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... lights, no sheen of polish — just a worn brick building showing its age. I paused at the entrance, feeling the same weight I’d felt two years ago, wearing the face of Mr. Dust rather than Mr. Fox.

I’d stood here twice before: once during the interrogation of Cipher’s accomplice, and once when Logan—later revealed as Cipher—burst into the streets and I needed backup. Both times, I’d been in disguise.

Today, I didn’t need the mask.

Pushing through the door, I was met by th ...

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