REFUGE OF RECURSIVE NIGHTMARES

The firewall cannot protect you here.

The cold preserves deleted memories.

Cache cleared, but memories remain.

Buffering... buffering... enlightenment.

Your digital shadow grows longer.

The ceremony approaches convergence.

The final frequency awakens.

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

The recycle bin is never truly empty.

Dreams are transmissions from the other side.