Clicking on the Sentinel Pyramid logo at the top of the newspaper brings up the following encoded message:
From: Zion Council To: All Hovercraft Captains Subject: Three Vital Matters 1) Congratulations to all Zionites who participated in bringing down the scourge of the Assassin. You literally saved the Matrix and the lives of the millions in the pods. Fortunately, bluepills were sheltered from the worst of it; they could not see what was happening in the sky. Special recognition to those who landed final blows: OmegaAlphaB, Tpaine, BlackManmba, Wurp, PaaWaa, and Riac. 2) The Assassin’s gun and ammunition are missing. We believe they contain kill codes, which subvert the safety technology that currently protects all those who visit the Matrix from Zion. Any information you may have as to their location is urgently sought. 3) We are puzzled by the article in the newspaper about "Cryptos," which, as many of you know, is also the name of a prominent officer in the Zion military who has gone missing. Reviews of the archives produced nothing of the Matrix-bound Cryptos, and the history mentioned in the article is apparently fabricated. Again, any information about either Cryptos - or confirmation that they are the same person - is urgently sought. End Transmission |
Cryptos is also known for his "preaching," which includes things that would be very confusing to bluepills who don't know that bluepills are considered "sleepers" and redpills are considered "awakened":
"I knew the giver of sleep. He kept his eye on his dream, and achieved it, in a way. But now I wonder if he would approve of this strange amorphous state. I think he would join us. I think he would throw his reds in the river and sing the blues with us. We can never know, may he rest in peace, but this is what I believe." |
The only person who would fit this "giver of sleep" description would be Cypher. Considering that Cryptos was also the name of a Zion military officer who went missing, clearly Cryptos has been reinserted into the Matrix. Cypher also wanted to be reinserted into the Matrix but died before it could happen (but it would have happened, thus, he achieved his dream "in a way"). I'm guessing the machines gave Cryptos additional system access that enables him to do what appears to be magic. As we learn at the end of chapter 3.2, Cryptos is being manipulated by Machines to manipulate humans to supress redpills and encourage bluepills to remain bluepills. (Machines can't kill redpills anymore, but they can certainly manipulate them.) Cryptos is almost certainly the Zion military officer with memory implants given at the time of reinsertion designed to change his appearance, his speech patterns, etc. so that Zionists won't go after him. He also proves later to know who Niobe and the Merovingian are, which he couldn't know if he were just a bluepill.
The bluepill article also describes a cult following of Cryptos, which of course is really Cypherites.
Well, you did it. Some others landed a blow or two, sure, but you bon vivants were in there turning that goose into foie gras with the best of them. We expect nothing less, and we expect style. That's what we're about. Big juicy c'est bons to mpminoc, DjWakko and GirlNextDoor for delivering coups de grace. And to everybody who swatted flies. Place smells better already. One thing, though. Looks like some of those nasty little kill codes, the ones that override the jack-out safeguard, are missing, along with the Assassin's gun. Somebody, I hope one of you, has some wicked stuff. If it's you, or you know something, come by and have a little Merlot with us. The Merovingian might be in a very generous mood if you do. |
Down the streets and alleys, down hallways and rooms where the stench of desperate kill-or-be-killed moments hangs amid the office equipment that processes fake data in a puppet-show world, the file cabinets and wall safes stuffed with devices and codes and pills, these are our haunts. The pools of light paint the drear streets and walls, but mostly there is darkness. The glowing phone booths are communal bonfires. We cluster about them in our tribal groups. Men leap to and from rooftops. Women dance on sculptures fifty feet in the air. Excuse me if I wonder why. Why we do this. Where it's leading. Because it can't just be for existence. Mere amusement. Neo didn't die so we could play superhero in a city of lying shadows, fighting ghosts. Neo, are you out there? Is Morpheus with you? Are you golden light, in a world of golden light? Don't get me wrong. This world is a gift. The dirty lots that don't begrime us, the bullets that don't really kill. So much to explore, with enough danger to quicken the blood and remind us we're still the savannah animals that donned clothes and then, Godlike, created beasts so smart they fooled us for decades in our collective cyber-dream. Beasts that could still kill us, if they chose. But somehow, so far, choose not to. Because of Neo. Because he saved them when he saved us. Why is there no temple to Neo in the Matrix? Why is there no shrine in Zion, holding Neo's relics? I understand why Morpheus set off his code bombs, though I don't think Neo would've wanted him to. Not that I'm any less glad we got that blank-faced vermin who killed him. Forgive my rambling. My thoughts are unordered. But my yearning is real. For purpose, here in the Matrix. If you feel the same way, come by the Mara Congregational Church. I hang out there. Let's talk. No, I won't identify myself. I'm nobody special, though I knew Neo, a little. I may wear disguises, come to think of it; I don't want to be a celebrity.I'm just a seeker. Same as, maybe, you. Don't trust anybody who says they wrote this. I'll deny it. But let's discuss, with like-minded people, the most important question: What would Neo want us to do? |
Ciao, Rosapillore. You have written your names into Matrix history. The Assassin was destroyed, the Matrix restored and reaffirmed, and you were there. Many of you landed blows. Perhaps more of you knew the pain of almost-death and RSI reconstruction, which we know is distressing. To be out of the Matrix, even for a time, is to be less alive. I salute your patience. I am told some of you use the reconstruction interlude to meditate, to find your focus in an imagined target within your chests. Others stand, stretch, and roll their heads like antennae searching the sky for the radiance of distant stars. How beautiful. Bella. Now two matters must be addressed. One, congratulations to those warriors who had the honor of landing killer strikes: Kanjo; theconstant; CapOne. Others who fought with noble viciousness deserve no less credit, but, though chance has its role in their achievement, these combatante forever have the right to say: I did it, the final blow. The other matter involves the Assassin's weapon and bullets. As you know, we know at least some of the Assassin's bullets contain kill codes that subvert the emergency jack-out mechanism. Now they are missing. Someone has them. Someone has the power to kill Redpills with finality. Obviously, this is a great problem. If you learn anything of this matter, report it to the proper authorities. Pax Vobiscum, Agent Pace |
Back to MxO Chapter 3.2 or Back to Sentinel Index |