.:.Hall of Martyrs.:.

[Lewis!]

It was Spartan, as was everything within the Nerve Center. Utterly devoid of human warmth and emotion, say for what few charms had been laid at the feet of a few of the countless stone obliques which permeated the immense chamber. In bygone days, this place may have been a canteen or perhaps a gymnasium, most definitely some social space or other for inmates. Now however, it stood as a mausoleum of cold remembrance, the tomb in which most Inoculates could only hope to have their name inscribed in exchange for their final sacrifice to the Clamp-ed path.

Each of the chest-high cuboid pillars which lined the hall in a grid-like fashion was capped with a metallic pyramid bearing an engraved number on all four of its faces. This was the Garrison for which the stone honoured, and along the faces of the pillar itself, were bolted plaques, each carved with the name and tag of a deserviced Inoculate, the dull metal told only the briefest of tales, of how this soldier among many, has found themselves resting within the:

.:.Hall of Martyrs.:.
Ridentes Pereamus

Spoiler: .:.3.1.4.:.

@maxi

@Appetite Ruining Kebab