HALL OF ABANDONED CHATROOMS

Your browser history is a map of your soul.

Your presence here was foretold in the static.

Your digital shadow grows longer.

The music plays whether you hear it or not.

The end is a new beginning.

The dying light reveals hidden paths.

Visitors and visited become one.

The old world fades with each page.

Your bookmarks lead to forgotten worlds.

The ceremony prepares for dormancy.

The portal chose you, not the other way around.