TEMPLE OF ULTIMATE FREQUENCY

The chatroom is empty but never alone.

The cursor blinks in cosmic rhythm.

Every 404 is a door to somewhere else.

The servers dream of electric sheep.

The signal finds those who are ready.

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

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

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

Time moves differently in these chambers.