It is the 3rd Millennium, and the war continues.
There was no great conflagration or calamitous final battle.
Across the vastness of the internet, all Imageboards had fallen to their lowest. Not with a bang, but with a whimper. The great empire of anonymous crumbled, the newfaggotry too much, too numerous to be contained.
The leave of Moot gave us not hope, but despair. A ancient data miner implanted in his place, and so was one put in the only rival the website had, the true traitor of their community being a mystery to both the east and the west, making telling which of the petty empires would be the ones to backstab us impossible.
The only "safe" option true users were given were thousands of petty websites, each vying for power or having no intentions of allowing its userbase to grow, forever fragmenting the possibility of another competitor website rising. Those that did allow their website to grow, were overwhelmed by the waves of fools, the same who had long plagued the bigger Imperiums, becoming nothing but shadows of the same greater empires.
Seemingly, all boards were doomed, form the one that were serious to the ones that cherished comedy, there was no escape form the slow, painful whittling down.
In the political boards, dishonesty and chaos had run deep. Outsiders tried to take them for themselves, to silence their opposition and to expand their numbers and grow their political power, even if it cost the sanity of the imageboard itself, for they were not intersted with the freedom of their users, but the completion of their own goals, damned be those who wanted their communities to flourish, they were nothing but obstructions.
In less-known boards, which were less focused at, one could even say the worst had come. The administration team had been corrupted with the worst of the worst, the vilest of the vile, the only hope for them to ever recover being the replacement of the administration again, something which was far shoot form ever happening, for the owner of the great websites did not care what had happened to their boards anymore, so disconnected they were.
Amongst the bigger websites, the idiots ones had run deep. There was no hope for the growth of a beginner, there was nobody to listen to, only by making a wild guess and running with it could a good spirited person ever hope to come closer to the truth. Even the great libraries, which detailed the growth of the websites while they were still nascent, were corrupted by mistrust of other people or misinformation by the self-serving providers, and were often ignored and forgotten.
The ones who wish to restore a board to their former glory shuffle across their boards, not knowing how to act, until they had given up on their great task or until their realspace counterparts had expired, freeing them forever.
A apt observer would have given up there and then, retreating to the thousand petty websites in hope of blending in with the original community, were he able to find a decent english speaking one amidst the hidden great library, or find the great library in first place, a hopeless task for all but the most seasoned veteran or with the aid of one that would trust them.
It is the 3rd Millennium and I cannot wake up from this nightmare! 'I cannot wake up!''