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She stepped into the rain, jacket soaked but tidy, hood down, hair damp and clinging in strands to her neck. Her boots made the faintest splash in the shallow puddles along the curb.
He could have struck. One flick of the card, and the mission would have been complete.
Clean. Invisible. Efficient.
But he didn’t.
—
Or: Remy is given one simple mission, to assassinate Rogue.