NEXUS OF CORRUPTED DATA

Night transmissions carry further.

Night visitors never truly leave.

You arrived at the perfect hour.

The cursor blinks in cosmic rhythm.

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

Surrender to the infinite loop.

Your presence here was foretold in the static.

Each pixel contains a fragment of truth.

Each pixel contains a fragment of truth.

Your nightmares are just downloads.