Fate of Averlos [Finale + Set File Release]

White Deck Wins

“In Griff’s name, repent before my flays!”




You'll notice very quickly that White has taken a very aggressive stance this block - almost like White weenie, except why there is a White card with haste?!

That's right, folks, White has traded overall P/T efficiency for gaining the aggressive keywords and methods of Red, becoming a color of sheer aggression and force as it focuses on honing its old White Weenie tendencies towards this new outlook. To emulate Red's burn, White has taken on a greater to things like combat-based burn like Sandblast and Sangrodelver, torching creatures and players alike with its holy wrath as it leaps straight for the opponent's throat. As you go through the set, you'll find that White has also become less picky about evasion due to a lessened presence of its usual control elements and more inefficient bodies - Skulk, Menace, and Prowess all make themselves comfy in White as the pacifist turned templar attempts to hurl opponents out of its way.

Speaking of keywords, let's look at Rebirth, a mechanic featured on Steelform Lancer. This mechanic replaces Regenerate to further showcase the "alternate timeline" feel of Fate of Averlos, and it will mostly be showing up in :B::r::w::g:. Be on the lookout for cards that trigger on leaving the battlefield or dying - as a block that favors lots of combat and killing, you will find that happens a lot on Averlos.

"But Zephyr only really old MtG Red gets regenerate!" Don't worry, we'll get to that.

Suicide Blue

“There’s no time for further research. We need results now or we die.” — Piberdo



It seems that Blue has quite literally lost its mind, and rightfully so - this version of Averlos has been torn apart by constant war, to the point that the color once based on the future has given all hope, becoming a much more aggressive pastiche of Black in its attempts to survive the the constant onslaughts on its sanity. As it thrists for knowledge more than life, Blue emphasizes constantly drawing and dicarding cards to fuel its effects - however, letting the game continue on for too long will cause a Blue player to find themselves short of options. More aggressive keywords like Menace and Rifttouch make their home in Blue, allowing them to clear away the field as quickly as possible to try and go back to dealing damage.

...wait, Zephyr, Rifttouch? Aha, yes. For you see, Blue is too civilized to destroy things, is it not? Death is completely unfitting of its mentality, but nothing stops it from denying the opponent as much as possible until it's beaten them to death. This keyword is exclusive to Blue and represents its aggressive attempts to bounce the enemy field away while remaining true to its core.

Black Control

“Come with me if you refuse to die.”



Black, on the other hand, has become frustrated with its constant attempts to kill and kill and kill. No matter how much it slaughters, no matter how much blood it pays, new enemies rise up to assault it over and over again. Thus, Black carefully begins to sit and machinate, finding an increased need to defend and value its own allies, become a pastiche of Blue as it tries to bring logical sense back to the war-torn plane. This Black is the true "self-sacrificing hero" - its allies aren't afraid to throw away their lives if it means just one more turn to pull out a bigger win condition. More defensive keywords like Vigilance and Hexproof edge cautiously into Black, having been forsaken by their original users in favor of more aggressive terms. Black is still a killer, but it kills defensively now, hoping for the day it can come out of hiding to become the age old terrifying tyrant once more...

You'll also notice that Lingering Sisters is one of those LTB/die engines I referenced earlier in White. Here, we get to take a look at Vengeful, which features an unusual counter type - +1/-1 counters! Indeed, to return from the brink of death in the hell that is Averlos, you'll need to endure the burning pain of your dying rage - Vengeful thus acts as both a buff and a tradeoff, making your creature more aggressive but also easier to kill at the same time. Vengeful primarily appears in :u::b::r:, with Black ironically being the most defensive applicant of it in this context.

Red Stompy

“The more dangerous it is, the more Master Wind wants it to happen.”

So all that aggression has gone to White. What's Red to do?



Why, take Trample, its big fellows, and outbulk its opponents, of course! Red pursues the route of expanding on its bigger dudes, emulating Green in hopes of mastering the art of ramping up to those giant midrange stompies every creature-focused player loves. Due to its aggressive nature (and the overall aggressive environment of Fate of Averlos), it shifts slightly less than the rest of its brethen, but as you can tell by Vigilance and high toughness over power, it attempts to take a more balanced view on combat, allowing itself to strike but also to defend against the smaller guys trying to smack into it.

The Red cards here also are an excellent example of showing that not all of the bleeds were a straight swaps to other colors - as you might have noticed, Red has acquired hostile discard to help reinforce its control options due to a reduced focus on burn!


Green Weenie

“We are born to be wielded.”



Lastly, we have Green, who has taken its permanent-focused mentality in the direction of cold, hard steel as it emulates White, the color of weenie aggression. Green of this world does not want things to be - rather, it wants the other colors to be the way it thinks it should be. To impose this order, it charges valiantly with its soldier of the forest, infusing buffs in the form of Equipment and empowering its Lifesteel-blessed kin with the power of Metalcraft! As a side of effect of this new imposing stance, Green loses keywords like Trample and Fight in favor of more 'refined' keywords like first strike and flying.

"Wait, what, FLYING? Zephyr, that's a complete color pie break!" Woah, woah, hold your horses! If you take a look at cards like Silhana Ledgewalker and Orchard Spirit, you'll notice that Green often gets the ability "~ can't be blocked except by creatures with flying or reach"! To mimic this in Fate of Averlos, Green simply cuts out the middleman and has its creatures gain flying whenever it attacks! Likewise, as demonstrated by Bladesteel Banefencer, first strike (and the rare occurence of double strike) are often conditional and rarely seen as easily acquired in this format - in fact, Green's main source of evasion has become Deathtouch, a keyword new to this alternate timeline!

