The air in the dropship was thick with the smell of ozone and sweat. Next to me, Rodriguez was methodically checking his liberator carbine for the third time, his knuckles white. I watched the mission timer tick down on my wrist display—four minutes until we hit the atmosphere of Hellmire. My own stratagem selection screen glowed faintly on my forearm, a familiar list of destruction: the recoilless rifle, the orbital precision strike, the 500kg bomb. It was the same loadout I’d run for the last dozen missions. Effective? Absolutely. But as I glanced at the fresh-faced cadet across from me, fumbling with his supply pack, I felt a familiar twinge. We were a hammer, and every problem looked like a nail. I couldn’t help but think, if only unlocking more strategic options in this game was as straightforward as when I managed to unlock my Super Ace Free 100 No Deposit Bonus last week. That was a game-changer that required no firepower, just a simple registration process.

That mission on Hellmire was a brutal slog. We were overrun by a brood of Chargers, their heavy armor deflecting our initial volleys. I called in an orbital barrage, painting the ground with lasers, and the resulting explosions lit up the crimson sky. It was spectacular, a symphony of controlled demolition. The stratagems in this game are delightfully varied in terms of what they bring to the table, though it's primarily all through the lens of blowing stuff up in different ways. We had the jetpack, sure, which let me reposition to a cliff edge, and the energy dome shield that saved Rodriguez from a hail of bug plasma, but let's be real—most stratagems boil down to hurting enemies. We won, of course. The mission success screen flashed, congratulating us on delivering the most pain as quickly as possible. But the cadet didn't make it. He got cornered because we simply didn't have the tools to effectively protect him. This isn't inherently bad, the game is a blast, but it is a little limiting for players like me who sometimes want to take on more supportive roles in the makeup of their squad. I left that mission with a head full of credits and a nagging thought: our toolbox for democracy felt a bit one-dimensional.

It was that feeling of limitation that drove me to take a break and browse some gaming forums. That’s where I saw it—a post about the Super Ace Free 100 No Deposit Bonus. Frankly, I was skeptical. Free credits just for signing up? It sounded too good to be true, a stratagem that didn't involve explosions. But the process was shockingly simple, a complete registration guide that took me less than two minutes. No deposit required, just my email and a created password. It was a different kind of unlock, one that didn't involve leveling up or grinding missions. It was a direct infusion of resources, a 100-credit boost that felt like finding a rare sample on an easy mission. As a live-service game, these types of supportive stratagems could be coming in a future update for my other obsession. For now, however, the make-up of the stratagems ensures each mission is typically only won by brute force. But getting that bonus reminded me that there are other systems, other games, where advancement can come from cleverness, not just carnage.

I’ve been thinking about that dichotomy a lot. In one universe, I’m a liberator of planets, a purveyor of high-explosive freedom. My success is measured in bugs splattered and objectives demolished. In the other, I’m a savvy player who knows where to find value, like that no-deposit bonus that gave me a real, tangible head start. It didn’t require me to call in an airstrike; it just required a few clicks. I have a preference, I’ll admit it. I love the chaos of a well-placed 380mm HE barrage. It’s cathartic. But I also appreciate elegance and efficiency. I’d estimate that about 85% of my playtime is spent in aggressive, damage-dealing roles because the game, in its current state, heavily incentivizes it. But that other 15% of me wonders what it would be like to deploy a stratagem that could erect a temporary forward base, or a mobile repair drone that could heal a fellow diver’s armor. Until then, I’ll keep my orbital strikes handy, and my eyes open for the next simple, rewarding unlock—whether it’s in the fires of battle or the quiet of a registration page.