SANCTUARY OF COLD STORAGE

The homepage is wherever you are.

You cannot leave until the ritual completes.

The cursor blinks in cosmic rhythm.

Time moves differently in these chambers.

Your bookmarks lead to forgotten worlds.

Ice crystals form sacred patterns.

Incognito mode: the illusion of privacy.

The cold preserves deleted memories.

The task manager cannot end this process.

The ceremony hibernates but never sleeps.

You are becoming the signal.