[ at long freaking last you have finally made it to the helipad, which sits on the site of the ruined game tower. it's a shell of its former imposing self, with tens of hundreds of mangled fragments of debris strewn haphazardly around the area and spattered in a suspicious red paint that marks the site with its trademark "🅗". ]

[ the corpses of the idols that came before you - those who tried and failed - are littered among the rubble, but unfortunately they're not the only ones, which is exactly why you can't stop to mourn. ]

[ that said, the crackling of a battered and beaten ham radio does fill you with DETERMINATION, ]

Pilot: Hello? Hel- Hey! you made it!! [ he sounds delighted for about half a second, because then... then comes the not so good news. ] I- I'm real sorry, but I'm still about ten minutes out, so you're going to need to sit tight until I get there. You got this, I know you do, so give em hell. I'll see you soon.

[ a news chopper ( and your ticket out of this zombie infested hell hole ) is only a few minutes away, making this... your last stand. ]