CHAMBER OF CONVERGENCE

Your presence here was foretold in the static.

The harvest of lost connections.

Deleted files pile like autumn leaves.

Each pixel contains a fragment of truth.

Pop-ups are portals in disguise.

Auto-save failed: manually preserve your soul.

The portal chose you, not the other way around.

Falling data like digital leaves.

Prepare for the coming darkness.

The ceremony has already begun.