Something about having the full force of that stare levered upon her is both unpleasant and unbearable, and she looks back to the water as she suppresses a shiver.

"No," says Mako, quietly. "Not until just before the Rift took me."

But she does not like to remember her dreams. They were always the same, and Onibaba always ravaged the city while she ran and knew, with a crushing, sinking pit in her chest, that she was already alone.

She thinks she likes the Rift's dreams better. They are less personal, in most ways. She prefers that.

She makes a soft, almost amused sound, kicking up droplets of water and watching them scatter across the surface. "I do not know if A.I.s dream. Have you ever dreamed before?"