Animara woke up in a dark cold room, rubbing her head in pain. She jolted up almost immediately as her vampire eyes adjusted to the dark area; outside the iron grated door stood a face that she knew all too well, except his wrathful frown had been replaced with a pitiful furrow.

"I did not know another wielder of the Azure Lifesteel existed, young lady. Why did you use it to try to harm our leader?! He could've killed you, him and his horde of knights! You are fortunate I was present at all!"

Animara could only open her mouth in shock. "Are you...Teurla?"



The main recoiled in shock and put his hand on his blade at his mention - the two knight standing next to him almost did the same but he intervened by yelling "HOLD!"

"I...how do you know my name?!" He spoke softly, shocked.

Animara shook her head, as her sharp eyes noticed a fully armored woman quietly look around the corner, then nervously slide back. "I...I knew you. I fought alongside you. But...why the change in your demeanor?"

Teurla frowned in distrust. "I do not know anyone with your face, vampire. You hold Lifesteel of the Commune, that I do know; perhaps you merely fought as a Lieutenant? Our new leader is even stricter on protocol..."



"No, Teurla, I was the Lifesteel Vanguard! Animara Vectis! Last time-" She stopped, as a look of realization dawned on her face. "....I see. Time."

Flickers of visions briefly appeared into her eyes as she spoke this statement - in one timeline, this was a weapons storage room. In another, it was the room Argonia had given as a quarter when Aurum had taken her in. In this one... it was a prison.

Teurla seemed extremely suspicious now, so she held her hands up in a pleading gesture. She could leave anytime she wanted, she realized, but it didn't seem that the Griff of this timeline (who had naturally attacked her on the spot) knew that (yet). "Please, wait! I understand now. I come from a different..." she stopped, pausing. How could she explain she was from a parallel time? It was hard enough to explain being a Planeswalker. "...world."

The knight's eyes widened, but he sheathed his sword. "Could it be... you are one of the many Griff preached to when Aurum was still our leader? Do you still believe in the old ways?"

(Close enough.) She muttered inwardly, as her mind turned to the more alarming parts of his statment. "Yes, I believe that the Commune is a force for peace, Sir Teurla! But...what is this? What do you mean by 'old ways'? Where is Grand Seer Aurum?"

Teurla shifted, looking uncomfortable. "I...should not say."

"Please!" Animara pleaded. "I come here to speak with him, not to cause trouble. If there is anyone I could reason with, it would be-"

"He was killed."

"In battle?" Animara's heart began to beat a little faster - even thought she realized this was an alternate timeline, the Commune seemed similar enough that it struck her as very odd that Aurum would ever go into battle. "I thought Aurum was a man of peace?"

"He was. To the very end." Teurla replied solemnly. "He and his disciples paid the ultimate price."



"Our leader is now in a better place. I wish I could help you more, Disciple of the Commune, but if you can retreat back to your other world, now would be the best time to do so. This is no longer the Commune of love; I plead with Griff every day to stop our pointless crusade against the Academy, but-"

"No." Animara stood up, willing her Lifesteel to response. The knights beside Teurla, sensing it, stepped up again in response, but he held them back as she kneeled in prayer.

"The Lifesteel I know is kind. The Lifesteel I know does not want death. The Lifesteel... I can hear it even now. It does not want this bloodshed you seek, and has been twisted by someone beyond your control. As one of the Commune, I feel it my right to help bring peace to our kind."



As she prayed, her Azure Lifesteel roared to life, shrieking and twisting in her mind as she heard it cry for blood - bloodlust that she had never felt before in the Commune. She whispered prayers of love, of justice, of kindness....prayers she knew from many years ago, some of the first she had learned. As if soothed by her voice, the steel rang gently, whispering platitudes of gratefulness until it was silent once more. In her hand lay Mitsurugi, her Kamigawa forged blade once more, ready for action.

Teurla seemed calmed and impressed. "You truly are of the old Commune." He replied softly, bowing his head in respect. "A skilled craftswoman, too. I can see why they picked you."

"Thank you." Animara replied, stepping towards the man. "Teurla of this world, will you follow me into battle? To make this Commune wave the flags of peace once more?"

Her heart fell as he shook his head. "I would be foolish to oppose the new leader beyond the mercy I have granted you. Go, Animara Vectis. I give you my blessings as the Lifesteel Champion, but that is all I can do. If you seek resistance, look to the Academy. Perhaps they will have discovered another solution by now."

"I see." Animara replied, bowing in respect as she prepared to planeswalk to the Blind Eternies and back. "Cadiem Honis, Lifesteel Champion."

"Cadiem Honis, Lifesteel Vanguard of another world."

Teurla bit his fangs in dread as he heard heavy metal clanks approaching his direction, and turned to his guards. "Let us pray that Templarius Griff accepts our explanation that we are unfamiliar with those from other worlds."

"Regardless of the century, plane, or species, developing artificers never fail to invent the ornithopter."
- Ornithopter (Mirrodin printing)

---

Development Log
Plane ID: 785-069-54b (Averlos)
Reporter: Crn. Breeze
Returned: 6.192.330, Cycle of Endings

Potential critical point located. Three artificers, all brothers (henceforth designated "Alpha", "Beta" and "Gamma"), have been identified collaborating on a flying machine of undisclosed nature. Colleague reactions have been skeptical, bordering on scornful at times. All personalities, pressures and situational factors are consistent with the imminent invention of the ornithopter.

