Declan wonders if this alternate universe has somehow perfected bringing actual nightmares to fruition. He rubs his forehead, not sure if it's a headache coming on or just his pressing sense of propriety and dedication to being unknown pounding against his skull. There are deep fakes of his brother doing God knows what on the internet.

This is fine.

"I won't google you," he promises. Not without one hell of a safe search function on. "Is there anything else you need to warn me about?"