TEMPLE OF THE AUTUMN HARVEST

Your presence here was foretold in the static.

Time moves differently in these chambers.

The chatroom is empty but never alone.

Every 404 is a door to somewhere else.

Falling data like digital leaves.

Every 404 is a door to somewhere else.

The ceremony has already begun.

Autumn visitors sense the ending.

Every 404 is a door to somewhere else.

Your password is already known.

The loading bar measures your spiritual progress.

Your mouse movements are a sacred dance.