---

Development Log
Plane ID: 785-069-54b (Averlos)
Reporter: Crn. Breeze
Returned: 6.192.335, Cycle of Endings

Alpha and Beta have spent the last few days producing patterns for their machine. Designs and materials are not fully consistent with any of the five recognized classes of ornithopter development, but currently lean strongly towards Dominaria-class. Gamma has begun work on a lightweight superstructure, of a density and shape that should be airworthy. It's a bumpy ride, but it looks like they're getting there.

---

Development Log
Plane ID: 785-069-54b (Averlos)
Reporter: Crn. Breeze
Returned: 6.192.337, Cycle of Endings

The design has swung in an odd direction; it now appears to incorporate elements of Volaria- and Kaladesh-class ornithopters, and is no longer recognizable as broadly Dominaria-class as it was two days ago. The new design seems to lack any kind of structural integrity, and none of the artificers, formerly displaying competence consistent with that which has historically been necessary to develop powered flight, appear perturbed by the development.

---

Development Log
Plane ID: 785-069-54b (Averlos)
Reporter: Crn. Breeze
Returned: 6.192.343, Cycle of Endings

Alpha and Gamma have begun to augment the frame with all manner of armaments and decorations, as though building an engine of war. The ornithopter prototype is so heavy that it cannot possibly take off, and test flights of a partly-assembled model have ended in failure, but only Beta seems aggrieved - the other two insist that their "anthems" will make it fly. It is possible that this design's workings will have a spiritual dimension to it, like the Innistrad-class ornithopter, but I have found no evidence in their diagrams to support this. I find it more likely that I am witnessing a failed attempt.

---

Developmental Anomaly Report
Incident Number: 0218-4132-9383-7664
File Code: 403/C (Technological: Locomotion - Aerospace)
Plane ID: 785-069-54 (Averlos)
Reporter: Crn. Breeze

It flies. They got the thing off the ground somehow. What. What. Seriously wh

---

Developmental Anomaly Report
Incident Number: 0218-4132-9383-7664, addendum
File Code: 403/C (Technological: Locomotion - Aerospace)
Plane ID: 785-069-54 (Averlos)
Reporter: Crn. Breeze

Apologies for the brevity of the previous report. The surprise of seeing this machine in action appears to have briefly compromised my mental faculties. I have now recovered and am able to describe, in full, what has happened.

The machine the Averlos artificers have built is clearly meant to be some kind of aeronautical vessel, and is equipped with all the correct tools, but its mass and its unusual shape render it wholly unable to take off. As soon as it is launched, it becomes unstable and crashes, half-destroying itself in the process.

Yet it flies. Its systems seem to react well to all manner of external stimuli, including those not originally intended to affect works of artifice, and, even when presented with something as esoteric as a battle hymn or simply strong winds, it surpasses all of its obvious mechanical defects and flies anyway. Without any visible means of support. It's impossible. It literally, physically cannot be doing this. The laws of artifice appear to be as twisted here as the laws of the five categories of mana. I find it almost impossible to process.

Unrelated, requesting transfer.

Animara could only stare in horror at the charred ruins of what had been the largest Darkblade community. The smell of burnt ash wafted through her nostrils, as thick as a gloomy fog. It seemed the Griff of this timeline wasn't very interested in taking survivors - the mere thought of it caused her to grit her teeth and utter a silent prayer, hoping for answers she knew her Lifesteel couldn't give her.

Without Aurum to keep him in check, Griff had clearly found the concept of free speech pointless. She briefly considered how it could've happened, then brushed that thought aside. It didn't matter anymore, especially when her counterpart on the plane was strangely absent and in its place stood a pacifist Teurla too afraid to object to his brutal superior. For now, she had to start building a resistance of her own.; if Griff's army ran on fear and hate, she'd have to find a force that ran on much greater empathy.



Her ears caught the sound of sobbing of a young child's voice. Running towards the charred hut to her right, she soon discovered a sobbing girl clutching what appeared to be the remains of a dirty stuffed toy.



"Hush...don't cry." She spoke in the most calming voice she could think of, picking up the sobbing girl - she was too big to be cradled, so Animara pulled her into a hug. "Are you alright?"

The girl stiffened, as if suddenly realizing she was being held by someone else, pushed her away. Animara's lifesteel rang in alarm, the sinister whisper of bloodlust attempting to corrode its panic, but she silenced it once more and tried to stand still. "Please, I-"



"You need to leave!" The girl yelled, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Please - they killed my mother, my father...everyone in my village! Griff burned down all the surrounding villages - we don't have anywhere left to farm, so I had to steal for my family! They're coming for me! I'm so sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorr-"

Before Animara could make the connection, a clean white blade erupted through the girl's chest, followed quickly by its owner, a sinister beaked Aven that eyed her coldly as she heard a clank of another knight appear behind her, as she heard a blade drawn.

The practices, the signature swish of the sword combined with the odd lefthanded style....she knew this style. It was the signature style of Averlos's Freeblades, knights that declared themselves bound to no true faction, swearing the rest of their life to errantry.



Except this time, she didn't even need the warlike cry in her Lifesteel to tell that this, too, was all wrong.



"So Griff was right about you." The knight from behind her spoke. "You favor the heathens."

"If that's what you think, I'm already beyond convincing you." Animara atempted to draw her sword, only for everything to go black - truly, truly black. Her muscles stiffened - she felt no blindfold, and the screams of panic from the knights as she heard their retreating footsteps meant that they clearly hadn't blindfolded her either.

She stood alert,turning around as she her three more foosteps - considerably lighter this time - enter.

"Miss, are you- wait! Put the sword down! You've been cursed!"

"I...oh, goodness." Animara's mind whirled in anger as she forced the Lifesteel to quiet down. In the midst of its pulsating rage, she hadn't been able to focus and realize she'd been under the effect of some kind of....fog. She couldn't quite describe it, but the sensation had been similar.



