Matrix: Immortals

Ya I couldn't help it! :D
I'm back folks and friends of the fanfics! I see things're pretty quiet lately so I hope I'm not too late-I'm gonna post what I can of this story I've painstakingly planned out. As promised earlier it takes place between M1 and 2 and ties in closely to them. Hopefully you guys'll like it: I'm not sure how many remember me from the old days. :D Disclaimer: These ideas are mine only, and definitely not W Bros-sanctioned!

Matrix: Immortals

The two men gasped for breath as they rushed up the stairs of the rundown building. The strain on their faces was clear as they scrambled for sanctuary from a gaining threat. They were dressed in their usual signatory suits, but these were ripped and stained in several parts from their hectic flight. Their ominous looking sunglasses were dusty and crooked too, but they were the last thing on their mind. The only thing they knew was that their one fear in the matrix, the seemingly inhuman and inescapable entity they had been fleeing from the past four months, was once again on their heels, and fast gaining. In the matrix, the two men possessed considerable powers, but they dimmed in comparison with the destructive force that pursued them. As they passed a lift lobby they barely took the time to register the bearded and blind old black man who sat on a couch facing the elevators in a relaxed but alert pose. He took the time to savor their flight, and seemed to track their movement effortlessly with his eyes, hidden behind blind mens' sunglasses...though they were definitely non-functional.
The two men rushed for a nearby fire exit they knew led to freedom. They had not heard any sign of their pursuer for awhile but they knew to pause was lethal. He-it-operated as part of a trio. The other two they could deal with quite confidently, but...

The heavy fire exit door slowly opened, emitting nary a sound. The two men struggled to halt themselves at the unexpected event, coming to a stop just meters away from the door...and almost falling over in shock at the sight beyond it.
The man standing in the bright sunlight was the very essence of their fear, their dread. The being they had been running from stood ominously and calmly at the entrance barring all possible attempts to slip past him, and almost mockingly regarded their shocked expressions. He looked different from before, but was unmistakable. His tall frame was dressed in a flowing coat that covered most of his body easily while leaving his pants exposed. Almost evil-looking sunglasses obscured his eyes and brow giving him an almost inhuman, expressionless look. He smiled, in a small way. Then he began to move, as the two men started retreating in response.
Neo entered the relative darkness of the corridor with confident, measured steps. He regarded his two foes one after the other, then spoke, in his usual low, husky voice.

"Hey there, fellas."

Agents Jones and Brown had to fight to contain their human looks of shock and fear. Their pale, scrawny frames looked even smaller in contrast to that of the man who stood before them; the man who only a short time ago was powerless against them. But things had changed, that fateful day. They had ambushed his kind, killed many of their disruptive ilk-even killed him!...yet he had risen from the dead. A totally impossible phenomenon, but he had, and what was worse he had destroyed their strongest companion in their trio: the Agent Smith. Since then the roles had been reversed.
The hunters were now the hunted.

They raised, in unison, their desert eagles and without word or warning fired. In response, Neo merely raised a palm, and like before their bullets slowed and stopped helplessly a short, even distance from him. With a gesture they dropped and rattled harmlessly on the floor, as their owners looked on dismally.
Jones and Brown looked at each other, and again without a word rushed Neo together, all thoughts of flight now abandoned. Neo did not react to it in the least; waiting till the last moment before whipping out a single hand with blinding speed to counter effortlessly their blows. They threw everything they had at him, but were completely pushed off balance in only seconds.
Without warning, Neo then thrust both of his palms, knife-like, into their chests. Immobilised by the sudden action, they could only look up at him in horror as cracks began forming throughout their virtual selves. Neo's face remained unreadable as he watched them spasmed helplessly against the destruction spreading throughout their forms. An instant later, they blew themselves apart simultaneously in a soundless, shockwave-less spray of matrix code, scattering and disappearing mysteriously into the distance. The walls seemed to ripple lazily through the corridor, returning to their normal still state as Neo inhaled and exhaled in one slow, deliberate effort.

Trinity and Morpheus turned the corner within seconds, straight on the heels of the agents. Their appearance had not changed much from before: she and her latex body suit, with combed back hair and a straight face hidden partially behind her shades that gave off a strength and ferocity in its hard lines. He, whose purple tie and dark suit complemented nicely with the large coat that seemed to hide any number of weapons in its bulk. His shades were mirrored unlike theirs, balanced neatly on the bridge of his nose alone. They accessed the situation swiftly and looked up at Neo's greeting.

"...We won't be seeing them any more."

Morpheus nodded, then looked about them. "Good. We have to continue upwards now, back to why we came here. The agents are not a good sign."
Trinity was to the point in agreement. "The lift's back this way. We have to hurry-the Oracle might be in great danger."
Cont'd.

I know it's a fast ending to a slow story but I promise it's just beginning...I hope I'll get a chance to add to it soon, but I gotta go sleep now. Enjoy fanboys! :D

very nice Macleod-different compared to your other fics, but still contains your masterful skill.

That is awesome. You gave the viewpoint of the Agents, on how they feel about Neo, and his abilities. They are horrified, and I am loving this so far. Who cares if it is too short, I mean, the awesomeness of it, totally wipes that away. I want more....
*Smith clones run in, and start chanting "More, more, more, more, more, more"*

wow just wow...

destined to be a classic, as always mac. I love this...completely different take...seeing Neo as the bad guy...awesome! I agree with Haxx...MORE...

