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The Fideles Praetorium stands as a bastion of both reverence and intimidation, a veritable fortress among the barracks that permeate Sector XII. Encircled by towering walls of ancient stone, weathered and etched with the scars of centuries past and yet still strong enough to hold back a thousand men, it exudes an aura of solemn authority. The entrance is guarded by crimson-cloaked sentinels, and a pair of ironbound gates keep it separate from the world. Inside, the courtyard is stark yet meticulously ordered — rows of flagstones worn smooth by the passage of countless boots, and an assembly ground where the Magnus Fideles conduct their drills in precise formation. Stone archways lead to shadowed halls lined with crimson banners, each marker with the order's crest, and dimly lit torches cast flickering light upon the helms of past Legatus, displayed like relics of war. The barracks are austere, a study in spartan functionality, yet there is a sense of pride in their simplicity and order — a reminder that each member is a warrior first and foremost. Above all, a central tower rises, crowned with a watchpoint where they can survey the entire city, ever-vigilant.
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