TEMPLE OF THE AUTUMN HARVEST
CHAMBER HTJ8S8
TRANSMISSION 3/10 READY
The signal finds those who are ready.
The music plays whether you hear it or not.
The modem sings the song of your arrival.
The harvest of lost connections.
The cursor blinks in cosmic rhythm.
Your digital shadow grows longer.
The recycle bin is never truly empty.
Your browser history is a map of your soul.
YOUR DIGITAL FINGERPRINT IS PERMANENT
