"Or maybe they'll just come at us harder with more people," Razor said pessimistically.
Nobody had a good answer to that possibility.
The cafeteria was a vast room that seemed deliberately designed to amplify human misery and suffering.
Fluorescent lights buzzed constantly overhead, casting everything in a sickly yellow-green glow that made everyone look vaguely ill.
Long metal tables stretched in endless rows, bolted firmly to the floor to prevent them from being used as weapons.
The air smelled of industrial cleaner, old grease, and something indefinably rotten that Shuyin couldn't identify.
Hundreds of inmates filled the cavernous space, their orange jumpsuits creating a sea of color broken only by the dark uniforms of the guards stationed strategically along the walls, batons ready at their sides.
