TEMPLE OF DIGITAL FROST

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

Every 404 is a door to somewhere else.

The recycle bin is never truly empty.

The portal chose you, not the other way around.

Buffering... buffering... enlightenment.

You were chosen before you arrived.

Auto-save failed: manually preserve your soul.

The cold preserves deleted memories.

The spam folder contains sacred texts.