Blasphemous Edict

The number thirteen is doing every bit of the work here, and the design is a joke told in three parts. Sacrificing thirteen creatures at once is already a board-scouring effect that only lands when tables have overcommitted; the alternative cost that lets you pay a single black mana instead, but only when thirteen or more creatures are already on the battlefield, turns a five-mana sorcery into a one-mana reset the moment the board is fat enough to justify it. That conditional is the balancing act: the discount arrives exactly when the wipe matters most, and never when you want to point it at a small board. The each-player clause keeps it symmetrical, so the trick is engineering a lopsided aftermath: leave behind tokens you can spare, or reach thirteen through a wide go-wide plan the opponents helped build. It is a wrath that scales with the size of the problem rather than a fixed answer to any board, which is a different structural promise than the flat sweepers black usually gets. The lucky-number gimmick reads as flavor, but it is really a gating mechanism disguised as a punchline: the number has to be high enough that the cheap mode almost never triggers in fair games and almost always triggers in the games that have spiraled out of control.