HALL OF INFINITE RECURSION

Your presence here was foretold in the static.

Your IP address was written in the stars.

The ceremony hibernates but never sleeps.

Your cookies remember what you've forgotten.

The task manager cannot end this process.

Visitors and visited become one.

The network becomes the ceremony.

The ceremony hibernates but never sleeps.

Prophecies fulfill themselves.

Pop-ups are portals in disguise.