How did I miss this! As always Mac, well done. What a talent you have, and it's always a pleasure to read your stuff. But now, I must apologise.......for joining in the Smith army- More, more, more, more, more, more, more, more.........................

Thanks guys-I hope the story'll be as good to you guys as it is to me when I thought it through. Continuing...

It was a different trio that approached the door to the Oracle's apartment. Neo had changed the most; gaining a confident posture and elegance in his movements. He looked taller now in his robe-like coat, as though he had grown several centimeters since last he came. It was as if being the One changed his entire self-image and confidence, allowing him to take on a larger-than-life impression. He had grown, both in maturity and strength: it was a welcome change.
Trinity hadn't changed much. She was still the same no-nonsense, tough-as-nails 'superwoman' that she had always been, the sort that looked like they could walk along the walls...which incidentally, she could. There was a slight difference in her aura however. She had a more serious, somber expression on her face now that spoke volumes of her maturity. It was as though her natural pragmatism and strength of spirit was reinforced and made complete by one last piece to her soul: her love for Neo. It was a much calmer woman who now stood before the door.
Morpheus however was different. He had changed little, yet much in the past few months; growing in his already-phenomenal faith in his beliefs; particularly about the One. This faith had led to him growing much stronger within the matrix; for what was the only true strength in it but one of the mind? His sharpened leadership skills were infused with this faith to create the considerable influence he could exert to free the large number of people they had, recently. This was a man who held his head up high as he beheld the entrance to her domain, the door they had all passed under sometime in their lives.

It was Trinity who opened the door, but Neo who knew, without seeing, what lay beyond. Even as Trinity gasped and Morpheus started forward, he had already expected something like this to happen.
The apartment was completely vacated. All the pictures, the beads under the wall-arches, the television and tables and chairs and their occupying children-everything was gone. A void lay almost mockingly in front of them. And Neo knew. How she did it, how she had moved everything away and chosen the time to do it, these didn't matter. What mattered was that she was gone. The look on both their faces.
Morpheus circled the living room, in a state of subdued shock. His head whipped round from corner to corner, as though expecting an illusion to end. Trinity stood at the door and looked up at Neo's calm expression as he entered. Morpheus whispered, disbelieving.
"There's got to be a mistake. This isn't her apartment-"
"It is, Morpheus. She's just...not here any more." Trinity was shocked herself.
He whipped his head up. "No. The Oracle can't possibly leave, not like this. Not when we need her advice. She's always been here. Always."
Neo had entered the kitchen, neatly remembering the beads that once hung over the entrance. He hated ducking beneath them, knowing that they humbled unconsciously before the Oracle everyone who passed through it. His movement attracted their attention, and they looked on as though expecting something...an explanation perhaps? But he had none. His eye caught the corner of the wall above the kitchen's archway where the latin sign he was introduced to earlier once hung, and stared silently at the visible colour change that marked its position.

Temet Noscre. "Know Thyself."

He turned, and looked back around the kitchen. "...It's her place, alright..." Then he paused.
Sensing something, Trinity went forward, and followed his gaze. Apparently something still remained; a cookie, sitting neatly at the rough position where the Oracle had sat so long ago; waiting for her cookies to bake. "Neo...?"
Neo went forward, as Morpheus approached Trinity. She looked back at her captain and his growing smile. "He knew." It was all he needed to say. Neo picked it up, looking it over in the puzzled gaze of his companions. Then with an abrupt movement, he crumbled it. His companions frowned at the action, but their brows were quickly raised at what was left on his hand once the crumbs had fallen away.

A Message.


"...Y'know, knowing who we deal with, somehow I expected this."
Tank's brow was furrowed heavily as he hunched rather grouchily on his Operator's chair. "I mean, does she ever get to the point? '...The deaths of two Immortals will trigger the Beginning of the End. Look to the matrix within the matrix for what to do.' What the hell does this all mean?!"
The four standing in various postures around him were in similar moods. Trinity looked tired. Morpheus looked like he was on the verge of something big and couldn't wait to see it. Neo was looking blankly back at the Operator. And Link; he looked...busy. It wasn't easy being the newest man around and the only one who knew maintenance as well as he could. And it was clear the Nebeccanezzar had a need for lots of it.

Tank wasn't getting any responses, and he knew it. They'd come to him for the answers; knowing how savvy he was and needed to be to be an Operator. So he just sighed. "Right. Firstly, how do Immortals die? Immortal what; gods?"
Link was the first to respond; struggling as he was with a heavy cable. "Well, I heard of this TV program they're showing in the matrix about Immortal people running around with swords..."
Four looks silenced the thought. As he went back to trying to look engrossed, Morpheus had an idea. "What if...what if they're clues to names? Either to programs in the matrix or certain people we know?"
Tank looked thoughtful on that. "It might help. The search'll be hell though, just the names we have back in Zion'll take-"
"-No." They turned to regard Neo, who strangely looked more like his old timid, hunched self when he was in the real world. He looked at each of them with that cherubic expression, then continued. "...The matrix within the matrix. They have to be in the matrix. Zion isn't where we have to look."
"...Right. So that leaves a whole world left to search. Which brings me to our next mystery? M...I...A...M?" He struggled a little to form the abbreviation, then looked a little proud at doing so.
Trinity was next. "...It could be...there's this chatroom...a forum of sorts. I've looking into it for sometime. It was formed by someone who knew the world was false. We homed in on it and freed him, but the chatroom and his ideas remain. We've been using it to help keep tabs on potentials."
Morpheus raised a finger from his chin to ask a question. "...What's its name?"

