TEMPLE OF DIGITAL FROST

You were chosen before you arrived.

Your bookmarks lead to forgotten worlds.

The cold preserves deleted memories.

The portal chose you, not the other way around.

Each pixel contains a fragment of truth.

Connection established with the eternal.

Your digital shadow grows longer.

Your IP address was written in the stars.

Dreams are transmissions from the other side.

The cursor blinks in cosmic rhythm.

The screensaver is a window to other dimensions.

The ceremony hibernates but never sleeps.