my card slides down swiftly, the electronic lock on the door beeping as it opens for me. i walk in, noticing at first glance, that you're quite young, around the same age as me, someone who I'd find strange to be part of the resistance as most are middle-aged or older. i stop in front of you, placing my hands on the table and leaning forward to look down at you I'm going to ask you some questions and you will tell me the truth or you'll be punished. my voice and glare unfeeling. Understand?
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