New York Calling, Agents! (But Don't Expect Cabs or Broadway Shows)
So, you've snagged your gear, leveled up your boomstick, and the sirens of Manhattan are whispering sweet nothings in your ear. You're itching to trade D.C.'s swampy humidity for the Big Apple's...well, swampier humidity and Hyena-infested subways. But how do you get there, Agent? Don't worry, your friendly neighborhood Bard (with zero combat experience, mind you) is here to guide you through the (potentially explosive) process.
Option 1: Helikopter Hijinks (aka. The Tourist Trap)
Remember that charming chopper pilot hanging by the White House lawn? Turns out, he's more than just a source of awkward elevator silence. He's your gateway to the concrete jungle, offering a one-way ticket to Coney Island...I mean, Lower Manhattan. Just approach him like you're hailing a Lyft in rush hour, complete with aggressive hand gestures and promises of exorbitant tips (in the form of crafting materials, obviously). Be warned, though: this one-way trip is like a bad Tinder date – you can't go back until you've finished Aaron Keener's vacation album. So, pack your patience and your finest turret deployment skills.
Option 2: The Subway Shuffle (aka. Hyena Hospitality)
Feeling nostalgic for rush hour commutes and questionable smells? Then strap on your gas mask and head to the nearest Metro tunnel. Think of it as spelunking, but with the added bonus of explosive backpacks and rogue Division agents. Just follow the friendly orange glow of Hyena flashlights – they're eager to offer a "warm" welcome party with lead confetti. Remember, sharing is caring: share your grenades liberally, especially with the conductor who keeps blasting disco at full volume. Bonus points if you manage to snag a working train car – those Hyena engineers are surprisingly handy.
Option 3: The Parkour Promenade (aka. Roof-Hopping Romp)
Forget taxis, forget unreliable subways – channel your inner Spider-Man and scale those skyscrapers, Agent! Just picture it: the wind whipping through your hair (assuming you haven't traded it for a gas mask yet), the rhythmic clang of bullets against steel, and the breathtaking view of a city slowly reclaiming nature (and by nature, I mean overgrown vines and rogue drones). This option is for the acrobatic agents. Think you can pogo-stick on exploding barrels and leap across chasms wider than Agent Faye Lau's sniper rifle scope? Then go for it, tiger! Just... don't blame me if you end up face-planting a Rikers' grenade launcher.
Remember, Agents: No matter how you choose to waltz into New York, one thing's for sure: it's gonna be a blast (literally, sometimes). So pack your wit, your firepower, and maybe a therapist's number – you'll need it after dealing with Keener's fashion choices. And hey, if you see me doing the Macarena with a pack of Hyenas, just pretend you never met me. Happy hunting, Agents!
P.S. Don't forget to send postcards! We miss you in D.C. (well, maybe not the Hyenas...).
