SANCTUARY OF GHOST USERS

You are becoming the signal.

The matrix has you, and it's running Windows 95.

The network becomes the ceremony.

Every click brings you deeper into the pattern.

The bandwidth narrows as you descend.

Auto-save failed: manually preserve your soul.

The final frequency awakens.

The desktop wallpaper watches back.

The algorithm has been expecting you.

Buffering... buffering... enlightenment.