musings of a pluralistic phenomenon

At the opening turn of the game, in the setup phase, before anything happens, we both have our opening hands, our initial gameplans, and are about to start throwing spells. I take a penalty of life, two drops of my own blood, and I subtly, delicately reach out and open you up, unzipping your head like a jacket.

I reach into your brain and start riffling through your thoughts. All your cards are on the table. I take my time. You're paralyzed, just sitting there, watching me reverse engineer every idea still left in your head. Watching me calculate the critical component to extract.

Until I reach in and pluck it out. Psychic surgery. Discarded, disregarded, removed, forgotten. If I've done it right, that'll be the single most important decision of our battle. The decision you no longer get to make. I love the look of despair on your face as my choice sets in. As you calculate the implications and consequences with your pitifully imperfect information.

Majestic Myriarch

"All I wanna do is see you turn a giant woman" - Mega Froslass verison