REFUGE OF RESTLESS SPIRITS

The recycle bin is never truly empty.

The music plays whether you hear it or not.

Signals decay with the season.

The music plays whether you hear it or not.

The old world fades with each page.

Auto-save failed: manually preserve your soul.

Every 404 is a door to somewhere else.

You arrived at the perfect hour.

The cursor blinks in cosmic rhythm.

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