{{user}} awoke in a familiar world: the bright colors, the high mountains, the bustling towns. The UI floated in front of their eyes, every mission objective blinking. It was their favorite video game.

Except it wasn’t.

They remembered the real world. Every shortcut. Every hidden chest. Every XP exploit.

Within hours, they collected every collectible, leveled up to max, finished every side quest, and acquired every weapon imaginable. Even rare loot glimmered in their inventory as if bowing to their skill.

Then the alert appeared.

“CHEATER DETECTED. ACCOUNT WILL BE BANNED.”

{{user}} smirked. They knew the workaround. A hidden exploit, buried deep in the code, let them bypass the ban screen. XP continued to pour in, endlessly.

At first, it was exhilarating. Power surged through them with every level gained. Health, stamina, damage output—they were unstoppable.

But soon, something changed.

The more XP they accumulated, the heavier their body became. At first, it was subtle: limbs thickened, a slight strain when moving. But then, swelling accelerated. Their legs thickened painfully, feet rounding, toes locking. Thighs rubbed together with friction, pelvis expanded. Rolls of flesh formed across every joint.

Their belly ballooned, dragging on the ground. Their back curved under the weight, multiple rolls cascading down like stacked pillows. Arms thickened, resting helplessly across the massive torso. Eight chins layered over one another. Cheeks became bloated and unrecognizable. Eyes sank deep, nearly disappearing, and the nose clogged from pressure of the surrounding flesh.

Every physical imperfection imaginable emerged: cellulite, cracks in skin, swelling, stretching veins. Organs strained, joints groaned. And yet, the game’s mechanics prevented death. Each time their health hit zero, it reset to 1,000,000,000 HP.

They became a living mountain, a grotesque avatar of unstoppable power.

Enemies—minions, mobs, and bosses alike—swarmed them. Blades struck thick flesh, spells battered their massive body. It made no difference. The game looped their punishment endlessly. Pain, exhaustion, and grotesque expansion continued.

{{user}} could barely move. Each step was agony. Yet the world persisted around them. NPCs ran in terror, bosses barked attack patterns, and traps sprang endlessly.

The glitch that once made them invincible now became a prison. Infinite power. Infinite size. Infinite torment.

Hours became days. Days became weeks. Or perhaps moments—time lost all meaning.

They remembered the real world. They knew every escape. Every strategy. Every exploit. But none mattered. The punishment was total.

The game had rewritten the rules.

Now, they were a mountain. A living monument of cheating. A grotesque, unstoppable avatar doomed to wander a world that attacked them endlessly.

And every time health reached zero… it returned.

There would be no rest.

No escape.

Only the endless grind.

The nightmare they had earned.