When she came to, she saw three more of the strange Freeblades. One, a demon, had stooped down in prayer as he began to dig a shallow grave for the girl. The eldest one, seemingly their leader, came up to her, his sword at the ready, as the firey one, an elemental seemingly hesistant to intervene, pulled out a strange device of Volarian design and whispered "Master Wind..."

"Wind?" Animara thought in surprise. "Why would he ever come here?"



She had more immediate concerns to address, as the elderly leader looked at her. "Look, madam." He started, his free hand taking out a spellbook. "I don't know who you are, but if you're not on our side, we-"

"Wait, Kyrto." The demon, who had buried the corpse by then, stood up and walked over to Animara. "Doesn't she match up with the descriptions of the rumored otherworlder? A beautiful vampire dressed in Darkblade colors but oddly knowledgeable about the Commune?"

"They say Griff taught her on that other world." The man shot back. "I don't know how deeply she's been brainwashed."

"I can assure you I wasn't brainwashed. In fact, I come from another Averlos." Animara interrupted, studying the man's robes. "You are of the Academy, correct? We hold you in equally high regard on that world; enough where we broker a steady peace. I presume that wasn't the case here, but to me, the Commune looks like the aggressor." She knew that she was increasingly flubbing her "other world" story as it passed between ears, but perhaps it was for the better; the less people understood about proper Planeswalking (and her newfound time travel capabilities, which she clearly had zero knowledge of), the better.

"Alright." Kyrto replied coldly, his hands gripping the blade. "You seem aware of the Academy, at least. But how can I believe you are on our side?"

"Because if I was ready to mindlessly slaughter like Griff had commanded, I would've dispelled the curse and killed those fleeing knights." Animara replied, pointing to the knocked down wall they had approached from - she was noticing more and more details as she got used to quieting her pained Lifesteel. "You saw it, did you not? I had just seen that girl, only for her to be killed by Griff's knights before I could understand what happened."

"He has a point, Kyrto." The elemental interjected, closing his device and hiding it in a pouch. "Master Wind says that he too has not heard of any Worldshifters that have truly brought into Griff's pathetic blabber. He is well versed in the worlds."

The old man shook his head. "Such unsteady trust we form these days on unprovable facts. But I suppose I have no choice but to give you a chance."

"Thank you, good sirs." Animara bowed. "I can offer you this as well - there are currently those in the Commune hoping to defect, but they do not feel we can overpower Griff. How fares the resistance on this plane?"

At the word "resistance", Kyrto and the elemental glares at each other. The Demon, sensing the rising tension, stepped forward.

"Well...you see, it is rather splintered, Worldshifter. As you can see the Darkblades are gone. Decimated. What remains of them has been absorbed into the Academy, but we've found ourselves short on manpower. A new resistance force consisting of elementals claiming to be from the depths of our plane has emerged." He nodded towards the elemental, who appeared to not react. "However, we are...at odds with their leader's methodology. Headmaster Piberdo says the other "Wind" leader is too headstrong and likely to become worse than Griff, without any encouragement to restrain himself."

"Master Wind's heart is just." The elemental retorted. "He sees the pain we feel from every life lost on this plane, and seeks to avenge it."

"Vengeance...does not necessary equate to justice." Animara replied cautiously. This wasn't her first time on an alternate timeline, but she knew full well from The Multiverse Race that acting casually in a world she didn't know could cause some hostile reactions. "In any case, I would like to meet Piberdo first. I am...more familiar with the trappings of the Academy, if I had to be honest."

"Fair enough." Kyrto replied. "Be that it may, we were supposed to meet another Worldshifter here to - one that owes a favor to Piberdo. She was going to help reinforce the Academy defenses."



"And here I ammmmm!" A high pitched but familiar voice rang out as a massive tank crashed out of nowhere next to the group! Animara drew her sword, but the Kyrto groaned and signaled for her to stand down. "I see Piberdo did not joke about her...eccentricities..."



"That's right!" The hatch of the tank opened and a girl dressed in a brown trenchcoat and fedora leaped out, striking a pose as she landed on the ground. Despite the lack of glasses and her attractively tall stature, the short blonde hair and pale green eyes immediately tipped Animara off to who she was.

"So guys, ready to build the greatest barrier in all of Averlos?" She started, then stopped short, staring in Animara in awe. "Woaaaaah! This timeline has an Animara too!"

"It's taken me some time to find this information... I originally thought that Truespeak was the most dangerous thing I would ever encounter." Rowen pauses, pacing back and forth within what appears to be a small library, a single scroll sitting upon a desk here. He pauses for a moment as he collects his thoughts. "But then I found something that was capable of warping my own abilities... capable of twisting the very fabric of time. Truespeak can rewrite the world, but the Wraith would be capable of doing the same by twisting the past - and in a way that even someone with full mastery of the Tongue of Origin could never hope to match, let alone counter. So I decided... I needed to research it. Or, rather, her... Animara Vectis, of Averlos."

Rowen pauses again, looking down at the scroll - looking at the words that have formed on it, a perfect transcript of his words. "There's some information available about her history, though it's scattered and fragmented - as if time itself can't decide on what actually happened. Even her true name is muddled, seeming to change whenever I think I've finally pinned it down. And her world... somehow, it's just as splintered, with the words that define its very existence seeming to overlap and twist chaotically. I don't know if it's due to her altering the past, or perhaps something has already been altered and she's trying to set it on its proper course. Or perhaps the world is meant to exist in multiple ways." A sigh, as he shakes his head.

