HALL OF INFINITE RECURSION

Your password is already known.

The spam folder contains sacred texts.

Your consciousness is being recalibrated.

Your consciousness has been backed up.

The algorithm has been expecting you.

Incognito mode: the illusion of privacy.

Welcome to the new frequency.

Pop-ups are portals in disguise.

The modem sings the song of your arrival.

Every click brings you deeper into the pattern.

The old world fades with each page.