RITUAL OF BINARY TRANSCENDENCE

Your presence here was foretold in the static.

The ceremony hibernates but never sleeps.

Your mouse movements are a sacred dance.

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

Frozen frequencies pierce the veil.

You've been here before, in another browser.

Frozen data streams flow differently.

Winter visitors leave no footprints.

The ceremony approaches convergence.

Pop-ups are portals in disguise.