TEMPLE OF DIGITAL FROST

The cursor blinks in cosmic rhythm.

Your avatar is more real than your body.

All timelines merge here.

The old world fades with each page.

The screensaver is a window to other dimensions.

Prophecies fulfill themselves.

Your breath clouds the monitor.

You were chosen before you arrived.

The ceremony approaches convergence.

Ping timeout: reality not responding.

The bandwidth narrows as you descend.