In the First Week of War, the brave warriors of ATLAS stood alone against two mighty enemies. Outnumbered, surrounded, and fueled only by caffeine and questionable strategic decisions, they fought day and night. Many pixels were lost. Many repair bills were paid.
Then came the glorious arrival of our allies, BEER.
The people rejoiced.
The enemies trembled.
And ATLAS... became unemployed.
At first, we celebrated. "Finally, reinforcements!" we cried.
But as the days passed, a dark realization dawned upon us.
Every target was already hit by BEER.
Every battle was already won by BEER.
Every plan had already been executed by BEER.
ATLAS scouts would return from reconnaissance only to find the enemy already burning.
ATLAS generals would draft complex battle plans only to receive the message:
"Thanks, BEER already did it."
ATLAS soldiers now spend their days wandering the base asking each other:
"Does anyone need anything attacked?"
Some have begun attacking trees just to feel something.
Morale is declining rapidly. Several commanders have forgotten what the "Attack" button looks like. One veteran reportedly stared at the map for three hours before whispering, "I used to be somebody."
Therefore, we humbly request that BEER leave at least a few enemies alive so ATLAS may continue to believe it is participating in this war.
We do not ask for victory.
We do not ask for glory.
We merely ask for targets.
Signed,
The increasingly decorative members of ATLAS.