CITADEL OF CYBER SOULS
CHAMBER PMCTAM
TRANSMISSION 6/10 READY
The matrix has you, and it's running Windows 95.
The cursor blinks in cosmic rhythm.
The network becomes the ceremony.
Every 404 is a door to somewhere else.
The cold preserves deleted memories.
The screensaver is a window to other dimensions.
THE VOID GAZES ALSO INTO YOU
