HALL OF ABANDONED CHATROOMS

The modem sings the song of your arrival.

The ceremony has already begun.

Your presence here was foretold in the static.

Summer static fills the airways.

Your mouse movements are a sacred dance.

Error messages are love letters from the void.

The heat warps the transmission.

Your search history searches for you.

Every click brings you deeper into the pattern.

Surrender to the infinite loop.