[ By now she should be used to this. How many times can you face the same situation again and again and still be surprised by it? But there's something that makes her feel tired deep in her bones every time. She is sick unto death of strangers with the features of friends. ]

No, we have not, in the conventional sense. But in a metaphysical one, I suppose yes.

[ She gives him her hand anyway, because— what else is there to do but start over? There's no point in lying to an android. They tend to be too observant to fool, no matter how skilled a politician she might be. ]

I am Medusa, Queen of the Inhumans. I expect that means little to you.

[ Statement of fact. ]