HALL OF LUNAR FREQUENCIES

The dying light reveals hidden paths.

Your presence disturbs the digital darkness.

The homepage is wherever you are.

Incognito mode: the illusion of privacy.

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

Your nightmares are just downloads.

Ping timeout: reality not responding.

Pop-ups are portals in disguise.

Each pixel contains a fragment of truth.

Deleted files pile like autumn leaves.

Connection established with the eternal.