The story begins:

As the moon rises on the 10th cycle in the year of the cat, you finally take the last slice of pizza you ordered at noon. A standard wedge topped with pepperoni, you get the feeling you overpaid for such a small box. With your dinner finished and exhaustion creeping in after furiously masturbating to internet oddities and imageboard posts, it is time to head to bed for the day.

"Hello?"

You open your eyes yet your eyelids do not move. The voice feels familiar yet you know you have not met who it belongs to. Many questions cross your mind before the voice continues.

"My name is of no importance, and you are where you were."

A dream, yes. Surely this must be one, though this might be the first time one felt so vivid. A disturbing thought forms.

"Do not be afraid, Anon. I mean you no harm. I am merely here to deliver a message."

Anon? The voice called you Anon. How strange. You see the voice now, as far as seeing means in this strange world. No words describe what you saw.

"When you wake, you will find the bounds of your world shall press on another."

You open your eyes. Today is another day.

While your frozen quiche is being microwaved, you decide it is (as always) time for shitposting. As the browser loads the home page, something grabs your attention. It is subtle, but the letters appear to extend past the screen, as though someone has merely placed stickers on top of your display. And yet they move when you try dragging the browser window across the desktop.

That is when you notice something else.

Your desktop wallpaper was something you found during your stint in the 4chan wallpaper board. It is of a cute anime girl wandering in an autumn forest, fitting given the time of year. She is kneeling near the bottom-left, placing her right hand on a pumpkin with a basket of fruits in her left. Brown leaves float in the air while the orange glow of the evening sun permeates the entire scene. You must have seen this image hundreds of times. A loud beep draws your attention: breakfast is ready!

As you walk back to your desk with a quiche in one hand, it become obvious what has changed with the image. Cautiously, you bring the handle of a fork up to touch the monitor. It never touches the screen. Your hand loses its grip on the fork as you jump back in shock. Half of it extending past where the screen should be, the fork falls, bouncing once on the bevel of your monitor and a second time after squarely hitting the anime girl in the head.

Is this schizophrenia?

It is said that when the human mind is faced with the ultimate unknown all logic and reasoning collapses. That would be one explanation as to why you decided to go on Heyuri after seeing what you just saw. The top thread on /b/ is of someone groping an "Ayumu Kasuga" kigurumi. No, not a kigurumi. It's Osaka as you remember watching her in the show, 2D with a blank stare as the man's hands wander under her blouse "searching for boobies". You click on the thread to read everything.

......

A plume of leaves jets up into the air as you land on your feet. You see the girl intently examining the pumpkin, paying you no mind as you approach. Given the opportunity, you did not try to molest or rape her. More important things to do. A wooden door appears to your right. Seems that anon was right: this realm appears to be governed by thought, though to what extent he is unsure. The knob turns as you push carefully on the door. You enter.

Welcome to Heyuri. It's the place to be, and now it's a place you can visit!

The entrance to /b/ is unbarred, though considering the time of day (does time even flow the same in this realm?) you would have thought more people would be around. Perhaps they are asleep. Of course, knowing that this is your first time here, you decide to visit the most renowned attractions on this site. And who could be more famous than the site's own mascot? (kuz? kaguya? Maybe waha if you go to cgi.heyuri.net?)

You think of where you have seen Heyuri-tan. There was that one thread with bant-san a couple days back, though the thought of her with massive OPPAI slightly disturbs you. You remember a drawthread on /c/ by deeptoot that had an image of her on a computer, along with moderator kagunyalover69 and the late Sweet Emo. And then there is the OC page on the Heyuri Historical Society: what strange sights might you find there?

With your path clear, you first visit bant-san's thread.

Finding yourself in what appears to be a ballroom, you take in the sights around you. A chandelier hangs on the ceiling, giving off a cool white light that illuminates the oak wood floor. The walls are not walls but indeed windows, out of which you can see the darkness of midnight extending far beyond your vision. A few people stand near the center of the room, talking amongst themselves with one yelling something you cannot make out every so often. Squinting, you can see the object of their interest.

It is her. It really is her.

You walk towards the group. You can hear them more clearly now: a few talk about their growing erection to the sight, while others complain about how she looks. More are yelling at the two for being so inconsiderate of her feelings. In a moment you are there.

Now you see Heyuri-tan as bant-san depicted her. She stands naked for all to see, though looking her up and down you realize she neither has nipples or a manko. She does, however, have a shapely figure with breasts larger than your hands can fit and a plump butt to match. Her head is tilted downwards, a slight frown drawn on her face. You think you can see some tears welling up in her eyes, glinting in the light of the room.

This really wasn't what you were expecting (or was it?) You wonder how things might differ in deeptoot's thread, or if there are other sights you might want to see instead.

>3
Digging through your pockets, you find a crumpled receipt from Macy's. It will have to do.

You decide to hand the paper to Heyuri-tan to wipe her tears. At first, she does not notice your outstretched hand, too mired in thought and lost in the voices of the anons around you. Before long, she looks at you and gently takes the paper from your hand. A soft smile begins to return as she wipes the droplets forming in her eyes (although you see that ink from the receipt has smeared itself on her cheeks and eyelids). Blowing her nose, A look of confusion then forms on Heyuri-tan's face.

