Rend humans apart is a rather good reason to not constantly put oneself on display. Mako lifts her eyebrows subtly, reasonably certain - only reasonably - that this instinct was born from the part of her brain that was hers and has always been hers, and not with a certain person with whom her mind has recently come deeply, intimately familiar.

She can no longer tell the difference between the genesis of each thought, from what part of her fractured mind it arrived.

"I am still getting used to it," she says. It sounds like an admission of guilt, and she thinks, maybe, hopefully, probably, that part came from her. "I do not think Manhattan existed where I came from, anymore."