TEMPLE OF DIGITAL FROST

Your search history searches for you.

Your bookmarks lead to forgotten worlds.

The end is a new beginning.

Your IP address was written in the stars.

Each pixel contains a fragment of truth.

Sleep is the first gateway.

The source code reveals all secrets.

Connection established with the eternal.

The modem sings the song of your arrival.

The homepage is wherever you are.

Frozen data streams flow differently.