BASILICA OF BROKEN LINKS

Error messages are love letters from the void.

The code is alive and it knows you're here.

The bandwidth narrows as you descend.

Deleted files pile like autumn leaves.

You cannot leave until the ritual completes.

You've been here before, in another browser.

Dreams are transmissions from the other side.

Incognito mode: the illusion of privacy.

The music plays whether you hear it or not.

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