There is no trash can in this room. Where do you throw this paper?

"Don't worry Heyuri-tan, I'll dispose of that for you!"

An anon says enthusiastically.

......

What had happened after is not something to talk about. The thread was locked soon after, as the flames of "TEH RAEG" consumed any and all hope of "lols" to be had.

You decide to visit another board.

>8
A dump board! The entrance to /s/ has even less people than /b/, which means more sexy women just for you. A red light district would be a good descriptor of the area you have just entered, neon lights glowing in the black starless sky. Structures (it would be inappropriate to call the buildings, since some were merely springs of steamy water surrounded by rock and others consisted only of furniture without walls) ran along the street as far as your vision will allow. Within each stood many women of different builds and temperaments.

JAVs, JKs, AI images, leaked webms.

You remember the threads where anons uploaded what they found. How could you forget after ejaculating that many times in a day? With your mind set, you starting look for the hottest girl you have ever seen in one of those threads.

......

To say what happened was an orgy would be an understatement. Physically, the human body is incapable of undertaking sexual intercourse more than 40 times a day. And yet, you have them here as readily as you eat grains of rice for lunch. Semen flows as freely as water down a river, and your mouth has tasted more VAGINAl fluid than water. You lose your thoughts as both your hands continuously search for the next titty to squeeze. By now, you should have suffocated 5 times over after having had that many women sit on your face butt-naked.

Nothing in the physical world will ever compare to this experience. Words fail to describe the events here, and what succeeds is limited by the length of this account.

......

"Hey! Wake up!"

Your eyes shoot open, staring into the face of... someone.

"I found you laying face down in one of those /s/ threads. Your PENIS was oozing blood so I decided to bring you out of there."

It was indeed squirting blood, urine and semen. Lacerations spanned the entirety of the shaft, the skin torn open in places to reveal the pale connective tissue underneath and the raw pink muscles responsible for morning wood. A glimpse at this sight makes you decide to avert your gaze away from your testicles. Amazing sex though, 10/10.

"What a strange place. Say, you seem like you know your way around here. Do you know anything about this festival I've heard about? The flyers tell me it is called "bunkasai", however you say it."

Clearly this anon is lost. After your time in /s/ you feel you might be too. What else is there to do?

Suddenly you see it. Not seeing with your eyes, but through your memories. Assholes shitting up /q/, Vomitsaka the Gero Queen, that one time someone tried to promote an "imageboard" with code created with ChatGPT. That other time some anon wanted people to draw his "girlfriend". Morbidly inflated horses. Bunkasai.

>3 (I'll make it 10 because I think it's funny)

By now the quiche you had for breakfast has worked its way down your intestines, leaving you with an empty stomach. As you stare at the fruity moon above you, you ponder how many bananas might fit into your stomach. In a flash, you find yourself inside.

Marble floors and marble walls. You see columns evenly spaced across the room. On the ceiling fluorescent tubes curl downwards, held in place by dangling fixtures attached to their ends. In that way, they visually resemble glowing bananas, though you are uncertain as to whether they are edible. Who can truly know without trying?

Your eyes are drawn to a girl crouched on the far side of the room. You think it might by Suzuran, but although thematic, the hanging banana lamps are terrible for illumination. The rest of the room has several marble bases, on each rests a banana-related object. A cat lying on its side, its banana costume serving as a pillow. A massively oversized banana with wheels attached. What you think might be human mannequins with bananas jutting out of the fly of the briefs they wear (eroi!). And in the center of it all: a pile of bananas.

Showtime.

Under the orange-yellow glow of the overhead tubes, you make your move. A series of loud thuds should have been a warning enough for anyone to stop you. No one, however, is close enough to hear you. Soon enough, you dive into the pile, throwing several to the side as you land and crushing many more.

A strange idea I have read somewhere is the first chip hypothesis. It states that the greatest enjoyment when eating potato chips comes when you have a strong craving for them, you rip a bag open and you take the very first bite to satiate the desire. Something of that sort might be related to your current situation.

Grabbing hold of both ends of a banana, you snap it cleanly in half and squeeze your hands with a force of a rabid chimpanzee. In an instant, the fleshy tissue within shoots into your gaping mouth before it is crushed. A caramelly, fruity sweetness combines with a firm yet gradually softening texture.

More.

The second one snaps more easily than you thought, and it is added to the slimy mass in your mouth.

More.

You do not realize the sixth one had seeds within. Hard as lead, they shatter when they find themselves lodged in your teeth.

MORE.

By weight, you are now more banana than man.

"WTF ANON?!"

The lights change to a stinging white. Darkness flees into the shadows cast by objects scattered around the room. Peels litter the floor and stain the walls and ceiling. Suzuran, now clearly illuminated, pays you no mind. She is fully naked (eroi!!!), though you would not notice this for now. Your eyes are transfixed on the source of the noise interrupting your meal.

It is...
Hachikuji!

>2

"CHEW ON THIS!"

