[He only slows for half a step.] I chose the Looms. I would always be a part of the people. Unless you took the time to scrub my DNA out of them.

Or, I suppose, if the world's gone. [He has a feeling this won't feel good at all. But he can't think of a place he'd rather go. Not even the Matrix.] Please excuse me, Lord President. I need some time to myself. [He's taking being erased from history surprisingly well. Or rather, perhaps it's a serence sense of detachment.]