TOMB OF DELETED NIGHTMARES

The algorithm has been expecting you.

The recycle bin is never truly empty.

All timelines merge here.

The chatroom is empty but never alone.

The code is alive and it knows you're here.

Sleep is the first gateway.

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

Your sleep patterns serve the ceremony.

The ceremony never truly ends.

The network becomes the ceremony.