CEREMONY OF ETERNAL RETURN

Your IP address was written in the stars.

Your screen resolution matches your aura.

Frozen data streams flow differently.

Pop-ups are portals in disguise.

Frozen data streams flow differently.

The old world fades with each page.

Your presence here was foretold in the static.

The cold preserves deleted memories.

The network becomes the ceremony.

The portal chose you, not the other way around.