Cabal Shrine

The trigger taxes redundancy. Whenever anyone casts a spell, they discard a card for every copy of that spell already sitting in graveyards across the table, which means the enchantment prices each cast by how predictable the room has become. In a singleton game it does almost nothing; in a metagame full of playsets and reusable staples, the same Fireball or Counterspell that defines a deck becomes the reason its pilot's hand empties. It reads as symmetrical and plays as anything but, since the player most committed to a four-of strategy is exactly the one it was built to gut. The design cousins are the punisher enchantments that tax the act of casting, but those count how often you cast; this one counts what everyone has already spent, turning the whole table's bin into a running tally against repetition. There is a real cost to wielding it: black wants its own graveyard stocked, yet the enchantment punishes you for refilling from the same well, so building around it means casting variety while opponents lean on their staples. That constraint keeps it a deliberate hate piece rather than a generic value engine. It sits inert while the yards are thin, then tightens into a slow execution as the copies pile up, scaling not with your own development but with how uniform the rest of the field has chosen to be.