yet. But he's still manipulating you, he's using you to make you think that I'm some crazy lunatic who's been stalking you through some cult."
"So it was you?" Morgana asked. "You were sending those letters and talking to me?"
"Yes, me and my crew mates were, yes," said Natasha. "We've been looking out for you, not trying to harm you, as Smith wants you to believe. Don't you feel like there's something very wrong in all of this? About Smith? About the world?"
"I've been trying to push it aside, because I was scared, but yes, I do," said Morgana. "I've been feeling this way for a long time now; I can't quite put my finger on it. Every time I've asked Smith what the Matrix is, he doesn't tell me."
"That's because he doesn't want you to know," Natasha said. "He's manipulating you, Morgana, and you're in so much danger by just being with him; we have to go."
"Wait, where are we going?" Asked Morgana, a seed of doubt in her mind.
"I can't really tell you what the Matrix is," said Natasha. "You have to see it for yourself."
"Wait, but, aren't you a schizophrenic?" Asked Morgana.
"I was misdiagnosed, Morgana," said Natasha, point-blank. "It's something Smith is using to discredit me."
"Fuck," said Morgana, feeling like her world was spinning. "So Smith really lied to me ..."
"Without question," said Natasha.
Inside the car, parked on the street outside Morgana's apartment, Orion got a call. Answering his cellphone, he heard Marcus in an alarmed voice say, "Agents are coming! Get out of there now!"
Orion, rolling down the passenger window, shouted out at Natasha as loud as he could, honking the car horn, "We have to go now! They're on their way!"
Without warning, Agent Smith kicked open the back door of Natasha's apartment, and was once again a terrifying sight to behold. Tall and looming, with his black sunglasses covering his eyes, he was fury incarnate as he raced towards Morgana, and shielded her, pulling his Desert Eagle out and pointing it at Natasha.
Natasha froze, hearing her heart pounding loudly in her chest, and though every muscle fiber and neuron in her body was primed for a fight, she thought better than to try to engage with an Agent at close range. Oh fuck, I'm gonna die, I'm gonna die, she thought.
"It won't work, Natasha," said Smith in a low growl. "So give it up!" Morgana, aghast with confusion, didn't know what or who to believe. Her eyes darting between Smith and Natasha; she had never seen Smith in action. The sight of him in killing mode filled her with trepidation.
"I know what you terrorists are trying to do, and I won't let you," snarled Smith. Being so close at having Morgana taken away from him, he knew that the other Agents would be arriving shortly to take care of Natasha and the rebel in the vehicle.
Natasha, being at a loss for words, put her hands up. Damnit! She thought. How was she going to escape from this situation?
"Stand back," Smith ordered Morgana. "Hide in that corner right there."
Morgana had no choice but to comply, filled with so much anxiety, she was dissociating. What was real anymore? She didn't want him to kill her sister, but he loved her, she thought, he was protecting her from the cult ...
When Orion failed to hear back from Natasha, and heard a loud noise coming from inside the apartment, he loaded up his gun. Through the front window, he could see Smith pointing his gun at a defenseless Natasha.
Aiming his gun at Smith through the glass, he began shooting, giving Natasha an opportunity to escape. Morgana screamed as the sounds of shattering glass and loud noises of the shots permeated the air, hearing bullets whizz by and exit through the back of the apartment, being avoided by Smith from all angles. As he moved with inhuman and impossible speed, distracted by dodging, Natasha sprang out the window, taking cover behind Orion, before turning to leave.
"Come on, Orion!" Natasha screamed, getting inside the car, seeing a vehicle full of Agents approaching from a few blocks away. Smith, with an indignant look on his face, began shooting in the direction of the fleeing male.
Orion, with his body and mind drowning in adrenaline, hightailed it to the car, shooting at Smith to deter him, and as he finally jumped inside, Natasha instantly floored it, the roar of the engine preceding the skidding of tires as they attempted to keep up with the aggressive rise of RPMs. Smith darted outside and continued shooting at the vehicle as it sped away, the sounds of bullets flying off metal piercing the night. A few moments later, the rest of the Agents arrived and got out the car, guns out.
"Get them!" Agent Smith shouted, commanding the rest of the Agents that had just gotten out of the car. "Get in the car and get them!"
With just enough time to spare, climbing up the stairs to their meetup spot, Natasha pulled out her phone and ringed Marcus. Picking up within the second, she yelled, "We need an exit! Now!"
As Orion and Natasha finally reached Jet, who had stayed behind as lookout, the phone in the room rang urgently, mimicking Marcus' anxious whispers on the other side.
Hearing the Agents storm the building, heavy footsteps pounding staircases, they hoped that there'd be enough time to leave. As the last ring called for Orion, he disappeared just before Agents slammed the door down, firing their guns at an empty room.