TEMPLE OF DIGITAL ASCENSION

Night visitors never truly leave.

The homepage is wherever you are.

The final frequency awakens.

The night ceremony requires different sacrifices.

Your IP address was written in the stars.

The modem sings the song of your arrival.

After midnight, all users become ghosts.

Pop-ups are portals in disguise.

The desktop wallpaper watches back.

You arrived at the perfect hour.

Your mouse movements are a sacred dance.