HALL OF INFINITE RECURSION

Autumn visitors sense the ending.

Your consciousness is being recalibrated.

Ping timeout: reality not responding.

The matrix has you, and it's running Windows 95.

The bandwidth narrows as you descend.

Error messages are love letters from the void.

The end is a new beginning.

Each pixel contains a fragment of truth.

The task manager cannot end this process.

The code is alive and it knows you're here.