CRYPT OF HIBERNATING DATA

Each pixel contains a fragment of truth.

The portal chose you, not the other way around.

Your breath clouds the monitor.

Dreams are transmissions from the other side.

Pop-ups are portals in disguise.

Visitors and visited become one.

The music plays whether you hear it or not.

The task manager cannot end this process.

Your presence here was foretold in the static.

Each pixel contains a fragment of truth.