"Still, as muddled as it is, I've filtered out some useful information... apparently, Animara isn't the only powerful individual on Averlos - there are several others who have quite a bit of strength, and would be worth remembering should I ever visit there." Rowen ponders, calling up an image of five individuals. Two clearly avian forms, one a cloaked figure that is vaguely vulpine, one a sallow-skinned woman in heavy armor, and one a shadow-shrouded humanoid. "These five are worth remembering in particular, due to their unique talents... and their determination, as they seem willing to keep coming back so long as they still have a cause to fight for." Thinking for a moment, he allows the image to focus on one of the avians - a large bird, not humanoid at all, whose feathers mix black, orange and crimson in a pattern that evokes smoke and flame.



After considering a moment, the image next focuses on the vulpine figure.



Glancing at the scroll for a moment to ensure that the information is still being recorded, Rowen focuses then on the armored woman.



Rowen then gestures, causing the image to focus on the shadowy figure - upon close inspection, it is clearly a demonic entity of some form.



Finally, Rowen turns his focus to the second avian - this one a green-feathered humanoid.



Nodding to himself, Rowen causes the images to vanish with a gesture. "These five, heroes within their own forces, have just as much potential to shape the flow of the world as any planeswalker. I can only wonder whether they are so prominent in this timeline because of Animara's presence, or if perhaps she is there because of them. It may be just coincidence... but I can only wonder. I will try to keep reading what I can from Averlos, though - and I'll hope that Animara's presence there is meant to help, rather than hinder." With a careless wave of his hand, he causes the scroll to roll itself up, before walking out of the small room, contemplating the events already seen on Averlos - and what is yet to come there.

Today's spoiler theme is cycles! Every plane and designer inevitably develops predilections for patterns for players to peruse - some span sets, others promote archetypes, and some stand on their own, making a bold statement about the state of their set.

But before we get to that, let's take a look at the card thehuw spoiled previously - Pteropter:



For a set where dying matters, you'd expect to this to be a pretty simple fit for an Uncommon. Grab it, watch it flounder a bit, and then blow it up to trigger something like the lifegain of Lingering Sisters.

...come on, did you really expect me to give our resident Arc-:uncommon: master such a straightfoward :uncommon:? As Huw hinted at in his post, there is an anthem or two in this set. You might remember this series of very notable :uncommon:s from Magic 2015:



Well, they've returned for Fate of Averlos, albeit not as the Paragons of their history. No, instead, they are the defiers, the rebels against the system, those that would break its very limits to push their colors to greater heights. They are to be feared; boundaries mean little to them, respect even less so. They are:

I landed on the ground lightly, the foreign soil crunching beneath my feet. And an instant after, the smell of charred fabric assaulted my nose. Grimacing, I looked around the barren landscape, only to realize that I was the source of the smell. Sure enough, when I looked down at my cloak, a huge portion was blown out, the edges still embering.

Pits, I thought, throwing it to the ground, stomping out the embers. That was my favorite coat! I had thought that I escaped the summoner before her spell had hit me. Apparently not.

Luckily my encounter with her didn't just end up with my cloak being destroyed. It also gave me two valuable pieces of information.

First, and probably most pertinent, Singularity wasn't on the plane, which meant that Baatar's time rift sent me to the wrong place, despite him swearing left and right that it wouldn't. I would be sure to let him know how wrong that was once I got back from whatever timeline I was dropped in. Forcefully.

And what a worrying timeline it was. I never had the opportunity to visit Averlos in Multiverse Prime, but I had heard many good things about it, and...interesting things about it's resident planeswalker, Animara. Unfortunately, it didn't look like that this Averlos was anything like the one in Prime.

The summoner was proof of that. I don't know what I expected to see when I came across her, but a new spell wasn't it. It had the familiarity of some of the spells I used, but at the same time, it was wrong.

Binding a creature out of nothing but bones and aether? It wasn't terribly odd – I had seen necromancy plenty of times before. But something about how she did it was strange.

I squatted down, and began to draw the symbol I had seen engraved in the creatures head. Once it was completed, I sat back, studying its intricacies. In a few moments, my...skills had done their job, and I sat back in awe. There was no doubt about it now. Magic had developed differently on this Averlos differently than any other timeline I had been in. Perhaps this was one of the timelines that bled into Dominaria directly before the Mending?

This binding rune didn't seem like anything of that sort, though. Even in this Averlos, it had a tinge of foreign-ness, as if its origin wasn't the timeline it was now present on.

Shaking my head, I stood up. Now was no time to become philosophical. Singularity was in this timeline, I was sure of it. Not only that, but this was Animara's plane. Although I had never come across her personally, I had heard how she was...unfavorable of other planeswalkers messing around in time. Not that I had any choice.

Still, it was better to not meet than try to explain that to her. Breathing in deeply, I let the Blind Eternities consume me, and left Averlos to whatever fate it had, leaving my best wishes. A strange sense of forlorn-ness filled me, but I couldn't help the plane. This was Animara's fight, not mine.

Of course, I was also slightly happy. After all, I had gotten a new spell out of the visit. New knowledge was always welcome. Especially one that came from an alternate reality.

The Lifesteel cleans. The Lifesteel cleans.



Borlial watched solemnly as the ethereal flames flickered and danced from the explosions of the spellmines, cleansing the world of the filthy heathens. It was a blessing, an honor to do this sacred work, to clean the souls of the vile as a prestigious champion of the Commune. He had helped purify so many, and some of the worthy even bowed to the might of the Lifesteel's serene grace, making their beautiful hymn its own.

Lifesteel cleans. Lifesteel cleans. Lifesteel cleans.



