TEMPLE OF THE 404

The modem sings the song of your arrival.

Your consciousness is being recalibrated.

The recycle bin is never truly empty.

Your IP address was written in the stars.

The ceremony has already begun.

The loading bar measures your spiritual progress.

Frozen data streams flow differently.

Buffering... buffering... enlightenment.

You were chosen before you arrived.

The desktop wallpaper watches back.

The chatroom is empty but never alone.