"Whatever. What you call me is your business."
Russell did not care about being called the Savior by Morpheus. He did not believe there was any Savior in the world. In the end, people had to rely on themselves.
Take Neo, for example. The long-awaited Savior had been arranged by the machines from the very beginning. How disheartening was that? It would have been better if there had been no Savior at all.
Still, he could not deny that the Savior identity was incredibly useful. It could fool... ahem, it could bypass a lot of unnecessary trouble.
Besides, if there really was a Savior in this world, Russell hoped someone would save him too.
He could accept the ship splitting apart. Natural and man-made disasters were unavoidable. A responsible man would never make excuses or complain about misfortune befalling him. He would silently shoulder every disaster with his own strength.
Like him!
He felt wronged, but he said nothing.
But the problem now was that the two ships were drifting farther and farther apart. He needed a strong, powerful waist, planting his feet on both ships in a solid stance to make sure they sailed side by side instead of dumping him into the water.
Russell was not overthinking things. He was merely preparing for danger in times of peace and looking far into the future.
After receiving Russell's affirmative answer, Morpheus grinned like a two-hundred-pound dark fatty and said excitedly, "Wonderful! I'm taking the truth back to Zion. I'm taking the Savior back with me."
Morpheus laughed as tears streamed down his face. When he had first learned that all of humanity's resistance had merely been part of the machines' grand game, that no matter what humans did, they could never escape the fate of being chess pieces, and