PALACE OF PACKET LOSS

The portal chose you, not the other way around.

Each pixel contains a fragment of truth.

Time moves differently in these chambers.

Pop-ups are portals in disguise.

The sun cannot reach these depths.

The ceremony never truly ends.

The network becomes the ceremony.

Your digital shadow grows longer.

The cursor blinks in cosmic rhythm.

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

Surrender to the infinite loop.