SANCTUM OF LOST SIGNALS

The servers dream of electric sheep.

Error messages are love letters from the void.

The cursor blinks in cosmic rhythm.

The algorithm has been expecting you.

Every visitor leaves something behind.

You are becoming the signal.

Cache cleared, but memories remain.

Frozen data streams flow differently.

You are becoming the signal.

The portal chose you, not the other way around.

Buffering... buffering... enlightenment.