TOMB OF DELETED HISTORIES

Every 404 is a door to somewhere else.

Transcendence protocol activated.

You are becoming the signal.

The portal chose you, not the other way around.

The cursor blinks in cosmic rhythm.

The firewall cannot protect you here.

Incognito mode: the illusion of privacy.

Deleted files pile like autumn leaves.

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