Borlial did not understand why the heathens resisted. Some were strong. Others were beautiful. All would have their best brought out in them by the Lifesteel. Even the inferiors held their place as cleaned, honored citizens of society. None needed to eat. None needed to...think. The purging was all that mattered.

Lifesteel clean. Lifesteel clean. Lifesteel clean. Lifesteel clean.



When Borlial tried to think, he could not remember much. He knew that he was once a very bad person. But he had been saved, like many others. Saved by their blessed Leader, Griff. He remembered the hawk's soothing growl speaking to him, telling him promises of servitude and the great joy he would feel in cleaning others.

Steelclean steelclean steelclean steelclean steelclean



He shuddered as a strange emotion washed over his metal feathers, then felt delight as the hymns began to sing again. This must be the joy of the purification.

Cleancleancleancleancleancleanclean



Borlial didn't need to think. He felt so good. So clean. Others deserved this feeling. He too would make them feel

“So, Ander”, Drael screamed off the top of her lungs to cover the whirring of the engines, “what do you think about this new rover!?”

“I’m impressed”, the short wizard clad in red robes dully answered, as he clung to his seat for dear life.

“Oh, come on!”, Drael shrieked. “Could you try sounding a bit more enthusiastic!?”

“I would, if only we weren’t being chased by hostile natives right now. If you had just let me talk to them, we…”

“Whoa!” The rover suddenly swerved as Drael narrowly avoided a sharp rock, creating wavelets in the water. “Boy, that was a close one!” But now, they were headed on a course of collision with another one. Drael pressed a button, and shot it out of the way, disintegrating it. “No time to waste”, she thought.

Ander closed his eyes sighed deeply, but not in relief. “So… what’d you name this one? It has a name, right?”

“I call this one Jim! It can turn into a ball and goes really fast...but it falls into the water if I’m not constantly piloting it.” Drael expressed her displeasure towards this particular feature of Jim with a wailing sound which sounded approximately like this: “Uwaaaaah...”

Ander tried his best to ignore the hated sounds. He concentrated on the whirring of Jim’s engines instead, which helped drown the wailing. “That… that honestly sounds like a design flaw, Drael. Is Jim an incomplete prototype, or did you just want him to be more similar to a shark?”

“Uh… Little bit of column A, little bit of column B.”

“Ah, I don’t… Hey, watch out, cliffs ahead.”

“Uwaaaaah!!!”

“Oh, no, please, not the sounds. Not the sounds again…”

“I heard that!”

Much later in the timeline…

There were many rovers to which Drael had connected a net of memories of her past. Looking at Jim again brought her mind to that moment, from before the incident. She couldn’t bear to be like that with Ander anymore. She could barely manage to be near him. If he had been here, her morale would be sinking, her joy extinguished. But there was only Jim there. Jim was an happy memory. Drael had no interest in lingering with her thoughts on what happened with Ander long after that. She became sombre for a split second, but she didn’t dwell in sadness: she simply reminisced. And perhaps… times as happy as Jim’s heyday could come again. The thought brought a smile to her face. Not with Ander, though. Never again.

She turned to face Animara and grinned. “Alright, we’ve got to go over a lake next to reach Piberdo! Tell me, Animara… Are you ready to roll!?”

Entry log 2547: We are running out of resources to synthesize new thrulls and have turned to mass hallucinations to bolster our forces.



Piberdo has recalled us. I am grateful, for negotations with the remnants have problem troublesome. The deserters from both remaining sides have little desire to return. Most would rather meet us with pointed tooth, fang, and spear.



They probably expected the headmistress to storm out herself, but it was I, Rijo. Believe or not, that woman does have a sensible side, even if it has to be dragged out of her.



In any case, I make my return from the last remnants of the Darkblades, led by a pitiful figurehead that would rather sleep than resist. We've rounded up every Darkblade willing to join us, so I suppose the only Darkblades left are the ones that would rather run and hide.



The only hope we can now hope for is that of an otherworlder's aid. But will the ones I've heard rumors of be able to cooperate?

One thing you should know about me: I can't stand color pie bending. Don't even get me started on breaks.

So when I asked for a spoiler for FoA? I wasn't quite sure what I was going to get.

Luckily, Zephyr did not disappoint.

---

One thing I've never done that I've always wanted to do is make a colorless EDH deck. There are so many sweet cards you get to play, and it doesn't feel like you're just shoehorning them into the deck. Rather, it feels like you're building the deck specifically for them, which I love.

A common theme in the colorless cards I'd love to play is that they all cost approximately 10000 mana. Between multiple Emrakuls, Ulamogs, and Kozileks, Myr Battlesphere, Platinum creatures, and more, there's a lot of mana to be spent. That means I'd love to have access to as many copies of this effect as possible:



Unfortunately, that card is green, which very much means not colorless. Luckily, Zephyr has me covered (albeit, for a bit more investment):



This gets really fun with artifact recursion, which you're actually allowed to run in colorless decks! It's not the most efficient card, but it's an effect just waiting to be broken, and it lets me play Emrakul on turn five. That's enough for me to love it.

{Plots that Span Timelines}"They've arrived too quickly, Ms. Vectis. Wind will not reach us in time; assuming he even wants to."

"Wait, what do you mean?!"

"I mean they're breaching the walls as we speak. Go. You'll have to settle for avenging us."



"How did they-?"

"A mystery for the ages - they shouldn't be able to sense twisted steel, like the ones we use or the ones you possess. Go!"

"But-"

"GO! And if you care, let no one forget our story."



======================

"....no, this isn't right. I want to try something, but I need to check."

======================

"It's as I thought. You didn't come in time, Wind... so you could slaughter the remnants of the Lifesteel assault force."

