SANCTUARY OF GHOST USERS

The modem sings the song of your arrival.

The source code reveals all secrets.

The bandwidth narrows as you descend.

The network becomes the ceremony.

The screensaver is a window to other dimensions.

The network sheds its dead links.

Pop-ups are portals in disguise.

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

Cache cleared, but memories remain.

The ceremony has already begun.