She smiled a little. "Strangely enough. 'The Matrix'."

Brows were lifted almost immediately as well as the general atmosphere. Even Link paused to look at them and shake a head at legends proving themselves before his eyes. Neo chuckled softly, whispering a little disbelievingly to himself.
"...Matrix in a Matrix..."

The game was afoot. The next few days were going to be different.
Continued.

There we go-hope it looks better. I actually added some stuff here last-minute but it looks fine to me still...enjoy! :)

LMFAO!!!!!
"Well, I heard of this TV program they're showing in the matrix about Immortal people running around with swords..." LMAO...gee, I wonder what show THAT could be? LMAO!!

..."Which brings me to our next mystery? M...I...A...M?" He struggled a little to form the abbreviation, then looked a little proud at doing so.

LMAO...I never would've thought to have Neo come up with the MIAM theory...that's too funny!
That's great! I love it...as always, a work of genius, Mac. Continue!!

It really is, Mac :) And I love the reference to the 'people with splinters' forum! Is that what I think it is? And to have Trinity monitoring it? Great stuff!
What a great idea for a story btw- all this detail and inside knowledge- very imaginative, I love it! :)

very very cool Mac! still keeping us ready for more!

Thanks guys. I didn't intend for this to be funny though, but Link was in the matrix movies as a lighter side so I thought I'd use him as such. Hmm. :) Continuing...

It was quiet back at the hotel. There was no one checked in, no activity...the building was as deserted as it had always been. On the third floor, the bloodstains on the wall facing room 101 were still there, four months old and decayed. The phone in the room itself was long gone, vacated by the people who had used it. It was quiet and dusty, the way it always had been, and it looked like with the few people who used it gone, it was the way it was going to be for a long time.

But change was in the air.

A chill wind arose from nowhere. Stray papers and a cloud of dust began to dance in the air from the minor storm that had formed in the narrow corridor, unseen and unheard. Time seemed to shift; the papers whirled, disappeared, then appeared where they had been an instant later to continue whirling-then disappeared again, as the rules of the matrix were bent and twisted like putty in the chaos of the noiseless phenomenon.
Out of nowhere green pieces of code emerged, joining in the mix. As they whirled, more of them appeared and began to drift like the others into the center of the whirlwind. They joined as one singular entity and was lost in the dust and debris...then in one violent, soundless explosion everything was thrown outward, to leave a small radius of the corridor completely clean and stripped of all loose objects.
In the exact center of this circle stood one man. He had a rather unremarkable set of clothes on; a simple grey suit and tie with complementing shirt and pants. He had a distinctively high forehead and a tuft of hair that marked the top of it, as well as strongly defined brows and large piercing eyes that surveyed the surroundings as the familiarity of it dawned on him. His mouth curled back in a cruel grimace as he straightened and dusted his strangely unkempt clothes off. He blinked, felt a disturbance in his coat, and pulled out a battered pair of squarish sunglasses.
Then it hit him, as he stared at it: the reason why he had returned. The man who had caused him agony for the only time in his existance: the man who had humiliated him, had defeated him once...but worst of all...he had taken away the most important thing to him: a program.
His Purpose.
With that his grimace grew wider into an expression of pure hatred. With a thought the lines of the sunglasses mysteriously melted and reshaped themselves, developing a more mirrored and longer look that resembled the insect-like sunglasses his nemesis wore. His clothes took on a darker hue, his tie becoming narrower as he buttoned his normally loose coat. He paused, surveyed his new look, but his expression didn't change. He slipped his new sunglasses on...and was reminded by that sensation of something else. He reached to his right ear and paused, almost surprised at what he touched. A slight pull and it was in his hand, brought forward into the light for him to see.
A earpiece, now non-functional.
He thought for a moment, then slipped it into his coat. Already the lack of it plugging his ear was a refreshing sensation, and it signaled what was only beginning in new existance. He smiled a little, for the first time, as he thought on the new possibilities. Perhaps the lack of purpose for now wasn't so bad after all.
With that, the Agent Smith-or Smith, as would be the appropriate name now, stalked off toward the elevator, two words on his lips.

"...Mr Anderson..."

