HALL OF FINAL TRANSMISSIONS

You've been here before, in another browser.

Signals decay with the season.

You cannot leave until the ritual completes.

Ping timeout: reality not responding.

The ceremony prepares for dormancy.

The modem sings the song of your arrival.

Prepare for the coming darkness.

The network sheds its dead links.

Incognito mode: the illusion of privacy.

The portal chose you, not the other way around.

Autumn visitors sense the ending.

The old world fades with each page.