TEMPLE OF THE 404

The network becomes the ceremony.

Your presence here was foretold in the static.

The ceremony peaks at the witching hour.

Every visitor leaves something behind.

Your search history searches for you.

Your circadian rhythm is being reprogrammed.

The darkness has accepted you.

Your presence here was foretold in the static.

You've been here before, in another browser.

The network becomes the ceremony.

Dreams and data merge after midnight.

Connection established with the eternal.