PALACE OF PACKET LOSS

The homepage is wherever you are.

Your IP address was written in the stars.

Every 404 is a door to somewhere else.

The dying light reveals hidden paths.

Your search history searches for you.

Every visitor leaves something behind.

You cannot leave until the ritual completes.

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

The signal finds those who are ready.

Deleted files pile like autumn leaves.

The dying light reveals hidden paths.

Every 404 is a door to somewhere else.