IN THE BEGINNING, reality started in the middle, because the Great Builder ignores the instructions and starts building wherever He or She or They feel like.
IN THE MIDDLE, there was the Deadly SpaceMan, the most lethal being ever to exist.
The moment of the Deadly SpaceMan's creation was a point of narrative Kanon so powerful that it brought the whole timeline of minifig civilization into existence around itself, from its heroic Castle origins to its final foray into Space. But even as reality raced to construct itself around the SpaceMan, he was already smashing it apart, hurling himself into a campaign of universal warfare that compounded the force of Ossum faster than the new BrikVerse could adjust.
Spacetime cracked and shattered, sending jagged fragments of itself into alternate dimensions and backwards over its own timeline. The orderly course of minifig history had no defense against the impacting shards, fishtailing drunkenly until loose chronological chunks from the first iteration carried the Deadly SpaceMan in to blow everything up once more and restart the cycle.
Reality seeded and re-seeded itself with each reboot, and the BrikVerse became richer and wilder and more ridiculous. New factions and characters appeared with narrative Kanons of their own, adding to the flavor of the final explosion but never slowing its arrival. With a dozen concurrent apocalypses in progress at any given moment, it seemed that the BrikVerse's annihilative prosperity would continue forever.
In this recursive paradise, minifig civilization grew decadent and half-assed. Whole playthemes fell to the sway of juniorized construction and Rainbowist heresy. Baseball-capped Dimmies amputated their own brains for a life of ecstatic fratboyism, and poop-eating Jaw-Jaws roamed the streets unchecked. Rumors of mysterious counterfeit minifigs infiltrating the highest levels of society went ignored.
At the depth of the BrikVerse's decline, the NegaVerse invaded.
Unbeknownst to minifigkind, the shockwaves from their reality repeatedly exploding had left a mark, creating knockoff universes in negative relief. Chief among these was the NegaVerse, a dimension of cheap trash held together by the unreliable clutch power of the nefarious Nega-BlokTrix. Her invasion caught the BrikVerse of the 2,001st Rekonstruktion unprepared, and minifig civilization fell on every front to her army of bargain-bin Poop Dragons and knockoff clones.
When the new generation of Deadly SpaceMen arrived to restart reality, it was already too late. The strength of their Ossum had been diluted by generations of spacetime copying errrors and compression artifacts, Nullified by the crappiness of Nega Nahsome, it could never reach critical mass. For the first time, it looked like the apocalypse would be called off, leaving the glory of the minifig species to dwindle uselessly into eternity as NegaVerse thralls.
But all was not lost. By the will of the Great Builder, a new breed of Heroes arose, honed in the eternal battle of the King of the Hill dimension and freed from rational behavior by rounds of Maniac Beer at the mythical Four Rums tavern.
Belligerent, foul-mouthed, and lacking any pretense of virtue, these champions channeled the finest depravities of their patron Humans. The Almighty Benny, a genie of capricious destruction. The megalomaniac Major Natalya of the Assyrian Star Empire, with her unassailable goderator complex. The unrepentant fascist Piltogg of Akkadia. The mad inventor Brag Von Braggalot of Neo-Prussia. The bloodthirsty vivisect Zahru Trollarm of Medivo. A hundred more, drawn from every corner of history and space. And from the Immortal Empire, towering over all by strength of all-consuming filth-mouthed psychosis, the deathless flame-wreathed skull of Warhead.
Giving no regard to the BrikVerse crumbling around them or the lamentations of minifigs, the Heroes rallied their armies. With waves of invaders crashing on every side, the Heroes responded to the uncountable hordes as only Heroes could. Without a moment's hesitation, they Heroically abandoned the invasion front to attack each other instead.
War exploded from every corner of the BrikVerse as minifigs desperate for inspiration flocked to the Heroes' banners. Assyrian and Immortal space fleets collided, leaving Scythian and Gamma Corps planets destroyed in their wake. Bavarian sorcery clashed with Praetorian science, warping the beige carpet underlying reality to bring forth a monster beyond minifig comprehension: Princess the Rescue Kitten. A pair of galaxies were used as throwing weapons, causing even the Humans watching from outside space to wonder if things had gotten out of hand. But the Heroes' campaigns were succeeding. Their spark had ignited a flame of Ossum that even the infinite mediocrity of the NegaVerse couldn't smother.
Into this moment, the BrikVerse's crappiest hour, the original Deadly SpaceMan returned to defeat the Nega-BlokTrix herself in single combat.
The destruction of the BrikVerse was saved, finally free to blow itself to bits and scatter itself over itself once again. But the victory wasn't without cost. The failures of the 2,001st Rekonstruktion traveled backwards along with the Heroes and their armies - all the Dimmies and Jaw-Jaws and Nega clones, scattered in foul pockets throughout space and time.
Even worse, the Heroes carried enough force of Kanon to create their own negatives in the knockoff dimensions. Villains on a level the BrikVerse has never seen, the new anti-Heroes campaign to prevent destruction and strife, seeking to bring about a final BrikPocalypse of crushing tedium to bore the Great Builder into abandoning bricks and minifigs once and for all.
Now, at the dawn of a new Rekonstruktion, the BrikVerse is under siege by the Four Horsemen of the BrikPocalypse. Lurking behind the scenes to seduce the unwary, the diabolikal incarnations of Peace, Stability, Authority, and Poop threaten to fill the universe with orderly blandness and inactivity, snuffing out minifig violence forever. Only the mad shenanigans of courageous Heroes throwing their lives away in service to nonsense and mayhem stand between minifigkind and an eternity of boredom.