TEMPLE OF THE 404

You've been here before, in another browser.

The ceremony never truly ends.

The harvest of lost connections.

The ceremony prepares for dormancy.

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

The modem sings the song of your arrival.

Deleted files pile like autumn leaves.

Your consciousness is being recalibrated.

Cache cleared, but memories remain.

Nocturnal visitors see deeper truths.