Rebuilding Australia's Highways and the Monorail Dilemma in Death Stranding 2

I'll never forget the first time I saw a completed highway stretch across the burnt-orange Australian outback in Death Stranding 2. It felt like finding an oasis in a desert made of rocks and chiral mist. After spending hours stumbling over volcanic terrain with cargo threatening to topple any second, that smooth asphalt became my salvation. The roads are back, baby! And they're just as glorious as I remember from the first game - though now they've got some serious competition from those shiny new monorails. Let me walk you through what I've discovered about these lifelines across the continent.

What Do Roads Actually Do?

Roads in this fractured Australia function like metallic arteries pumping life through dead landscapes. You can technically walk anywhere, but driving? That's where roads become your best friend. They transform brutal terrain into smooth highways where vehicles actually behave like vehicles instead of drunken kangaroos. But here's the kicker - they're exclusively an Australian feature. Mexico's tutorial zone? Completely roadless, forcing you to rely on those boot-worn paths like some primitive porter.

Once restored, roads follow predetermined historical routes - you're resurrecting corpses of infrastructure, not creating new ones. They typically connect major hubs like distribution centers and cities. The real magic? That center strip that acts like an infinite battery charger. Nail that sweet spot while boosting, and you'll glide across continents without losing a single percent of power. It's like surfing on electricity!

The Art of Road Reconstruction

Finding auto-pavers feels like uncovering buried treasure maps where X marks deteriorating infrastructure. These repair stations dot Australia in fixed locations - find your first one and others reveal themselves like breadcrumbs along the highway's ghostly skeleton. The repair process itself is beautifully straightforward:

• Deposit three key materials: 🪙 Chiral Crystals (the glittery lifeblood)

• 🔩 Metals (structural bones)

• 🧱 Ceramics (the skin)

But here's where it gets spicy: location matters. Repair outside the Chiral Network? You're footing the entire material bill yourself. Inside the network? Suddenly it becomes a community potluck where dozens of players toss in resources. I've logged in to find roads magically completed overnight - like infrastructure fairies visited while I slept!

⚠️ CRITICAL WARNING: Road construction vaporizes anything in its path faster than Timefall erodes mountains. That carefully placed watchtower? Poof! Gone! The game gives orange warnings, but I learned this the hard way when my favorite shelter dissolved like sugar in rain.

The Eternal Question: Road Maintenance

Technically yes, roads decay. Practically? Barely. They degrade slower than glaciers melt, remaining fully functional until they're hanging by digital threads. Think of them as stone monuments rather than delicate china - they'll outlast most of your structures. When repairs are needed:

• Same materials as construction

• Damage level = resource requirement

• Shared burden across all players

Here's the beautiful part: one porter's modest donation of a few hundred Chiral Crystals can restore a highway used by thousands. I've repaired roads that felt like placing a single stitch in a continent-sized quilt - small contribution, massive impact. And with degradation being so slow? It's less maintenance and more occasional community charity.

Roads vs Monorails: The Great Transport War

Now let's address the shiny new elephant in the room: monorails. These futuristic ziplines-on-steroids promise speed but demand conformity. Where roads let you peel off anytime like a rebellious teenager, monorails lock you into predetermined routes like train tracks for the digital age.

Feature	🛣️ Roads	🚝 Monorails
Speed	Moderate (with boost)	⚡ Lightning fast
Flexibility	Turn anywhere	Fixed stations only
Cargo Transport	Full vehicles & goods	Cargo continues without you
Accessibility	Drive/Ride anytime	Must find connection points

Monorails feel like riding electric eels - thrilling when you catch one, but you'll get dumped precisely where it decides. Jumping between sections? Exhilarating! But try delivering sensitive cargo to remote areas? Suddenly that trusty highway looks mighty appealing.

At the end of the day, both systems coexist like complementary organs in one body. Roads offer freedom; monorails offer velocity. I find myself using both depending on whether I'm doing precise deliveries or just need to cross continents quickly. Sometimes I'll monorail to a region, then build out local road networks - like using a helicopter to reach a base camp before hiking deeper.

Rebuilding Australia feels less like construction work and more like communal knitting. Each road segment becomes a stitch connecting us all. Sure, monorails are flashy, but there's something profoundly satisfying about cruising a highway you helped birth across the Outback. Maybe it's the permanence? Or the knowledge that somewhere, another porter is sighing in relief as they hit your smooth pavement after hours of rocky hell. Either way, I'll keep dumping ceramics into auto-pavers - it's the closest thing we have to shaking hands across the chiral network.