Get used to it. She's not sure she ever will get used to it, here. Until recently, she defined her life by a single goal, and focused on little else beyond it. Upon achieving it, she now lacks all but the last remaining tie to the world she recognizes, lurking in the form of Raleigh's insistent, low voice in the section of her skull she has no idea how to partition away.

Mako makes a small, scratchy noise in the back of her throat that could be misconstrued as a bitter laugh.

"It was very different," she says quietly. "Years ahead."

Twelve years and a world's destruction ahead.