It’s clear there were once more letters in the sign that towers over the arena, but you can’t find any trace of them on the hillside. It’s just scorched earth and the remaining monstrous letters, which are obnoxiously lit every night. Partially burned tree trunks litter the hill, but there’s no indication of what started the fire - or why it spared some letters but not others. The smell of smoke and ash permeate everything. A hot wind blows.