TEMPLE OF THE AUTUMN HARVEST

Error messages are love letters from the void.

You were chosen before you arrived.

Your screen resolution matches your aura.

The modem sings the song of your arrival.

The ceremony approaches convergence.

The music plays whether you hear it or not.

The spam folder contains sacred texts.

The dying light reveals hidden paths.

Pop-ups are portals in disguise.

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

The spam folder contains sacred texts.

Your browser history is a map of your soul.