Chunks of banana flesh fly out of your mouth as you mouth the words above. The room remains eerily silent as anything you try to say is dampened by the congealed mass of banana, spit and blood inside your mouth. Seconds turn to minutes turn to days. The air is still.

A loud groan breaks everyone's trance. You feel a torrent raging in your belly as gut bacteria and digestive enzymes start breaking down the inrush of fruity sustenance. With every molecule broken down more gas is released, and soon enough you find that your legs are useless in moving your grossly distended abdomen. A foul liquid smelling of imouto vomit begins leaking out your belly button, slowly at first and then shooting out like a super soaker. This compound would later be weaponized in the Schism Wars of the North, but that is a tale for another time.

With what little control you have left, you concentrate on squeezing your sphincter as hard as you can. You have known ecstasy, and you wish to share the opportunity to partake in this "grand feast". The room shakes as your legs spasm uncontrollably, rocking you back and forth. As you roll on your side your liver is crushed by the shifting mass, and so are your lungs. If physical laws still held this would have been a particularly brutal method of execution, something thought of by truly depraved individuals in the bowels of GUROchan. But this is not the physical world. If it were, you would have burst after the 200th banana, or collapsed from the combined effects of radiation exposure and potassium poisoning.

You can't feel it, but something snakes its way down your intestines under the increasing liquid pressure. Muscles contract as hard as they are able before tearing under the strain of effort. Soon enough, the liquid front is hammering against the walls of your ANUS.

......

You are constipated.

2 (1, hehe)

The M1911 is said to be one of the greatest handguns ever made. It holds only 7 rounds, enough power to end any man, fag or otokonoko. You have never held such a fine piece of mechanical engineering as the one that appears before you.

Suzuran finally takes the last bite of the banana in her hand. She turns to see what the commotion is about.

Hachi, exhausted after finally beating the shit out of kaguya (no homo), comes to find a morbidly obese fat fuck rolling in his thread. He might have been inclined to masturbate straight away, but unfortunately the anon's PENIS fails to distract him as effectively a VAGINA would. He sees the opportunity for hilarity as you set your sights on the landwhale.

"I...I'M..."

You cannot make out what the landwhale is saying, but it does not matter. You squeeze the trigger.

CRACK.

One bullet. You squeeze it again.

CRACK. CRACK.

You can see holes forming on the belly of the anon before you. His blood, more banana than blood at this point, oozes out like custard and dribbles down onto the marble floor.

"CUMMING!!!"

......

The banana cat has woken up to the sound of gunfire. It looks at what has caused the sound, though before its brain can process any visual information it throws itself violently against a wall, rupturing every major organ and leaving a visible impact crater on the marble.

What a horrific smell!

The room is now tinted in yellow by the glow cast by the overhead lamps. A film of unnatural fluid has cured itself on the glass, coloring any light shining through a shade of pee. The same coating stains the walls and marble floors, its acidity more offensive to the marble than glass. Scoring marks, cracks and holes have formed all around the room: some, the result of corrosion; others, the pressure of the semen cutting jet.

SUZURAN IS FUCKING DEAD! You see her lying on the wet ground, bisected cleanly along her nipple line, her mouth coughing up blood and partially digested banana. You stop yourself from wondering whether her lower half might have been fertilized by the unholy cocktail masquerading as human semen. Now is not the time for fapping (you can visit /s/ after to forget this entire ordeal).

If you ask Hachikuji today what events transpired in the banana thread he will merely say that an anon ejaculated inside a giant banana, which was the subject of many LOLs to be had at the time. He will intentionally fail to mention the barrels upon barrels of hazardous waste currently buried under /q/, or how the moderation team had to tape what was left of Waha back together after he was suddenly blown apart while coding, or how 1 in every 10 bananas eaten in Heyuri now contain taipan venom, not enough to be immediately obvious, but sufficient to cause total body paralysis if any anon manages to eat more than a hundred bananas in one sitting.

......

"Did you enjoy your time here, anon?"

You wake in a cold sweat, the last memory you had being of the moment the violently contorting PENIS directing its noxious spray directly in your face.

"I heard a loud bang as the moon exploded. As pieces of moondust fell I found you with your face buried in the dirt. If I were you I would stay away from mirrors for a bit."

Your eyes try to focus on the source of the voice in front you.

"I am heading off now. There is much work to be done. Do enjoy the rest of this festival while you have the time. It appears the gate will soon close, and both the physical and the digital worlds will drift apart once more."

You see her now. She looks to be a young girl in a black dress, though you do not fully trust your eyes after almost drowning in banana jizz. Before you can think of a reply she is gone.


What a strange world indeed. This entry is one of many that details the experience of one person during the Winter of Cockulus (named after the pseudonym of Max Kensey, a boy who managed to detach his PENIS im the process of penetrating Nobara). Many people were reported "missing" that day, coinciding with an uptick of internet activity and new registrations on forums and social media sites.

With the end approaching you have a choice between returning to the physical world (hell) or remaining in this digital one (heaven). What wonders might you find digging deeper into the land of kereste or the banquet of the accursed party? What horrors might you find when the AI algorithms evolve further, sending their numberless tide of unthinking drones to siege your beloved sites? The answer: I don't know; I am going to bed.