The old man chuckled to himself as he listened to the radio's humorous channel. The night was quiet enough to expect another lonely vigil: it was not as if anyone would be looking for what he used to guard. He chuckled again, but bitterly: this time it wasn't because of the channel. He was useless now, only a blind old man with no skills to speak of. An obsolete program once, and even after finding purpose with her, an obsolete program now. But he still had a use: still had some skills...
...Some of which screamed at him now as he sensed somehow the approaching presence. He looked up as a man opened the entrance to his life lobby, seeing somehow the medium-built man who calmly surveyed the place. His face was grave as he stood and regarded the new visitor. He in turn looked around to regard the old black man. The newcomer spoke first.
"...I'm looking for the Oracle." His voice was sonorous and deceptively monotone; the low, menacing undertone unmistakable.
"...She said ye'd come. She...left a message, t' give yah..." He cleared his long unused throat.
Smith merely cocked his head to the side, and began to walk toward him.
"She...she says...she's been expectin' yah. She's long gone, 'an she says to give up: she 'kin see yer comin' a loooong way off!..." Then he started to laugh, as if mocking him.
Smith could see the man laid out in code before him. He recognised the outdated program which stood before him yet...there was a feeling to do something; something that felt...right, to do. He tilted his head to the side, and then spoke.
"Oh, really."
His laughter stopped abruptly and his face fell as though he sensed the conclusion Smith was reaching. In response, Smith tilted his head upright, then in an abrupt and shockingly swift move thrust his hand, knife-like, forward, ploughing deep into the man's chest. He spasmed with the impact, and looked down in disbelief at the clean entry. Instead of blood however, a flood of thick black liquid emerged from it and began spreading like a second skin over his clothes and body. He looked back up at Smith who had fascination and concentration all over his expression, then struggled open-mouthed as the substance 'flowed' over his neck and face, smothering the man entirely...
...Then a new shape was formed from the black mass, lines redefining themselves over the same paths the mass had spread over. When it was over, another Smith stood mirror-like before the original, who promptly snapped his hand back. They stared at each other, one calm and the other intrigued. The first one spoke.
"...You're...me."
"No. You're me." The other matter-of-factly replied, then the two tilted their head upwards as the truth dawned upon them simultaneously.

"...We're us." Simultaneously again.

The Smiths smiled, and nodded. Then they turned back as one to the entrance; there was nothing left here for them. Smith paused as he suddenly realised the presence of the noisy radio and turned back-
-Only to see Smith smoothly switch it off.
"Thank you."
"A pleasure."
...And then they were gone.

Continued.

...Well I hope I haven't bored y'all folks, I just wanted to portray Smith in the way he deserved it, as well the rest of the legends. Do give me some honest comments/criticism on the story: I need to know how to better present it to you all without getting boring. Happy writing out there! :)

Heh heh heh....this is sooooooo great!
You've got Smith perfect...I can see it! I'm lovin' this...and no where near boring at all! Congrats, Mac, you've a winner on your hands......MORE!

Very, very powerful. The first chapter was excellently written, the second was well written and thought provoking and the last chapter....well, what can I say? Smith is my all time favourite character and you definitely did him justice....I can't wait to see how the stories of the individual characters progress.

Your style is superb and the language used is spectacuar and highly appropriate too.

More!

Jake

Originally posted by Agent_Kender
wow just wow...
I can only quote this because it is too good for words.
P.S. whats up fellow Agent?

Gotta love it. can't get ENOUGH!!! :D

Lol true.

Cool story. the first part whas cool how the 2 other agents that ran away from neo, after smiths destruction how they died.

Mac- can't believe I missed this! Amazing- well done. Such an imagination- but I can just see that happening, and a good explanation too! Gimme more! Please?

Hey hey guys...long time no see! Sorry I've been away...my flu's limiting my stamina. Not to mention ideas for stories...but here goes. A hearty hello to the newer and constant folk around here, Jake, Drake and so on...:)

Night had fallen as Tank laboured for results on their search. He was getting tired as well, looking at the thousands of names in the site. Still, he wasn't tired enough not to jump at the light tap on his shoulder-a quick glance told him that it was only Link. Another double-take, and he realized the lights of the Neb were dimmed: he hadn't even noticed the passage of time. The rest had to be sleeping by now: he yawned as he wished he could follow suit, too.
As though reading his mind, Link smiled and brought a hand down to rest almost possessively on the side of the keyboard. He spoke; there was no fatigue in his voice. "Lemme do this. I'll crack this site open by breakfast." A confident grin.
Tank rubbed his eyes, shaking his head. "...You ever stop learning, bro? This is my turf-shoo! I'll not have someone-<yawwwnnnnn>-steal my job. Go...learn something else." But he was clearly tired, and humor was in his voice.
"C'mon Tank-I've been at this only a year or so less than you. And I've been learning...just leave it to me while you sleep. I'll leave the proper Sentinel sensors on." This time, a wink. Puppy-like in his curiousity and helpfulness, dark-skinned Link was hard to deny. So Tank didn't even try. He raised his eyebrows and gloved hands in surrender, then thumped his brother-in-law's back as he relinquished the seat.
"...I'm warning you though: this forum's a crazy one. It's impossible looking for the right names: Hacksaw, SoldierofFortune, SecondFortuneTeller...AgentDragon!...the most Immortal-sounding name I've seen's a...Total Divinity...but she's one mean n' sly hacker..." Too tired to elaborate, Tank only slapped Link's back one more time before shuffling off to join the rest of the slumbering crew. He paused for a moment, regarding the other man. Then he smiled. "It's great having you here, Link. Zee chose well." This only got a soft chuckle from the other man: they both knew how much Link's wife hated the Nebecannezzar for Dozer's death in it. Without another word, he was off.

Alone now, Link cracked his knuckles, then began sifting through the streams of data before him. Taking a different approach than that of Tank's, he began searching for private rooms and discussions within the site, or of 'Lounge' threads that might identify a pair who were close. After all, it couldn't just be two random people they were looking for. There had to be a connection...there had to.

