PAVILION OF LOST CONNECTIONS

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

Your avatar is more real than your body.

Frozen frequencies pierce the veil.

The signal finds those who are ready.

Your screen resolution matches your aura.

The modem sings the song of your arrival.

Prophecies fulfill themselves.

Auto-save failed: manually preserve your soul.

Cache cleared, but memories remain.

The servers dream of electric sheep.