This server ain't for the faint of trigger finger, sunshine. You want speed? Strap on a mini-chopper and hunt the skies, metal birds raining hellfire. We're talking personal choppers so high you taste static. Bases ain't castles, they're bait – raid 'em or lose 'em. Skill tree for freaks and fiends, pump jack your fortune, cook up some rage. Bases built strong enough to hold back the apocalypse (or at least a well-lubed raid crew). Trains roar steel, ships rust on the reef, monsters howl in the night – this ain't no picnic, it's a goddamn Wagnerian opera of loot and lead. Buckle up, buttercup, it's gonna be a blast..