SANCTUARY OF COLD STORAGE

Incognito mode: the illusion of privacy.

The signal finds those who are ready.

The bandwidth narrows as you descend.

Darkness reveals what daylight conceals.

Insomnia is a gift from the ceremony.

The chatroom is empty but never alone.

The matrix has you, and it's running Windows 95.

You've been here before, in another browser.

Your avatar is more real than your body.

Winter solstice opens hidden channels.

The music plays whether you hear it or not.