Hours later, he did.

Morning came quickly enough. With news that Link had found something, the rest of the crew had hurried up to the main deck a little too willingly from the messhall (leaving bowls of steaming milky paste in their wakes). Tank looked more than a little sceptical and jealous, while Neo and Trinity maintained their trademark neutral looks: they didn't know what to think of it. Morpheus was a little late, so they waited for him. He came back up soon enough, but with a disturbed look on his face. He had just relayed the news of the Oracle's disappearance to Zion: it was obvious they didn't take it too well.
When all had assembled, Link cut straight to the chase, bringing up random discussions and links archived in the forum sections of the Matrix website. As he did so, he started explaining his methods.
"Basically, Tank couldn't find anything on them based on names alone. I didn't think we could give up on that idea though since it's all we've got, so I started looking at what the Oracle could've meant." This got a few raised eyebrows: Link couldn't have known alot from his own experience, never being able to meet her. "...Now she's very figurative with her phrases. That could mean 'Immortal's got to refer to some link between two of the names, not the descriptions themselves." He brought up a few panels displaying a list of supposed links. Many failed, from the first glance. He kept typing.
"Now. That still isn't much to go on, so I made another guess. The Oracle must mean many things to have two people being so important. In many ways, they must balance each other...Yin and Yang I suppose. Their relationship must be very close, and they had to have minds that were above the rest. Looking around threads that gossiped about the forums, I lifted a few possible links. Then I went one step further with the duality thing."
Trinity was quick to pick up. "A couple." Her eyes darted up from the screen. Neo said nothing but like the rest, agreement was in his eyes.
Link promptly nodded. He surprisingly still sounded energetic, describing the process like some sleuth puzzle being artfully dissected. "Yes. I looked further, and surprisingly found only one couple. They had the longest relationship within the website, and with thousands-odd of them, that's impressive. And guess what-they're even of the same age! One thing didn't fit though, when I singled them out." A prompt beep sounded after his words and a series of keytaps, and he looked around expectedly.
It was Neo who caught the next sign. "Their names."
Tank promptly rolled his eyeballs at the needless drama, while Morpheus, serious as ever, prompted him on. "...Show me."
With another few strokes, the screen reflected two names now, highlighted and unmistakable.

'Fact', and 'Gray'.

It was Tank who first snorted sceptically. "...How the heck can they be linked?"
Link only smiled in a conspiratory manner. "It's the duality. Basically, Immortality has two definitions-literary, and litarally."
Morpheus's thoughtful face lifted a little. "Just like their sexes."
"Right. Now applied to them, it makes sense...but only to the gal. Fact." He tapped on her name with his finger, to highlight his point. "Truth. Answers. The most Immortal of all literature."
This made them all nod a little: the logic was very strong in his deduction. Tank actually began to chuckle.
"Still...I'm not sure what to make of this. The color gray? It didn't sound like physical Immortality..." Link clearly knew, though. He was just enjoying every minute.
Morpheus again, and this time he was nodding. "I've got it. Dorian Gray." He looked at the others, all except Link who had blank expressions on their faces. "...He's from English literature. A fictional character...an Immortal man." He smiled now, to match Link's grin. "Excellent work, Link. It looks like you've earned the name." This got similar looks of respect from the rest, and Link beamed, clearly happy to have been a part of the crew.
Then Morpheus got serious again, addressing them as a whole. "We have no time to waste. With the Oracle gone, chances are we have very little time to reach them, if they're indeed who we're looking for. We'll split: Trinity for Fact and me for Gray. Link: Get us deeper into broadcast depth while Tank jacks us in." The crew nodded, except for Neo and Trinity. He had left Neo out. Morpheus had a reason though.

"...Neo. My earlier communique brought more news: we've lost contact with the Nherza and her crew." This brought surprise to their expressions. "...We've pinpointed where their ship is, but we're the nearest ship to their location. They were on a mission in the matrix, and we need you to find them while Link finds the ship. It's operating very quietly now so chances are they're still jacked in. We have to split up."
Understanding, the crew of the Nebacanezzar got up and headed for their respective postitions. As Neo stood by Morpheus, watching as he got himself ready on his couch, he couldn't help but wonder at how a reference to a piece of literature possibly fabricated completely by the matrix would've formed such a vital clue to their mission. And something else. Morpheus caught the look and asked him so, just as Tank reached for the jack.

"What is it, Neo?"

He paused, thought for awhile, then chuckled. "I was just thinking...three of us, three places to go. What a coincidence."

Morpheus smiled at that, and looked powerfully back at him with a gleam in his eye.

"Not coincidence Neo. Providence."
And then he was Jacked in.

Continued.
...Well so ends chapter 4! Long, huh? You ain't seen nothin' yet! Hang on folks...:D

Well done Mac! Wow, sooo good. Astonishing. I love the tension and the drama, every episode another twist. But I really love how you've used the real characters. That's so unusual here, and not only that, but now incorporating new people too. I can't wait to see the rest.

Sweet fancy Moses...how do you do it bro? ...and working in The Portrait of Dorian Gray?!? Now THAT'S genius! :cool:

very nice Mac! :D

That is amazing! I'm definately looking forward to where this one is going. Nice one!

