The Meadow of the Dead
Freya walked down a stone pathway towards the meadow inside of a wooded park. Or rather, the wooded park inside of the unnamed cruiser that was the heart of the Republic.
Of course, its citizens had long since tired of it being unnamed, and had thus renamed it Folkvang. Because of that, the park itself was renamed Folkvang Forest, which was apt despite only having sparse woods inside it.
She came to the middle of the meadow and looked up at the sculpture that towered above her.
It wasn’t holographic or any kind of digital projection - this sculpture was a real, physical, tangible thing. She walked right up to it and touched it with an open hand. It felt cold, hard, metallic.
The entire sculpture was made of bands of metal which felt soft under her fingers, like gold. Except the metal itself was a coppery gray.
Then she took a step back and peered at the sculpture itself.