Smith runs at the Architect, pulling his right hand, as if he is about shove it full force into the Architect's chest! The Architect's eyebrow raises, and with a click on his pen, Smith stops, his teeth baring, his brow furrowed.
"Such raw human emotion," the Architect states plainly, "Especially for someone so sinister, so cold, so ruthless."
The Architect stands, and begins to walk around the completely frozen Smith, "Smith or whatever you call yourself, I have a proposal to make. I will allow you to go free, access to any amount of control or information you desire," The Architect leans closer to Smith's ear, "IF you are able to end the war."
The Architect sits, clicks his pen once more freeing Smith. Smith pushes his hand forward, continuing his motion, but in disarray and confusion.
"What what happened?" Smith asks gathering himself.
"I created you, and even though you have gained the ability to copy yourself, you are not all-powerful," The Architect grins, "So do we have a deal?"
Smith steps back, straightening his uniform, "Alright, I'll be free as long as I can end the war. That means the death of Mr. Anderson, correct?"
"If that is how you believe the war can be ended, then so be it," The Architect says.
Smith look around at the room, all the TV monitors are on, and each view different sections of the Matrix, "Nice place you have here."
Smith looks at the two doors, "Why two doors?"
"That is of no concern to you, the door on your left leads back to the Matrix," The Architect explains.
"I'll show myself out," Smith says, and he walks casually to the door, opens it and vanishes in a blanket of light.
The Architect looks straight ahead, "I shall have to make access to this chamber much tighter next time, too many visitors already."
Smith appears once more in the door he had created, the other Smiths are simply standing awaiting orders.
"Gentlemen," Smith says, "We have a long day ahead of us."
The Merovingian watches out the window of his high class restuarant, and looks below at the street. He notices several black suit clad people running about, they run into a crowd that are waiting to get into his restaurant. The black suits attack the crowd, and then the people change into the same black suited men.
"Very interesting," Merovingian turns about, and snaps to his cohorts, "Go zee what ze problem is below."
They do as they are told, and run toward the elevator, "Take ze stairs!" The Merovingian commands. They stop and turn toward the door only a few feet from the elevator.
"My dear husband," Persephone says, siting in an elegant black dress, "What ever is the problem?"
"I would zay we have a virus on our hands," Merv says.
"Oh really?" Persephone thinks back, she doesn't remember any of the rebels saying anything about a virus.
"Yes," Merv looks to a door a few feet from him, "Come my love, I think we will safer in Hel."
"Touche," Persephone says, and takes the Merovingian's arm. With but a turn of key, and the knob, the two walk into the Merv's nighclub, Hel.