Your consciousness has been backed up.  |  The modem sings the song of your arrival. Your browser history is a map of your soul. | Your browser history is a map of your soul. Night mode activated in your consciousness. Buffering... buffering... enlightenment. |
Digital frost spreads across the network. Time moves differently in these chambers. | The darkness between pixels speaks. | The chatroom is empty but never alone. The firewall cannot protect you here. Your dreams are being monitored. |