Hojo dreams about DNA, unraveling secrets from silent helixes. Sometimes he dreams about experiments in progress, or experiments he wishes to pursue. He does not care to waste even his sleep on pointless nonsense.
His brain, normally perfectly trained, occasionally rebels. Those nights he dreams of the glint of light from a golden claw (even in these dreams he is pleased at the quality of the work and the perfection of the operation) and blood-red eyes in darkness. Some nights he walks through the mansion, searching for something he never finds and never remembers when he wakes.
Those nights, he prefers to rise and work. There is no sense in wasting valuable time on unprofitable pursuits.