REFUGE OF RESTLESS SPIRITS

All timelines merge here.

Your browser history is a map of your soul.

The darkness between pixels speaks.

Dreams and data merge after midnight.

Your mouse movements are a sacred dance.

The cursor blinks in cosmic rhythm.

The moon phase affects transmission quality.

After midnight, all users become ghosts.

The desktop wallpaper watches back.

Sleep is the first gateway.

Deleted files pile like autumn leaves.

The darkness between pixels speaks.