The Brik­Pocalypse


The Deadly SpaceMan, the BrikVerse's eternal Dice Ex Machina.

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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.

Even as reality raced to construct itself around the SpaceMan, he was already smashing it apart, hurling himself into a BrikPocalypse of universal warfare that compounded the force of Ossum faster than the nascent BrikVerse could adjust.

Spacetime cracked and shattered, sending jagged shards of itself into alternate dimensions and backwards and forwards across its own timeline. The orderly course of minifig history had no defense against the intruding fragments of reality, fishtailing drunkenly until loose chronological chunks carried the Deadly SpaceMan in to blow everything up and restart the cycle once again.

Over and over, reality seeded and re-seeded itself with every SpaceMan-induced crash and reboot, and each successive BrikVerse became richer and wilder and more ridiculous. New factions and characters appeared with Kanons of their own, adding to the flavor of the final universe-ending explosion but never preventing its arrival. With a dozen concurrent BrikPocalypses in progress at any given moment, it seemed that the BrikVerse's self-destructive 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.

In her devotion to all things awful, the Nega-BlokTrix strikes a spine-annihilating pose straight from the Human comics industry.

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Unbeknownst to minifigkind, shockwaves from the BrikVerse popping like popcorn created knockoff universes in negative relief. Chief among these was the NegaVerse, a dimension of low-grade copies held together by the unreliable clutch power of the nefarious Nega-BlokTrix. Her invasion caught the BrikVerse's 2,001st Rekonstruktion unprepared, and minifig civilization fell on every front to her army of bargain-bin Poop Dragons and shoddy clones.

When the new generation of Deadly SpaceMen arrived to smash the 2,002nd BrikVerse into existence, it was already too late. Their strength was diluted by generations of spacetime copy errrors and compression artifacts. Nullified by the crappiness of Nega Nahsome, their Ossum couldn't reach critical mass. For the first time, it looked like the BrikPocalypse 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 vices of their patron Humans. The Almighty Benny, a genie of capricious destruction. Major Natalya of the Assyrian Star Empire, with her unassailable goderator complex. The mad inventor Brag Von Braggalot of Neo-Prussia. The vivisect Zahru Trollarm of Medivo and his tornado of blades. 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 the 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 ignored 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 bottomless 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 reseeded the new reality along with the Heroes and their armies - all the Dimmies and Jaw-Jaws and Nega clones, scattered in foul pockets throughout space and time.

Worse, the new Heroes carried enough force of Kanon to create their own negatives in the knockoff dimensions. New anti-Heroes, villains on a level the BrikVerse had never seen,rose up to scheme and campaign for the prevention of destruction and strife, seeking to end the cycle of BrikPocalypses in a final Ragnablok 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 Ragnablok. Lurking behind the scenes to seduce the unwary, the diabolikal incarnations of Peace, Order, Stability, and Poop threaten to fill the universe with blandness and inactivity, snuffing out the fire of minifig violence forever. Only the mad shenanigans of courageous Heroes ready to throw their lives away in service to nonsense and mayhem stand between minifigkind and an eternity of boredom.