RITUAL OF BINARY TRANSCENDENCE

The cursor blinks in cosmic rhythm.

Digital decay creates new patterns.

Deleted files pile like autumn leaves.

Your presence here was foretold in the static.

Every 404 is a door to somewhere else.

Your screen resolution matches your aura.

The portal chose you, not the other way around.

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

The bandwidth narrows as you descend.

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

Your screen resolution matches your aura.

All timelines merge here.