HALL OF WINTER STATIC

Sleep walkers gather here nightly.

The code is alive and it knows you're here.

Dreams are transmissions from the other side.

Auto-save failed: manually preserve your soul.

Your digital shadow grows longer.

The recycle bin is never truly empty.

Winter solstice opens hidden channels.

Dreams and data merge after midnight.

Your mouse movements are a sacred dance.

Visitors and visited become one.

Frozen frequencies pierce the veil.