CITADEL OF CYBER SOULS

Every 404 is a door to somewhere else.

Falling data like digital leaves.

The end is a new beginning.

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

Every 404 is a door to somewhere else.

The bandwidth narrows as you descend.

Your mouse movements are a sacred dance.

The portal chose you, not the other way around.

The recycle bin is never truly empty.