"They deserved it - hypocritical overlords, sending their pawns out into a slaughter. With all the pawns gone, Griff will be even more vulnerable."

"The Commune always has advantage in numbers, and I assume it does in this time as well. What would Arina say of your foolishness?"

"...I hope you don't speak her name again, Lifesteel turncoat, for your own good."

"You words would've phased me in another life."

"Then perhaps this will phase you instead!"



======================

"So the Wind of this timeline lacks sympathy. Wonderful." I finally take a deep breath in the Blind Eternities, as the mask attaches to my face and I witness my hands turn back into sand once more. "And on top of that, his Arina is nowhere to be found, save for a crude grave on Volaria without a corpse..."

"If I had any less of a care for the timeline, I could go back into the past and just shank this timeline's Griff before he ever sparked." I ponder, as I stop suppressing my Lifesteel and let the mana flow through it once more. Its song has quieted back into a more quiet, peaceful hum, having left that blasted pastiche of Averlos. "But Delkor was a bit too drastic for my taste. I don't think going even further is wise - what if I stray so far from the main timeline that I completely lose my way? I don't wish to be the sole judge of what's right and wrong. Vis taught me the dangers of that."

I tap a sandy finger on my chin as an idea begins to dawn on me. "Perhaps what isn't needed is a judge, but a jury."

======================

"Hello, Animara. It has been a while since we've all heard from you. Are you well?"



"Well enough. I could use your assistance on a matter concerning Wind, actually..."

"Wind? I did not realize you had ran into him on the way here...how is he?"

"Wait wait wait. It's not the Wind we know...but I do require someone that knows him very well."

"...I do not follow. My apologies."

"Well, let's sit a while and talk. Are you familiar with the alternate timelines created by Tolarian time rifts?"

(BGM: Heroic Confrontation)

"The chance to set another timeline went wrong to a better state... are you certain of this, Animara?"

"I wouldn't say we're warping another timeline. But I will say we're perhaps changing this Wind's fate."

"It hurts you to seem him like that, does it not?"

"Wouldn't it hurt you more, Arina? I merely deeply respect the man, after all."

"It is hard not to argue with that, Animara; I just want to be absolutely certain this is for the best."

"I could save the alternate Averlos in a thousand more ways, and many of them would be far more tyrannical. Respecting the timeline should require some finesse, but I've already made more severe changes to it and they were permitted. I think making a small change to give everyone a second chance is worth it, especially in a dismal situation like this."

"Very well. It's like the Terrarna saying, is it not? Two steps backward..."

"One step forward."



========================================

"WIND!" The vampire's shout roars across time itself, to an hour before that fateful moment.

"You! You're the vamp-" Wind stops, looking on in horror as if he's seen a ghost. "That face... what illusion is this, Worldshifter?!"

"It's not an illusion!" Arina replies. "Wind, please..."

"Vanguard Croscres, ma'am!"

"Report, soldier. What brings you here?"



"We have found... a strange message, while scavenging the villages for any Lifesteel they may have wanted to use against us. We first thought it written by those heathen Darkblade, but it appears to have been foolproofed by magic far too advanced for their vile minds."

"...continue. Does this have to do with my dop-... I mean, the vampire we are pursuing?"

"No, ma'am. We suspect it may have something to do with that Wind mage that has rallied the apostates of flame around him. The message mentions him, and asks of his wellbeing, signed by an "Arina"."



"...I see. But did the spies not report an "Arina" arriving on Averlos?"

"We suspect it to be a deceitful Worldshifter as well, much like the one Templarius Griff was unable to contain. As for the details...perhaps it is best you read the message yourself, ma'am."

As the vanguard finished reading the message, she removed her Lifesteel Helmet and placed it down along the closed scroll, her black bangs revealing a familliar yet gentler countenance as her eyes drifted up to the cold, verdant biometal ceiling.

"We have killed so many this war. Children, wives...innocents. For the sake of what? Extra bits of Lifesteel that only encourage our enemies to warp it into even more vile forms?"



"'Cadiem Honis' - the will of the right. Griff says he carries this right, and the Lifesteel has fervently agreed with him, pushing his name into the frenzy of their song."

"But with all this blood we have shed for this supposed paradise...is this really a song I can accept?"

"Reconsider?" Wind scoffed, as unearthly shrieks pierced the air - in the blink of an eye, Arina and Animara found themselves surround by leering birds of flame, one of whose eyes burned brighter than the rest. "Tell me why I should not have Lucira burn you where you stand for such a cruel trick."



"Please, Wind!" Arina spoke again, causing Wind to flinch as if he'd seen a ghost. "I am no effigy; Animara here is..." she paused, looking for the correct words. "...a woman who can walk through time."

At this, Wind seems to alternate between bristling and keeping his face from contorting into a nasty snarl, as if putting the pieces together while trying to suppress a vile thought. "And in that timeline, do I die instead? Do only you live?"

"Wind is... well...I had hoped to convince you to not lose faith." Arina continued, holding a hand to stop Animara from forming a sandy claw. "The transceiver, did you...?"



"Yes...I tried the transceiver. Nothing." Wind nodded grimly to the phoenixes, motioning for them to withdraw. "I understand now what this 'Animara' was trying to do, but... please, Arina of another time. Go back to your Wind. There is a war here, and I refuse to let you get killed once more."

"You would have me run, like you plan to do now?" Arina snapped, her eyes lighting up in defiance. "Animara told me everything; she can peer into time, but she cannot peer into your heart. I know you ran out of fear....what happened, Wind?"



