Just as you spend some time recovering from one wound, another opens up. I find myself unable to keep up these days. I'd rather jump ship while I've yet to fall into a downward spiral. I fear the time is approaching when that's what will become of me what with all of the conflict amidst Mega City. Kill codes are being manufactured for Redpills now? Despite the system's resources being utilized on known terrorists, it's only a matter of time before the wrong hands find their digits wrapped about the right tools of murder.
I am losing my faith in the system itself. I suppose I have Agents Betts and Purcell to thank. Of course if it were up to them it would all amount to my petty human concerns. While the secretarial program that handled Lucite's affairs made contact with me, it was Purcell who'd tracked her code signature to the clandestine meeting. I suppose it was generosity that permitted them to let me live after consorting with a rogue resource, but I saw no crimes being committed by this particular Exile.
If anything, she wanted to help me...
Guard the corpse. Those were my orders. Even as Betts struck her down he didn't even so much as flinch to acknowledge my demands to let the program go. I even resorted to challenging the Agent and stood my ground for what I felt was right. Purcell insisted that I am emotionally attached to Lucite's affairs. Of course I am interested only in what connections she has to the Merovingian without being entirely in synch with what the other Exiles want...
What the unfeeling Agent program did to the Exile was dishonorable. For the sheer fact that I was present and yet unable to do anything, I feel in some way responsible for what had transpired.
Standing here now, I think over it all... Over my bitterness, my hatred, my rage... I've even resorting to lashing out at the system and the code I revere so much. I've began a road of regret that I cannot easily deter myself from. I figure one last unfulfilling attempt at retaining some sense of dignity, some sense of honor, is worth it. I offer my apologies and my services to Lucite and make my offering to the Undeclared status and shelter amongst the Exiles.
So I step outside of that meeting with Lucite, recognizing that she would rather kill me than take me as a replacement to the departed assistant. I do not wish to turn on the Machines so much as I refuse to take orders from Special Agent Purcell or Special Agent Betts at this time. I step out into the rain that continues even now... I step out with an air of clarity about my head. I am tired. I am exhausted; I've grown weary with all of my duties. E Pluribus Neo runs rampant and terrorizes the system. Merovingian operatives plot on other Redpills. Zion continues to struggle against what the Machines know to be right, and yet now I challenge what is really right out here in this digital jungle.
I'm tired.
I said that already...
