A brand-new nature documentary explores the trials and tribulations of those still inhabiting the desolate hellscape known as NA CS.
My film crew and I arrive drenched with sweat, blinking from the sunlight bearing down on us in the cloudless sky. We haven’t seen anything like this, not since our visit to the deepest and driest depths of the Atacama Desert. It feels like we’re at the end of the world. Years of neglect and erosion led to this, dismal domes everywhere we look, with no championship contender in sight.
The effects of CSimate change are undeniable when you look around this desolate hellscape. The crumbling monument from Boston remains the sole tourist attraction. By now, most of the talented players were driven from their natural habitat to Valorantia or to the even more exotic lands of Europe. What’s left here is tier 2 material at best, little critters battling it out for an ever-shrinking pool of resources. The alphas in this ecosystem wouldn’t stand a chance elsewhere in the wild.
The oSee oasis is the only documented patch of greenery left for weary travelers to find. Muffled AWP shots can be heard as we make our way toward it. Thankfully, it is not a mirage. Just Mirage. The map. A discarded, moldy baguette lays next to the small patch of water. Must have been left behind by one of the last unfortunate miscreants to explore this place.
For a moment, we think back to the amenities we’ve left behind in Brazil, the four-star hotel and the girls and the deep playoff runs. We’d all wish to be back there, but we’ve got a natural disaster to document here. We soldier on, deeper into the desert, eventually reaching massive craters where big orgs used to be.
Somehow, somewhere, a low rumble of LUL can be heard.
Further in the distance, we spot the crumbled remains of the lair of an evil genius, once dominating these lands, full of energy, now long abandoned and ransacked by vultures. The only thing still intact inside is an ATM. Somehow, it seems like it’s still regularly used, but only ghosts of former CS players haunt this place, so how could they take out cash over and over again?
It’s a mystery we won’t be able to solve.
As we venture even deeper into this barren and desolate landscape, we discuss how all of this is somewhat of a return to form, NA’s ancient joke status back in the early CS:GO days, brought back again after years of mismanagement. Still, even they can’t remember the place being this abandoned, hostile to life and success alike.
The next structure we encounter is clearly a shadow of its former self, so worn down by the elements that it’s tough to recognize what it used to be. Its massive size suggests a complex of some kind, an assembly factory of massive machinery, maybe, with the solitary title win and plenty of memes rolling down from its star-shaped conveyor belts. There’s nothing for us here. We move on, venturing even deeper into NA CS.
We pass the tombstones of hundreds of thieves, the remnants of envy and greed across multiple generations. Flashpoints of potential recovery that never got off the ground. Counter to all logic, not even the greatest of misfits could manage to carve out a space for themselves here.
Our camera optics begin to fail. Soon, the rest of our equipment goes rouge, too. We’re united in our decision: it’s time to get out of here. The thing is, we’re no longer sure of the way out.
For a brief moment, nine clouds appear on the horizon, and with them, a brief hope of cover from the scorching sun. No such luck: the wind blows them all away to Eastern Europe.
