Okay. Fuck. [That can be undone, right? Factory reset, or whatever. Don’t they upload Connor’s memory to a database somewhere? He can’t just not come back.] And your name isn’t “Fucking Connor.” Just Connor.

Neck plates. Okay. [That’s something tangible Hank can look for. Probably on the floor somewhere, yeah?

He is not going to panic. His hands are shaking but this is not panicking, goddamn.]