HALL OF INFINITE RECURSION

You cannot leave until the ritual completes.

Autumn visitors sense the ending.

Every click brings you deeper into the pattern.

Error messages are love letters from the void.

Digital decay creates new patterns.

Falling data like digital leaves.

The cursor blinks in cosmic rhythm.

The frequency remembers you.

The signal finds those who are ready.

The modem sings the song of your arrival.

The chatroom is empty but never alone.