Wormhole Warp

Reaching into an opponent's sideboard is one of the rarest things a card can ask to do, a design pocket so narrow it only lives in the wink-and-nudge corner of the game, and this one leans all the way into the chaos rather than trying to be fair. The removal half is clean and unconditional: exile target creature an opponent controls, no strings on which one or where it sits in a combat step. The rider is the punchline, and it is genuinely double-edged. Because the revealed card is cast without paying its mana cost, color does not gate it: the pile can cough up a game-ending free spell that swings the match back against you, or it can whiff into a narrow hate card with no legal target, a spell that fizzles, a permanent that does nothing on an empty board. You do not choose what they get; the randomizer does. That inverts the usual logic of interaction. A normal removal spell is priced against the board in front of you; here the decision hangs on a hidden variable, the shape of a pile you are not supposed to see, so casting it is less an evaluation than a gamble on someone else's construction. Only a corner of the game where "at random from their sideboard" reads as a punchline rather than a balance lever could produce this: funny, occasionally self-defeating, and impossible to fully evaluate without information the rules deliberately keep from you.