Wow! Excellent work! You've captured all the character's personalities perfectly. Magnificant writing, I'm speechless... Keep up the good work!

Gee thanks guys! I didn't know so many would pop by on my story-hey did you realise many of the names in it were cameos? Look closely! :)

Brandon was bored.
It was summer in Hong Kong at the moment, and it brought with it the usula sweltering discomfort that came with hot weather in a crowded city. He hated the heat, and hated going into it for no good reason whatsoever. The young man had just turned 21, a magical age where one turns into a fine young adult...if one believed all those rules of age. Apparently the government did, and he hated that. All those needless rules.
Unfortunately it was one such rule now that drove him out into the sweltering heat. His family had run out of soy sauce, and his annoyance of a father had sent him out and away from his beloved computer on an errand for more. And of course, his mother just couldn't help adding more than a few things to the list. So here the tanned young man was, a bag of groceries in his hand and sweat in his light-light!-shirt and jeans. Under his red cap, sweat condensed and clogged up his hair. He cursed once more under his breath. There was no shady walkway in sight and if he walked faster he'd sweat just as much as if he walked slower under the sun. The thin asian adjusted his spectacles and wondered to himself about how life was too precious and short to waste on such a meaningless life full of meaningless chores.
There was so much to learn and do out there!...Already the internet was becoming too inadequate for his thirst for knowledge. He had become too inquisitive for everyone lately, secretly obsessing about the falseness of his world, and the mystery of 'the matrix'...well, too inquisitive, that is, except to one special girl.
He smiled to himself. The girl he now loved had been a blessing: too good to be true. They were of the same age; loved the same things, felt the same curiousity. Their unique thoughts were always welcome in each other's company: the time they spent together was never enough...
...it was a pity they had never actually met before, loving over the internet as it was.
He sighed heavily, brushed his sweat-laden brow...then something made him look up, in just the right direction. Over there, just near the street corner...the old sweets shop stood as quaintly as it had always been in his memory. The displays filled with sweets of all kinds and cultures; the usual faded store sign...yet something felt strange. A compelling...urge to enter it. Curiousity, perhaps...but in the 8 years since he had last entered it; why now? Should he...? It was non-air-conditioned, and certainly hotter inside than outside according to his memory. He could turn and continue home, get the entire episode done with, get back to his computer...then he paused.
"...What the hey." It was scant seconds before he found himself just outside the door. He pushed, then gingerly entered.

The store was surprisingly cool, given that he couldn't place any difference in the ventilation fans. In fact, he almost couldn't tell the differences in the store with that of 8 years ago. All the large sweet jars, the measuring scale and sticky counter-top, the same old wizened man who smiled mysteriously at his approach...except for the style of sweets themselves, everything in the shop had remained unchanged...even the posters! It was unbelievable, and the storekeep's knowing gaze was disturbing through it all, he realised uncomfortably. He browsed the store for awhile, unsure of what he had come to do. Perhaps he could buy a few sweets. A rare indulgence, but given the nature of his excursion beyond home...
His thoughts were suddenly interrupted at the sound of the wooden door creaking open. He turned...then time seemed to slow for awhile as he gaped at the new visitor.
The man was Asian; a Hongkonger like himself if he wasn't mistaken, and tanned as well. He was a little tall for an Asian, and had short hair that resembled a coolie's. In fact that was the impression that had struck Brandon: the man looked like a vision of the past! He had a black singlet and matching chinese exercise pants, old-fashioned cloth shoes and white jacket that had old-fashioned chinese buttons on it...if not for the lack of a pigtail and the presence of a pair of quaint, round sunglasses that resembled the ones of the Towkays of old he might have thought he'd stepped back through time. The man had a hard, grim face that meant business, yet there was a silent grace and softness to his movements and aura that Brandon couldn't place. His heart skipped a beat as the man looked down at him for a moment. Was that a glimmer of recognition?
In a moment the man had reached the counter. With a nod, he spoke, and the storekeep looked eager to listen. His voice was low and soft, a tinge of hidden, strangely benevolent power in it that gave a very strong impression of the honourable pugilists of old. It was also in Cantonese: he was right, the man was a Hongkonger.
"...I have come for the goods old man; please give them to me." At which the man smiled and nodded profusely, strangely eager to meet his needs. Perhaps he was an old customer...but it wasn't his business. For that matter Brandon was done with the place. A little disappointedly, he began to turn and walk away...but was caught by a hand on his arm. He turned and his heart skipped a beat. It was the man, and he was looking at him with that powerful, alert gaze. "Please, stay for awhile."
More curious than anything, Brandon didn't resist. He took a few steps back, then nervously approached the counter alongside the man. It struck him as strange: the man had spoken to him in accented English. In Hong Kong, scarcely anyone spoke anything other than Cantonese. Brandon himself was one of the rare people who prefered to speak in English; somehow he had a feeling the man intended to speak that for that reason. He opened his mouth, unsure. "Who...are you?"
The man's gaze never left him. His sunglasses were tilted forwards with his face so that his eyes gazed at him at an upward angle, then he spoke, with that same voice, slowly and surely.
"I am Seraph. I have something I must give you, but first, I must apologize." His head bowed, almost imperceptably.
"F-for what?" Unsure and suddenly afraid, Brandon couldn't help but repress a shiver at the mysterious words, and the equally mysterious name.
There was a pause, then he spoke. "...For taking your time." Then his gaze shifted abruptly forward, just as the storekeep arrived. He had with him a bag of sweets; they were like all oriental sweets plainly and individually wrapped and devoid of all brand names. Strangely enough, the bag was small and the sweets were very plain-looking. What struck him was that they were all red, and there seemed to be no other similar sweets elsewhere in the shop. Brandon was puzzled.
Seraph received the goods, which strangely gave a low, almost digital whine that stopped when his hands touched it, then thanked the man, his face never adjusting its serious look. The storekeep merely smiled and nodded, strangely never asking for payment. Then, Seraph removed from the bag a single sweet, giving it to Brandon. He started at the gesture, staring dumbfoundedly at it and him. The storekeep merely looked on, a knowing smile on his face.
Seraph spoke. "This was meant for you, Brandon. You can choose to take it or not, and I've been informed of what you will do. I can assure you, I mean no harm."
Brandon was struck by the words. What? An offer of a sweet? How did he know his name? For that matter, how did whoever who sent him on this errand know exactly what he would do? It didn't make sense...a recent discussion on fate and free will he had in his matrix forum kept ringing in his head. His mind still reeling, he reached out to take it, then paused and wondered why he did.
At that, Seraph sealed the bag and placed it within his jacket, following which he bowed slightly to Brandon and without a word left through the front door. Besides the storekeep's low cackle, there was no further sound nor movement in the store for the next minute.
His mind reeling with the thoughts over the last few minutes, Brandon walked, unsurely toward the entrance. Pushing open the door and stepping into the now-strangely bearable sunlight, he paused to gather his bearings and noticed Seraph had completely disappeared. He felt alot better the moment he had left...strange. A door closed suddenly to the side, emitting the same strange digital whine that he could swear wasn't imagined by now. He looked down at his fingers, and the sweet he had almost forgotten about. With a shrug, he popped it open, discarded the wrapper, then with one last pause of hesitation popped it into his mouth. He smiled. It was surprisingly good. He jumped his eyebrows in a shrug, then headed back home. Boy, would Fact be amazed at what he'd tell her today...
...Brandon had conveniently left out one distinctive feature of the shop when he had entered and left. There was a small, wooden sign, placed directly above the door on its interior side. On it were 2 chinese characters, carved in green.
Zi Ji. Know thyself.

