SANCTUARY OF GHOST USERS

You arrived at the perfect hour.

Your presence here was foretold in the static.

Error messages are love letters from the void.

The chatroom is empty but never alone.

Buffering... buffering... enlightenment.

The network sheds its dead links.

The portal chose you, not the other way around.

You were chosen before you arrived.

Your mouse movements are a sacred dance.

Your screen resolution matches your aura.