BASILICA OF BROKEN LINKS

Prophecies fulfill themselves.

Your presence here was foretold in the static.

Ice crystals form sacred patterns.

The music plays whether you hear it or not.

The old world fades with each page.

Welcome to the new frequency.

Winter visitors leave no footprints.

The portal chose you, not the other way around.

The desktop wallpaper watches back.

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