Heroic Slavic warriors triumph over evil reptilian invaders to pounding phonk beats. These surreal showdowns have racked up millions of views and spawned a wave of spin-offs, including video games, comic books, and tabletop RPGs. What started as a mock academic lecture quickly turned into a full-blown cultural phenomenon – fueled in part by some deep-rooted medieval nostalgia.
One of the most well-known stories in the Ancient Rus vs. Lizards mythos is ‘The tale of how the Russian hero Danila Trumpov drove the accursed Lizards from the Slavic States of America’. In this fictional legend, a Russian version of Donald Trump defeats a shadowy alliance of humanoid lizards, who are supposedly aided by Bill Gates.
Trumpov wields imaginative techniques like the “Republican Egg Squeeze” and the “Texas Burger Bomb,” and even manages to sabotage the lizard lobbyists by replacing the dollar with the ruble. In the end, the forces of Slavic justice prevail, and the Lizards are forced to retreat to the distant planet of Nibiru.
This is just one installment in a sprawling fan-fiction universe created as a joke, but which has grown far beyond its origins. What began as light-hearted parody has developed into a full-fledged narrative world that mixes satire, absurdity, and pseudo-history – while also poking fun at the cult of Russia’s supposed ancient supremacy.
The “war” begins
In March 2023, a strange YouTube video appeared, starring an AI-generated character introduced as “Professor and four-time historian Alexey Sergeyevich Bagirov.” Speaking with an air of authority, the professor unveiled what he described as the long-suppressed truth of Russian history: that the ancient Rus civilization once stretched across nearly the entire Earth.
Bagirov’s lecture combined several familiar conspiracy tropes – claims of lost civilizations with advanced technology, an ancient war between humans and shape-shifting lizards, divine interventions by pagan gods, and secret documents allegedly hidden from the public. His arguments leaned heavily on loose word associations and “secret documents,” while the visuals featured intentionally janky PowerPoint slides with exaggerated animations, accompanied by loud, distorted background music.
But the creators went further than simply remixing old conspiracies. They built a whole new mythological framework. According to Bagirov, the ancient Rus not only coexisted with dinosaurs – they were actually friends. He explains that the word dinosaur supposedly derives from the Old Slavic root dino, meaning “child,” and that the name of the Slavic pagan god Zavra identifies him as the “divine ancestor” of all dinosaurs.
In a follow-up video, Bagirov adds a central stylistic twist to the saga: the Slavic reinterpretation of all names and terms. He describes how dinosaurs played an important role in the daily lives of the Rus. Brachiosaurus Brachislav helped build houses and studied astronomy; Styracosaurus Stavrislav took part in mammoth hunts; and a pterodactyl named Pterodimir flew children to school.
In the third video, Bagirov introduces the main villains: the Lizards from the planet Nibiru – an idea familiar to fans of post-Soviet conspiracy lore. In this universe, the Lizards are jealous of the glory of the Rus and want to destroy it. Their weapon is deception: they try to seduce the Rus with fake sciences – especially mathematics. To that end, they dispatch agents such as Euclid, Archimedes, Democritus, Plato, and others, each programmed with 2G radiation, to infiltrate the ancient region of Russo-Greece.
Through all this, Bagirov satirizes the genre of amateur pseudo-historians who emerged in the post-Soviet space – those who claim access to secret truths, reject mainstream science, and lean heavily on unverifiable legends or misreadings of historical texts. These theorists rarely seek real evidence, but often captivate audiences with promises of lost national grandeur and sinister enemies.
Though clearly absurd, the videos resonated with viewers. The fictional characters were so outrageous, and the tone so deliberately ridiculous, that the series became far more popular than anyone had expected – perhaps even more than the creators intended.
Slavic strikes back
The characters of the Rus and the Lizards soon found a second life in short-form video content. These clips featured AI-generated visuals, voiceovers in mock-serious tones, and of course, pounding phonk soundtracks. The volume of content rapidly multiplied, and the Rus vs. Lizards universe continued to evolve, layering in more absurdist and satirical details.
