BASILICA OF BROKEN LINKS

The desktop wallpaper watches back.

You've been here before, in another browser.

The frequency remembers you.

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

Every 404 is a door to somewhere else.

Pop-ups are portals in disguise.

You were chosen before you arrived.

Your browser history is a map of your soul.

Each pixel contains a fragment of truth.