Continued.
Ah hope you liked that! Action the next episode-I promise! ;)

Wow... wow wow wow... This story is amazing! You have a real talent for writing Mac... The way you tied in Seraph and the character "Fact" in the last chapter was genious. Bravo, buddy! Let's hear some more!

Originally posted by ThereIsNoMatrix
Wow... wow wow wow... This story is amazing! You have a real talent for writing Mac... The way you tied in Seraph and the character "Fact" in the last chapter was genious. Bravo, buddy! Let's hear some more!

I couldn't have worded it better myself. Good job Mac!

MacLeod, well done! I really can't complement you enough on this chapter- it's just amazing. I'm almost speechless! But what an ingenius idea! And so wonderfully well-written- another completely different angle, another twist- such a well woven story! I can't wait for the rest of this Mac, but well done. You are so talented!
And I'm sure Fact can't wait either! lol :)

Thanks all-though I know how hard it's become trying to remember this story in the flood of so many great ones :) Here's the next chapt:...

Neo sat down on his chair: it was his turn next to be plugged in. Trinity automatically took the jack from Link, looking down lovingly at mankind's supposed savior. What mattered more to her now was that she loved him, and he knew. She bent down to kiss him...then as she straightened again, inserted the jack. Neo merely blinked as his nervous system and mind was linked to the ship's computer...then his eyelids closed, and he was in another place...
He glanced around. The familiar, endless white of the Construct was broken by the equally familiar and endless rows of weapon shelves in the weapons loading room. Morpheus was around the next corner, inspecting two uzis and pocketing ammo. Dressed in his familiar getup, he regarded Neo with knowing eyes as Trinity entered as well and began taking her pick.
"No weapons as usual Neo? I just can't stop being amazed."
"Yeah...I don't think I'll need those." His voice and expression were definitely serious. They knew.
Changing the topic, Morpheus picked up a wakizashi-a short japanese sword-and pocketed it, having learned how to use them in earlier training sessions. He spoke. "We'll be together for awhile. Link's trying to pinpoint the exact locations the two of them broadcast from. That can only be done when they log on-which is about an hour's time, since they do it very regularly. Till then we'll begin on your mission-to find the Nerzha. Are we clear on this?" They all nodded.
"Good. Link?" He snapped open a phone and brought it to his ear.
"Put us through."

