Mr. Anderson. I see you are as predictable in this world as you are in the other.

- What?
- He's out of his mind. It might appear that way.
But Mr. Anderson and I know...

...that appearances can be deceiving. Confused, Mr. Anderson?
It'll all become clear in a moment.

Thank you for bringing me the gun.
You can set it down there. Don't do it.

- Shoot. Shoot now.
- Yes, shoot. Fry us. Burn us alive. Do it. If you don't, he'll kill us both.

Look at him. He knows
he should do it, but he won't. - He can't.
- Do it.

Back away from the gun
and turn around. Let her go. Somehow familiar, isn't it?

We've been here before,
you and I, remember? I do. I think of nothing else.

- Who are you?
- Still don't recognize me? I admit, it is difficult to even think
encased in this rotting piece of meat.

The stink of it filling every breath,
a suffocating cloud you can't escape. Disgusting.

Look at how pathetically fragile it is.
Nothing this weak is meant to survive. - What do you want?
- I want what you want.

Yes. That's it, Mr. Anderson. Look past the flesh. Look through the soft gelatin of these
dull cow eyes and see your enemy.

- No.
- Oh, yes, Mr. Anderson. - It can't be.
- There's nowhere I can't go.

There is nowhere I won't find you. - It's impossible.
- Not impossible. Inevitable.

Goodbye, Mr. Anderson. This is it. It's gotta be. Oh, no.

I wish you could see yourself, Mr. Anderson. Blind messiah. You're a symbol for all of your kind, Mr. Anderson.

Helpless. Pathetic. Just waiting to be put out of your misery. I can see you.

It's not over, Mr. Anderson. It's not over.

I can see you | The Matrix Revolutions [Open Matte]