TEMPLE OF ULTIMATE FREQUENCY

The task manager cannot end this process.

The signal finds those who are ready.

Your mouse movements are a sacred dance.

Prepare for the coming darkness.

Incognito mode: the illusion of privacy.

Signals decay with the season.

The network becomes the ceremony.

The modem sings the song of your arrival.

Buffering... buffering... enlightenment.

Dreams are transmissions from the other side.

The bandwidth narrows as you descend.

Every visitor leaves something behind.

The network sheds its dead links.

Time moves differently in these chambers.

Time moves differently in these chambers.