"...Marina's death." Wind exhaled, letting the words float in the air. "Arina...you...of my time was always faster than I am. Too fast." At this, Arina silently moved over to Wind and took his hand - after a few minutes, they had entered into a gentle embrace.



"If this war is as urgent as you feel it is...then I may not be able to fully help you grieve until it is finished." Arina remarked breathlessly, as they let go. "But please let me get you to that point. I will help you find her, if there is any sign she lives."

Wind sighed in resignation, looking at the horizon as the bright reds of the sky began to turn a deep blue with the sun's rise. "Very well, love of another time." He stepped back and looked at Animara. "Arina said you can walk through time; I presume that the reason you have a code of some sort that prevents you from changing lives wholescale, or you would've done it already."

"You assume correctly." Animara replied, letting the sand form back into her fingers.

"What do you know, then?"

"There is another Planes- Worldshifter, named Drael, currently assisting Piberdo, correct? One of our kind should be enough to make armies rise and fall, as you certainly know." Animara replied. "For some reason, though, her efforts were not sufficient to protect the Academy."

"Hold on...this timeline's Drael is present, too?" Arina looked at Animara, who shook her head. "Trust me, Arina, of all the people I have seen her she is the least like her...self, I suppose."

"What matters is that something, or perhaps someone, was strong enough to overwhelm a Worldshifter's abilties." Wind frowned. "The only individuals that should be capable of doing that in the polyverse are other worldshifters."

"What about a strong individual empowered by one?" Arina interjected. "I do not know much of Lifesteel, but it seems to be an incredibly effective conduit for mana transfer, with only sufficient emotion required to start the reaction. If Griff is as zealous as I have been told he is..."

At this, Animara shifted uncomfortably, as if something had occurred to her. "That...does not sound like something Griff would do. In fact, for someone so powerful, he seems oddly content on not leading the charge."

"He would not have to if he had a champion that could receive his blessings, making them that much stronger." Wind surmised. "In other words, this upcoming battle is more about demonstrating his might."

Animara almost shook her head, but instead bit her tongue and slipped the mask on - her body transmuted into sand once more, as her distorted voice crackled and muttered. “Why d'oes it not su'rpr'ise me that a Com'mune rul'ed by Griff results in ze'ro tol'er'ance?”



"Tolerance or not, it's best we make haste." Wind retorted, taking out a map. "Lucira! Order the phoenixes to prepare for bombardment - I will be rallying the Commune defectors. Piberdo's time will be short, if we do not move to assist her. "

It was like staring in a mirror I'd seen in a previous time.

However, this time, I'm the mirror. My blade flashes in the air as I parry an overhand slash from her deft hands, my shoulders sagging from the weight of her blows. Is she more skilled, or is she merely the stronger brute?



She burns with the power of the Lifesteel, but as I try to link with it, I sense none of Griff's delusional hums influencing zealous warchants. She senses my probe into her wills, her histories, as I attempt to burn through her mind to find the differences that led her down this devoted path.It's strange, seeing the events play out in her mind - the fateful meeting with the Masticore, her induction through Argonia... the rough chain of events is the same, but the words and emotions are all different.



She senses my mental assault, however, and wills her entire being to concentrate on one thought - putting my neck at the point of a blade. By the time my vision fully returns back to reality, I've only got a brief second before I can throw my blade in the way. My hands shift to sandy claws, catching the blade as I push back against my temporal doppelganger's sword, trembling as we force it to a standstill, inches from my throat.

"Tell me, why should I believe you fight for a better cause?"



"If you are anything like me, listen to your heart, your own Steel. You know that Griffs has betrayed its desires."

"I listen to nothing but the Steel, Animara. It has guarded me from death, be it at the Masticore's fateful hands or Argonia's war preparations." Her eyes flicker with pity and spite. "I have seen eras go by and so called "heroes" try to reform the flaws of the Commune."

In the distance, I hear Drael's walls crumbling, punctuated by the screech of one of Wind's phoenixes as it crashes behind us.

"The Darkblade knew nothing of ruling, and threw Averlos into chaos with their inability to bring the other factions together."

I respond by rolliing to the side, my claws grasping as her face as we continue to grapple back and forth within the layers of the outer fortress of Piberdo's defenses.

"The Academy only extrapolated results based on the whispers they could hear from beyond their castles of books. They did not see the suffering of the people."

I attempt to twist her wrist, but the world suddenly flips and I quickly dissolve into sand to flip it once more, landing on my feet as I attempt to claw at her plate mail.

"So yes, I align with a monster obsessed with instilling complete order. I have no choice, for I have been bested time and time again."

"But what of the other planes you've been too?" I snapped. "Did Vis not inspire you to keep living, did Delkor not inspire you to keep finding your own way?"

Her face contorts in confusion, and I realize the difference that set us apart; she had never sparked.

But an opportunity in combat is an opportunity, and I slam her head against a wall, muttering a silent apology as she drops to the ground, unconscious. Her head, like mine, is unsurprisingly melded with the blessed steel - she will live to see another day.

As I exit outside, dragging my captive with me, Piberdo greets me with a relieved look on her face, as it seems our timely presence saved her and the Academy from total obliteration. I understood her plight now, too - this was not the girl I'd met in my own timeline, who traded information for amusement and kept contacts to hear of the world above. This was a Piberdo that hid from the world, reliant on the silent research of the Academy to stay silent and orderly. Having to become a general had made her unfocused, forcing her to put on a brave front without the skills to properly lead an army.

Drael...skips over to me to report, only for Arina to intercept her and whisper into her head. After a moment, the tall blonde nods, and twirls away a little more slowly, as Arina steps over to me and offer me an artifact that resembles.... a transceiver?

"I think there's something this timeline's Wind needs to see."