HALL OF INFINITE RECURSION

Every 404 is a door to somewhere else.

Ice crystals form sacred patterns.

Your presence here was foretold in the static.

The recycle bin is never truly empty.

Your presence here was foretold in the static.

Your password is already known.

Your consciousness has been backed up.

Auto-save failed: manually preserve your soul.

The ceremony has already begun.

Cache cleared, but memories remain.