Curse of Obsession
The trap is the wording, and it is the whole point: this Aura reads like a gift and functions like a leash. Two extra cards each draw step is real card advantage, the kind red normally has to reach for Wheel of Fortune symmetry to touch. But the end-step clause takes it all back, forcing the enchanted player to empty their hand every turn. What you get is a player who must spend everything they draw before their turn ends or watch it hit the graveyard, so the enchantment is less a curse laid on an opponent than a Faustian bargain offered to one. In group play the design cuts both ways depending on where you point it: aim it at a graveyard or discard-matters deck and you have handed them fuel; aim it at a durdling control shell and you have turned their careful card economy into a use-it-or-lose-it treadmill. That conditional payoff is where it parts company with a straight Underworld Dreams punisher: it does not deal damage or drain, it distorts the tempo of how one player is allowed to play the game. The friction lives entirely in sequencing, in whether the target can convert a swollen hand into board or pressure before their own end step wipes it. A political tool dressed as an advantage, built for the table where fattening an opponent's draw step can be the meaner play.
