Deck of the Day: Atarka Efreet—The Saltiest Deck That Isn’t (Literally)

Are you tired of getting wrathed, milled, combo’d, or just generally Magic’d out of existence? Looking for a deck so salty, so unplayable, so existentially frustrating that it makes even the most oppressive stax lock feel like a warm hug? Buckle up, because today’s deck isn’t just off-meta, it’s off-reality. Presenting: Atarka Efreet: The Saltiest Deck That Isn’t (Literally)—our pick for the Saltiest Deck of the Day, with a bold power level of 1 and a card count of, well, zero.

If you’ve ever wanted to see the table’s collective confusion reach a fever pitch, all while technically staying within the rules (sort of), you’re in for a treat. Or perhaps a salt lick.

The Commander: Atarka Efreet

At the helm of this deck sits Atarka Efreet. A 5/1 with morph for just three mana, Atarka Efreet offers the tantalizing prospect of unpredictability. Will your opponents block your face-down creature? Will you flip it up and deal them a whopping one extra damage? The possibilities are endless, and the stakes could not be lower.

Let’s take a closer look at the big… well, medium-sized, red creature of the hour:

Mana Cost: 3R
Creature—Efreet Shaman
Morph: 2R (You may cast this face down as a 2/2 creature for 3, turn it face up any time for its morph cost.)
When Atarka Efreet is turned face up, it deals 1 damage to any target.

In the world of Commander, where triggers rain from the heavens and value piles up like the graveyard after a board wipe, Atarka Efreet’s one damage is, let’s say, more of an amuse-bouche than a main course. Yet here, even that amuse-bouche is off the menu.

Game Plan: Unplayable Unpredictability

Here’s the deck’s strategy, in all its minimalist glory:

Draw a Starting Hand (optional; deck contains zero cards).
Contemplate the Meaning of Magic.
Pass the Turn. Forever.

That’s right: with zero cards in your deck, Atarka Efreet stands alone and unsupported, a solitary spicy snack on a plate of pure nothingness. No Lightning Bolt. No Sol Ring. No Cultivate, Chaos Warp, or even the infamous Mountain. You can’t even attempt to morph your commander, because who are you kidding? You have no lands. No mana rocks. No spells. Not even a cheeky Memnite.

What’s saltier than a deck with Winter Orb, Stasis, and Static Orb combined? A deck where you can’t even attempt to deploy those cards. Your opponents can’t counter your spells—they don’t exist. They can’t exile your permanents—you don’t have any. All they can do is watch, as you pass the turn, again and again, until you technically lose by drawing from an empty library. Or maybe you never even get that far.

This is not a deck that plays Magic; this is a deck that refuses to participate, and by so doing, frustrates the very concept of gameplay.

Power & Bracket: Why 1/10?

You might ask, “Isn’t this more of a joke than a deck?” Yes. That’s the point. With a power level of 1/10—the lowest we can mathematically and ethically assign—this deck could not win a game of Magic if its life total depended on it. And it doesn’t, because you never actually get to play.

Why the Bracket 1 placement? Because this is the floor of the Magic spectrum. The cosmic basement. In a world of broken combos, infinite loops, and back-breaking locks, this deck sits quietly in the corner, neither confirming nor denying the existence of fun. It is the ultimate salt mine: no interaction, no progression, no hope.

Should You Build It?

If you like your Magic with a side of nihilism, then perhaps this is the perfect list for you—especially if you enjoy:

Watching your friends’ faces contort in disbelief.
Demonstrating extreme deckbuilding discipline (or apathy).
Making a statement about the futility of action.
Never having to invest in expensive singles.
A guaranteed early loss and a prompt chance to shuffle up a *real* deck.

But for most players, this list serves as a cautionary tale: Salt isn’t always about oppression on the board—sometimes, it’s about the deafening sound of nothing happening at all. If Atarka Efreet could speak, it might say: “The real salt was the decklists we didn’t build along the way.”

So, should you play it? Only if you’re ready to embrace the purest essence of inaction. For everyone else: sleeve up something with actual cards, and let Atarka Efreet serve as a reminder that, sometimes, the spiciest decks are the ones best left on the counter.

DeckStir—bringing you the tastiest (and saltiest) decks, one questionable build at a time.