2: Arena

It's a beautiful day in the neighborhood. Unfortunately the neighborhood is a gladiator arena 5 km beneath the surface of a dead planet. There can only be one medalist in these games, a sole survivor. Failure on your part will be a sign of weakness of the human race and will certainly insipre unrelenting attacks on your kind, likely to result in extinction. Right now you are in a ventilation duct high over the arena -- I trust you are not acrophobic. I suggest you take a flying leap...

Are you having fun yet? Broken a sweat maybe? Nipping groundless hopes in the bud, I should now mention that the best is yet to come. I can't let you out of here until you are all alone. Reports of idiosyncrasies in the final waves suggest that you make liberal use of the pattern buffer. I would hate for an act of cyber-entropy to spoil your fun. I will either see you back here later, or in Valhalla. The choice is yours.