Wojek Siren

A single white mana buys a combat trick whose size you only half-control: it spreads from one target to every creature on the board sharing that target's color, yours and your opponent's alike. Stack a mono-white field and the line detonates into a free anthem; aim it at a creature with no color allies and it collapses back into a worse Giant Growth that cost you a card. That swing is the entire point of the keyword, an early-era experiment in tying a spell's power to color identity rather than to a flat number. The catch baked into the same text is that an opponent's creatures of the matching color drink from the same buff, so a careless target can hand the swing right back across the table. Reading both sides of the board before pointing it matters more than reading your own. The mechanic rarely rewarded finesse, which is part of why it never returned as a recurring keyword: it pegs a spell's ceiling to a battlefield its caster only partly governs. Functionally it argues for monocolored aggro over a splashed shell, since the payoff scales with how tightly your creatures share a color. The distance between the free anthem and the dead trick lives in one line of oracle text, and that gap is why the card endures more as a showcase for what radiance could do than as anything you reached for to win a game.