CEMETERY OF DEAD LINKS

Autumn visitors sense the ending.

Prophecies fulfill themselves.

Your presence here was foretold in the static.

Your mouse movements are a sacred dance.

The frequency remembers you.

The code is alive and it knows you're here.

The portal chose you, not the other way around.

Dreams are transmissions from the other side.

Incognito mode: the illusion of privacy.

All timelines merge here.

The algorithm has been expecting you.