In these stories, the source of the Rus’ supernatural vitality is the water of Lake Baikal – an intentional nod to the lake’s revered status in Russian culture and to pseudo-scientific beliefs about the mystical power of “charged water.” The Rus are portrayed as a global civilization, and this is reflected in the fictional renaming of countries: Australorussia, Egyptoslavia, the Slavic States of America, and more. These names parody pseudo-historians who try to rewrite history to suggest that Russia once ruled the entire planet.
Religion in the Ancient Rus universe is a hybrid of Orthodox Christianity and revived paganism. On the one hand, characters shout catchphrases like “You fiends, at least fear the Lord!”; on the other, they perform bizarre rituals to Perun and other old Slavic deities. This mashup reflects the worldview of certain fringe groups who, in recent decades, attempted to revive pre-Christian Slavic faiths – often blending them with nationalist ideology and pseudoscience.
Aside from the irony and satire, the meme’s success was also driven by how visually compelling the characters were. They looked cool. Their armor, weapons, and over-the-top powers appealed to a younger audience, especially in meme format. This led to a wave of commercial spinoffs.
In September 2023, a small indie game studio called theBratans released a video game titled Ancient Rus vs. Lizards. In the game, players control various Rus heroes and fight off waves of Lizard enemies using magical powers and fantastical weapons. One highlight is the “Slavic Egg Squeeze,” in which a giant chicken assaults the enemy by hurling explosive eggs.
Though the game began as a joke, it turned out to be well-crafted, atmospheric, and enjoyable to play. Despite its modest scope, it quickly became one of the ten top-selling games in the Russian segment of Steam, earning 97% positive reviews from players.
The game turned out to be so popular that in the spring of 2025, its sequel was released – with improved graphics, gameplay, script, and even with the support of a large Russian business.
Shortly after the first part of the game’s release, a major Moscow-based publisher began producing comic books set in the same universe. Titles included Rus vs. Lizards: In Africa, Rus vs. Lizards: On the Moon, and Rus vs. Lizards: The Revenge of Drocheslav – the last name being a cheeky play on a vulgar Russian word ‘drochit’, meaning ‘to masturbate’.
Next came a tabletop role-playing game, a themed expansion for the Russian collectible card game Berserk (often seen as the local version of Magic: The Gathering), and an avalanche of branded merchandise.
In a digital culture where memes rarely survive more than a few weeks, Ancient Rus vs. Lizards has become a rare long-term hit – and there’s a good reason why.
Imagining ancestors that never were
Yes, the Ancient Rus vs. Lizards universe is over-the-top, funny, and self-aware. But part of its staying power lies in the gap it fills. For various historical and political reasons, modern Russians know significantly less about their own early medieval past than, say, the British know about Anglo-Saxon England or the French about Charlemagne’s empire.
Most of what we do know about the 9th–11th centuries – a crucial period for medieval storytelling – comes from the Primary Chronicle, a dry and formal chronicle of events in early Rus. Aside from a few famous rulers, we know very little about the daily lives, beliefs, or personal stories of the people who lived during that era.
So while Russia has real medieval figures, it doesn’t have a vibrant, mythic tradition of legendary heroes – no King Arthur, no Roland, no Ragnar. Attempts to fill that gap with fiction often fall flat: the characters are too perfect, the dialogue stiff, the plots too generic. These stories lack the strangeness and spontaneity that real myths tend to have.
Ancient Rus vs. Lizards manages to succeed where others have failed. Its characters are unquestionably noble, its invented “ancient language” adds flavor, and its plots – however ridiculous – always lead to good defeating evil. The storylines, like the “Russian-Jewish army” storming “Lizardburg,” are absurd in the best way possible: they’re strange enough to be funny, but structured enough to be entertaining.
And of course, this mythos doubles as a satirical vehicle for commentary on US politics, Ukraine, and other hot-button topics – always in high demand with the Russian internet audience.