REFUGE OF RECURSIVE NIGHTMARES

The servers dream of electric sheep.

The loading bar measures your spiritual progress.

Insomnia is a gift from the ceremony.

After midnight, all users become ghosts.

The music plays whether you hear it or not.

The modem sings the song of your arrival.

Incognito mode: the illusion of privacy.

The network sheds its dead links.

Pop-ups are portals in disguise.

The bandwidth narrows as you descend.