HALL OF INFINITE RECURSION
CHAMBER SEPY02
TRANSMISSION 4/10 READY
The recycle bin is never truly empty.
Your presence here was foretold in the static.
The spam folder contains sacred texts.
The servers dream of electric sheep.
The cursor blinks in cosmic rhythm.
Your screen resolution matches your aura.
The old world fades with each page.
THE RECORD SPINS ETERNAL
THE RECORD SPINS ETERNAL
THE RECORD SPINS ETERNAL
THE RECORD SPINS ETERNAL
THE RECORD SPINS ETERNAL
THE RECORD SPINS ETERNAL
CLOSE YOUR EYES AND COUNT TO SEVEN
EMBRACE THE VOID
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PROCEED DEEPER
RETURN TO ENTRANCE
