Squallmonger

Park a 3/3 in the middle of a table and you have installed a faucet anyone can turn on. The activated ability deals one damage to every flier and every player at once, and the cost can be paid by whoever wants the effect, not just the controller. That double symmetry is what makes it strange: the damage ignores allegiances on the board (it sweeps your fliers and theirs) and ignores allegiances at the table (an opponent can spend their own mana to ping your air force down, chip life toward lethal, or break a stalemate you are both feeding). No one holds a monopoly on it. Shared and donated activations were a recurring early-era experiment, and the open-ended levers carried by the various Monger creatures all run on the same principle: this reads less like a creature you build around than like a public utility sitting in everyone's reach. The anti-flying job gives it a defensive use, but the open activation turns it into a negotiation piece: a player losing on the ground can use it to race, while a player ahead in the air has to decide whether feeding the engine still serves them. It is a deliberately uncomfortable object, a four-drop that hands a tool to the whole room and dares each player to work out whose arithmetic it ruins first.