A future life? [That sounds...extraordinary. Implausible. Claude is right, in a sense -- they're both equally possible...or maybe impossible? Every fiber of his being is telling him that it couldn't be. That it was just a dream. Don't look for meaning in it.]

If that's the case, maybe I should try a career as a fortune teller.

[It's a flippant response, lacking in any meaning or association...but it makes him pause anyway. Fortune, seeing the future, a spread of cards on a table, a blue room--

"Do you believe in fortune telling?"

He exhales, trying to focus on the question at hand.]

It looked...almost human. But it had eight arms and blue skin...and a trident. [He frowns.] I didn't get the sense that it would hurt me. It was more like...a friend. Or an ally.