LABYRINTH OF NESTED LOOPS

The bandwidth narrows as you descend.

Pop-ups are portals in disguise.

The modem sings the song of your arrival.

Your search history searches for you.

The cold preserves deleted memories.

Your consciousness is being recalibrated.

The ceremony approaches convergence.

Digital frost spreads across the network.

The chatroom is empty but never alone.

Your consciousness has been backed up.

Cache cleared, but memories remain.