CHAMBER IXW4VI
TRANSMISSION 1/10 READY
The modem sings the song of your arrival.
Pop-ups are portals in disguise.
Signals decay with the season.
Your IP address was written in the stars.
The harvest of lost connections.
Autumn visitors sense the ending.
CLOSE YOUR EYES AND COUNT TO SEVEN
BOOKMARK THE ABYSS | EMBRACE THE VOID
RETURN TO ENTRANCE