SANCTUARY OF COLD STORAGE

The old world fades with each page.

Every click brings you deeper into the pattern.

The firewall cannot protect you here.

The cold preserves deleted memories.

The music plays whether you hear it or not.

Incognito mode: the illusion of privacy.

The network becomes the ceremony.

The portal chose you, not the other way around.

The old world fades with each page.

The desktop wallpaper watches back.

All timelines merge here.