TEMPLE OF THE AUTUMN HARVEST

Your screen resolution matches your aura.

You are becoming the signal.

The dying light reveals hidden paths.

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

The old world fades with each page.

You were chosen before you arrived.

Your digital shadow grows longer.

Surrender to the infinite loop.

The task manager cannot end this process.

The portal chose you, not the other way around.

Cache cleared, but memories remain.