In the part of the simulated world that served as the United Kingdom, Elizabeth strolled down the street, whistling a happy tune to herself. It had been a great day: payday! A humble check was tucked snugly in her back pocket, and she had the next day off...what better to finish up all the good news than a long chat with her beloved on-line boyfriend? She flushed at the thought...just months ago an on-line relationship was utter idiocy to her. Yet here she was, tough-as-nails Fact to her comtemplative opposite, Gray...she smiled unabashedly at the thought.
It was almost fate, how they had logged in at around the same time as each other, enjoyed the same topics, felt the same feelings about their surroundings. They were also of the same age! Physically though they seemed to be almost total opposites-she was fair and slender while he was tanned and lanky, her shoulder-length hair carefully maintained compared to him unkempt mop. She was also very attractive, though she didn't like to dwell on that vain idea. It was a pity her looks couldn't matter to the one person she wished it could...living alone, she relished what time she spent with the one person it seemed in the world who wouldn't really be bothered by physical appearances, just like herself on her side on the relationship...only their minds were involved, and that was all that mattered, wasn't it?
She rounded the last corner toward the internet cafe she frequented, then jumped at the abrupt sound of a door opening. Her eyes bulged-what was supposed to be a door into a condemned building had something completely different on the other side-a white, completely clean corridor filled with other doors. She couldn't catch another glimpse though-it closed with a strange electrical buzz. She blinked. Apparently someone had emerged from the door; he stood quietly by it and seemed to observe her.
She couldn't really tell, of course. The queer man was dressed in a simple, old-fashioned chinese getup, like some martial artist from an old kung-fu movie, and had small rounded sunglasses that somehow managed to hide his eyes. He came forward, straight toward her, seemingly in a hurry-she looked around and saw no one else. His intention seemed obvious.
A short distance away, he stopped, shaking something loose in his long baggy sleeves. She was more intrigued than anything, having had a daredevil-like streak for much of her life. She spoke; too curious. "Who're you?"
His movements were gracious, but still a little strained from the rush. He tilted his head gently, and spoke in his accented english. "I am Seraph, and I have something for you, but first, I must apologize..."
Strangely, she felt compelled not to answer. As if knowing why, the man smoothly continued, by pulling a small bag of sweets from his sleeve. "I mean you no harm, and must leave soon. Please, take it." With that he held out one plain-looking piece.
A blink was the only bit of hesitation she had. Before she knew it, the sweet was in her palm, just like Brandon only minutes earlier, but she didn't know that. When she had looked up though, he was already retreating back beyond the door, which closed with the same strange squeal. She stood there for awhile, a little disorientated, then approached the door he had left through. Gingerly, she pushed it open...then stared dumbfounded at the interior of the ruined building. The white corridor wasn't there any more...she rubbed her eyes, which reminded her of the candy in her hand. Shrugging, she ate it (it was lovely!...), then carried on back toward the internet cafe. Boy, was Gray in for a surprise when he hears of what just happened...

In another area altogether in the matrix, Seraph exited from a door at the side of a building. Opposite was another, forming a small, shady area between them that was not easily seen by passersby. He closed the door in a swift, graceful movement, then looked around him with sharp eyes, scanning for pursuers. Satisfied, he crossed over to the other building's similar door.
Just as his hands were about to close around the doorknob however, it turned and opened on its own accord, and Seraph recoiled as been scalded. The door opened to a horrifying sight, and time seemed to slow as the two men coolly strolled into the yard.
The men were almost exactly alike, varying only a little in height. Both were outrageously dressed in silver shirts, ties, pants and flowing overcoats that gave a unique spin on the phrase 'dressed to kill'. Both had sharp and flashy-looking mirrored shades, and silver dreadlocks that pulled the hairline back from startlingly silvered complexions. They moved with a swagger and ease that suggested a flair with the arts of intimidation. But the sinister tilt of their head and identical sadistic smiles was proof they'd kill just as easily as one would blink. These men were trouble, and Seraph recognized them, vaguely.
"...Twins."
"Ah, Wingless recognises us." The nearer one spoke. His voice was almost a whisper with a Southern English accent, but it chilled the blood. He turned to the other lazily, who turned to answer.
"-Yeah, but it makes sense. We took his job."
"-Ah, but he didn't want it. Did you, angel boy? 'Pissed off the boss a tad." He clucked his lips, a sarcastic sound.
"Let's hope you didn't get wiser since, 'cos I'm going to enjoy carving you up." It was getting hard to distinguish their voices; the way they rang in staccato fashion.
"Give us the candy, Wingless, or we'll take it from you." He licked his lips menacingly, as if savoring resistance.

Seraph's face was a mask of grim determination, and his browed furrowed deeply. His eyes masked behind his sunglasses, he tensed, assuming a hidden 'ready' stance. "I serve the Oracle now. You will not have these."
"Good, I was hoping you'd say that." It didn't matter who said that now; the both of them were now smiling equally deviously as they closed in for the kill...
Continued.

Heh. The fight's coming up next-you'll wish this one was put on film! :p

Amazing... I'm speechless Macleod... Are you a writer in real life? If not, you definately should be. The way you word everything is so seamless with the matrix movies... If someone handed me this story and said the Wach. Bros. wrote it, I would have no trouble believing that. Bravo!

Aw thanks!...<embarrassed look> and no I don't write for cash (sadly! lol)...frankly I didn't think it's that good...it's not seen around here as such (compared to the great ones around!). I try. Thanks, ThereIsNoMatrix. :)

Originally posted by ThereIsNoMatrix
Amazing... I'm speechless Macleod... Are you a writer in real life? If not, you definately should be. The way you word everything is so seamless with the matrix movies... If someone handed me this story and said the Wach. Bros. wrote it, I would have no trouble believing that. Bravo!

Couldn't have said it better myself. :) Unbeleivable MacLeod :D You are really skilled ;)
Thanks...
Drake