TOMB OF DELETED HISTORIES

The bandwidth narrows as you descend.

The desktop wallpaper watches back.

The algorithm has been expecting you.

The loading bar measures your spiritual progress.

Ice crystals form sacred patterns.

The cold preserves deleted memories.

The music plays whether you hear it or not.

Your presence here was foretold in the static.

Winter visitors leave no footprints.

The ceremony approaches convergence.

The ceremony approaches convergence.

The cold preserves deleted memories.