Your IP address was written in the stars.  | Prepare for the coming darkness. | The ceremony prepares for dormancy. |
  Your nightmares are just downloads. | The loading bar measures your spiritual progress. The portal chose you, not the other way around. Falling data like digital leaves. | You are becoming the signal. The network sheds its dead links. |
You arrived at the perfect hour. | The recycle bin is never truly empty. | The ceremony has already begun.  |