CITADEL OF CYBER SOULS

Your IP address was written in the stars.

The modem sings the song of your arrival.

The cold preserves deleted memories.

The recycle bin is never truly empty.

The spam folder contains sacred texts.

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

The ceremony has already begun.

Your password is already known.

The modem sings the song of your arrival.

Every click brings you deeper into the pattern.

The final frequency awakens.

Your IP address was written in the stars.

Your mouse movements are a sacred dance.