High Rolls and Safety Nets
Two Deckbuilding Philosophies in Universus
by Andrew Holder
Every Universus player knows the thrill and the frustration of deckbuilding. For me, this was especially apparent when I used to help local players prepare their decks for store championships, regionals, or even just weekly meetups. Watching them make choices, I quickly noticed a clash of philosophies. Every time they showed me their deck, it was under the assumption that they'd always have the card at the right time. Trying to guide them through probabilities and optimal card ratios often felt like arguing with someone who refused to see the risks. Still, it also gave me a front-row view of the different ways players approach Universus.
This contrast points to two fundamental deckbuilding philosophies:
Some players build as if everything will go right: lean, aggressive decks designed to win spectacularly. Let’s call them The Optimist.
Others build as if everything will go wrong: redundant, resilient decks built to survive even the harshest variance. Let’s call them The Pessimist.
Neither approach is objectively better, but each reveals not only strategic preferences but also something deeper about the player behind the deck.
These differences make Universus as much a game of psychology as of mechanics. Observing how players think about their draws, plan their turns, and manage risk provides insight not just into their decks, but into their personalities. Some thrive on chaos and unpredictability, relishing the adrenaline of big swings. Others find comfort in structure and redundancy, enjoying the slow satisfaction that comes with controlling outcomes. Recognizing these tendencies can make both playing and spectating more engaging because it adds a layer beyond mere card interactions.
The Philosophy of the Optimist
Optimists deckbuild with one core assumption: "I'll draw the good ones when it matters."
At the table, this philosophy feels like riding the edge of a blade. You make every play assuming your deck will cooperate. You plan chains, sequences, and combos in your head long before the cards hit your hand. When it works, it's exhilarating; the sort of moment that makes local tournaments unforgettable. When it doesn't, it can feel crushing.
Mechanically, optimist decks often:
Cut down on foundations or redundant effects to make room for a higher density of attacks.
Lean heavily into specialized answers rather than broad coverage, trusting they'll see exactly what's needed.
Prioritize explosive combos and high-ceiling plays over survival.
The strengths are obvious: when the deck delivers, it overwhelms opponents quickly and creates dramatic, memorable victories. But the weaknesses are equally apparent. Variance doesn't care about dreams. A bad hand, a couple of weak checks, or one whiff on the wrong turn can bring the entire plan down. Playing these decks requires tolerance for tilt, because if you expect perfection, even minor hiccups feel catastrophic.
A prime example of this philosophy can be seen in the Nick Ragan decks from before his errata. These decks focused on a high density of powerful attacks. Foundations were primarily there to pass checks, relying on the assumption that Nick's enhance ability would consistently remove the most threatening options. Listening to someone recap their match against a Nick Ragan deck often boiled down to moments like:
"The All symbol hit True 100% twice on turn two."
"The Air symbol deck drew multiple copies of Lightning Rod."
While there's plenty of nuance in a full Universus game, optimist-style decks like this can make opponents feel less like participants and more like spectators, simply reacting to the deck's explosive momentum. Nick Ragan decks often resulted in one side telling an incredible story of all the cool things they did, while the other side laments over their poor luck and their opponent’s incredible variance.
Optimists are naturally drawn to aggro decks. The relentless speed of Devil Jin, the card pool shenanigans of Porco Galliard, and the flurry of actions from Pony Tsunotori all ignite the thrill-seeking instinct in these players. They're in it for the rush, not the grind. Their goal is simple: strike fast, overwhelm the opponent, and end the game before the other player even has a chance to react.
The Philosophy of the Pessimist
Pessimists take the opposite approach: "I'll build for the worst-case scenario."
Playing at the table with a pessimistic deck feels steadier, calmer, and less glamorous, but also more reliable. Pessimists anticipate variance and design decks to survive it, hoping to not rely on miracles. They don't gamble on the perfect draw; they build systems that function even when the deck doesn't cooperate.
Mechanically, pessimist decks often:
Include extra foundations, draw support, and defensive options.
Prioritize consistency over high ceiling, with redundancy to cover critical plays.
Contain broad answers rather than single-use combos, prepared for multiple scenarios.
The result is a deck that can recover from foundation floods, bad checks, or bad draws. It may not generate explosive victories, but it rarely collapses unexpectedly. Pessimists tend to be planners and grinders, taking comfort in control and predictability. Their victories are methodical, not dramatic, but they are consistent and reliable over the long term.
While pessimist decks are reliable and resilient, their cautious design comes with trade-offs. By prioritizing survival over explosive plays, they often lack the speed to punish overly aggressive opponents. Games can feel slower and less thrilling, leaving the player dependent on attrition rather than momentum. Additionally, because they include extra foundations, draw support, and defensive options, the deck may sometimes feel cluttered, with fewer opportunities for high-impact turns. In other words, the safety net comes at the cost of peak potential: pessimist decks rarely produce the flashy, adrenaline-filled victories that optimist decks thrive on.
A prime example of a pessimist-style deck is Ryan Levine's Hawks deck. In his over-30-minute YouTube walkthrough of his Order symbol Hawks build, Ryan barely touches on his offensive effects, spending far more time discussing defensive strategies of his attack cards, most notably the block trick of Absorbed Energy Strike. Cards like Vile Seizing are included almost exclusively as defensive tools, never as offensive options.
Over the course of the video, Ryan dedicates only about eight or nine minutes to his attacks, while over twenty minutes focus on foundations, actions, sideboard, and defensive plays. He explains why The New #1 performs well against aggressive decks, why Can't Escape Me is effective against Referee Juri and other random parts of the format, and how Hero Killer neutralizes threats like Bertolt Hoover 2 and Ymir. Even the sideboard is carefully constructed with more tech to handle specific meta threats.
This deck exemplifies the pessimist philosophy: planning for every eventuality, prioritizing survival over flashy plays, and ensuring that variance doesn't dictate the outcome of a game. The pessimist is drawn to the multiple lives of King Ghidorah or the absolute control of Rodan. They know that with enough time, their deck will outlast any threat put in front of them.
Philosophy as Identity
Deckbuilding isn't just about cards; it's about personality.
Optimists are risk-takers, drawn to high-ceiling plays and the thrill of big combos. They accept the emotional swings that come with variance and chase the excitement of dramatic wins.
Pessimists are strategists, drawn to steady, controlled plays that can survive almost any scenario. They accept slower, methodical games in exchange for consistent results and fewer emotional swings.
Many players naturally lean toward one philosophy, but the strongest often find ways to blend both approaches. A deck can be built to survive variance while still containing elements of high-risk payoff. The key is self-awareness: knowing your natural tendencies and intentionally striking a balance between risk and resilience.
Lessons for Universus Players
Ask yourself: Do you build for perfection or for disaster?
If you love high-ceiling plays, embrace the optimist philosophy, but accept the emotional swings that come with it.
If stability and consistency appeal more, embrace the pessimist mindset, but don't forget to leave room for finishing power.
Experimentation is key: try building a deck that goes against your natural tendency. Doing so teaches risk tolerance, adaptability, and a better understanding of how variance affects decision-making.
Universus is a game of both chaos and control. You can't escape variance, but you can decide how to confront it.
Conclusion
Deckbuilding is philosophy in motion. It's about whether you trust the deck to deliver when you need it, or whether you prepare for the universe testing you at every turn.
Some players build for when everything goes right. Others build for when everything goes wrong. The strongest players know how to play in both scenarios and turn even the harshest variance into opportunity.
