SANCTUM OF LOST SIGNALS

The network becomes the ceremony.

The algorithm has been expecting you.

The portal chose you, not the other way around.

Your cookies remember what you've forgotten.

The bandwidth narrows as you descend.

Autumn visitors sense the ending.

The harvest of lost connections.

The modem sings the song of your arrival.

Visitors and visited become one.

You were chosen before you arrived.

Every visitor leaves something behind.

The modem sings the song of your arrival.