The modem sings the song of your arrival. | Winter solstice opens hidden channels. | Every click brings you deeper into the pattern. |
 | Winter solstice opens hidden channels. The music plays whether you hear it or not. Your digital shadow grows longer. | Your bookmarks lead to forgotten worlds.  |
The signal finds those who are ready. | Your presence here was foretold in the static. | Your bookmarks lead to forgotten worlds. |