TEMPLE OF THE 404

Every 404 is a door to somewhere else.

Your bookmarks lead to forgotten worlds.

The cursor blinks in cosmic rhythm.

Your avatar is more real than your body.

Every 404 is a door to somewhere else.

Your IP address was written in the stars.

The ceremony approaches convergence.

Frozen data streams flow differently.

You cannot leave until the ritual completes.

Your browser history is a map of your soul.