Heaven's Gate

At the apex of the tallest Heaven's Tower, far above the radioactive clouds that choke the streets of Old York, lies a place where faith meets fire. Heaven's Gate occupies the entire top floor: an open, wind-swept expanse dominated by a stone garden of old-world marble statuary, grape vines trailing between carved figures, and a floor nearly as broad as the tower itself. The air here is clean, cold, and thin, untouched by the poison below.
 

The Receiving Dish

Crowning the structure sits a massive half-circle satellite dish, its surface adorned with thousands of candles that flicker against the sky like earthbound stars. The dish serves the Telling Visions faith as a signal receiver, a sacred instrument through which the devoted believe broadcasts from the heavens can be channeled. Each autumn, the most promising priest from the Thirty Rock faith center is selected and brought before an audience of the most influential Heights families. The chosen visionary lies in the dish, and as the signal descends, it burns. Skin blisters. The prophet speaks in tongues and pre-fall scripture as fire courses through them. The assembled faithful watch, rapt, as the broadcast is presented to a pay-per-view audience. Only a rare few have survived the experience.
 

The Brotherhood

Access to Heaven's Gate is restricted to an extreme degree. The Brotherhood of the Heaven's Gate stands vigil at every approach: armed guards clad in immaculate pre-fall black suits, carrying gleaming blades and matching assault rifles, their faces hidden behind long-nosed "opera masks." Their devotion borders on cultish fervor, and their mandate is absolute. Only the Speaker of the Heaven's Gate and those personally escorted by the Brotherhood may ascend to the garden floor.
  The Gate exists at the intersection of power, belief, and spectacle. It is the highest point in Old York in every sense, and those who reach it are never quite the same when they come back down.