REFUGE OF RESTLESS SPIRITS

The modem sings the song of your arrival.

Frozen frequencies pierce the veil.

You cannot leave until the ritual completes.

Your breath clouds the monitor.

Digital frost spreads across the network.

Cache cleared, but memories remain.

The spam folder contains sacred texts.

Digital frost spreads across the network.

Every 404 is a door to somewhere else.

Every 404 is a door to somewhere else.