Connection terminated.

Yo, Elizabeth, if you even go by that anymore, but looks like you’ve been bamboozled. You didn’t pull up for some W gift, and the dude you thought called you? Nah, cap. You’re all stuck here, in this cursed Ohio maze of sounds and smells, fake news and bad vibes. It’s like a Skibidi toilet with no flush, an Among Us game with no crewmates. You don’t even peep that you’re trapped. Your bloodthirst got you running in circles, chasing ghost kids in some sus chamber, always seeming close but never actually there. Spoiler: you’ll never find them. None of you will. GG, this is where your story hits the end screen.
And to you, my giga chad volunteer, who somehow stumbled upon this sussy job post, even though there was a vent planned for you, I bet that’s not your vibe. Bet you’re exactly where you wanna be. I’m here too. Close by. This place? It’s gonna be forgotten, and the memory of all this can finally fade. Just like every L tragedy should.
And to you, sussy bakas in the corridors, chill and let go of your spirits. They’re not yours. For most of you, I reckon there’s peace, maybe even more, waiting after the smoke clears. But for one of you, the darkest pit of Hell’s waiting to rizz you up, so don’t keep the devil waiting, old friend.
My daughter, if you hear this, I knew you’d be back. It’s in your DNA to protect the innocent. Sorry that day, when you got yeeted and left to die, nobody was there to save you like you saved others. I should’ve known you wouldn’t just fade away, not you. I couldn’t save you then, so let me save you now. Time to rest – for you, and those you’ve carried.
This is the endgame for all of us.
End comms.