Pest Control

Wraths come priced by what they leave standing, and this one carves the board along a mana-value seam nobody used to draw a line on: everything one drop or cheaper dies, everything two-and-up stays. That inversion is the whole design. Most sweepers scale up to catch the biggest threats and leave the cheap chaff alone; this reverses the axis, gutting the bottom of every curve while every real haymaker stands untouched. The things it kills are the things a proactive deck built to snowball on: the mana dorks that accelerate a plan, the one-drop hatebears, the token stampede, the cheap utility bodies that hold an aggressive board together. The two-mana price is what makes the seam bite: cast on time, it answers a whole aggressive opening before it compounds, and it is cheap enough to leave mana up for whatever it does not touch. The cost of that precision is obvious the moment the board fills out with two-mana threats and up, and that is where cycling earns its keep. A sweeper that hits nothing worth hitting is a card you would rather not have drawn; the cycling clause turns it into a fresh draw instead, so the sorcery that whiffs late still does honest work. It is a rare thing for a global answer to hedge its own irrelevance this cleanly. Keyed to a numeric threshold rather than a creature type or a color, it reads as narrow and plays as an escape hatch.