Eternal Dominion

Epic asked a steep question: what reward could justify surrendering every spell you will ever cast again? This is the cycle's answer at its most invasive. Ten mana to begin, then a permanent silence on your own casting; from there the engine has to win on its own, because you will never add to it by hand again. Each upkeep copies the spell (minus the Epic clause, so the lock holds), and each copy reaches into an opponent's library to pull whatever artifact, creature, enchantment, or land you most want and drop it onto the battlefield under your control. Not a draw, not a steal off the top: a tutor that resolves into control of any artifact, creature, enchantment, or land, then makes that player shuffle away what you left behind. The opponent keeps ownership the whole time, but they never get the card back, and their deck thins by your choice while your board assembles itself out of their best pieces. That is the tension Epic was built around, and this is its most aggressive expression: recurring theft of permanents bought with your entire future agency on the stack. It plays closer to a game-state than a spell, an inevitability you flip on once and then watch metabolize an opponent's library while your own hand goes inert.