Havoc Eater

Goad is usually a control lever: you point an opponent's creature at someone else's board and buy yourself a turn of peace. Here the mechanic gets bent into a growth engine. The enters trigger goads a creature from each opponent, then measures the total power of everything it just redirected and banks that number as permanent counters. The result scales with the board it's punishing: in a stalled multiplayer game where everyone has parked large threats, the redirection is both the tempo play and the payoff, turning other players' beef into your own flyer's size. The counters stick even after those creatures die or the goad wears off, so the body it leaves behind is a lasting record of how threatening the table was when it landed. That coupling is the whole design idea: most goad cards want small boards so the forced attacks stay survivable, while this one wants the opposite, rewarding you for the exact clogged, oversized standoff that goad normally exists to break. Flying gives the counters somewhere useful to go, keeping the evasion relevant no matter how large the thing grows. It reads as a straightforward beater until you notice it only performs in the political, four-way sprawl it was built for; against a single opponent with a modest board, it goads one creature and pockets a modest bump, and the engine barely turns over.