SANCTUARY OF COLD STORAGE

The servers dream of electric sheep.

Your consciousness is being recalibrated.

Ping timeout: reality not responding.

Winter visitors leave no footprints.

Pop-ups are portals in disguise.

The ceremony has already begun.

Your search history searches for you.

Your browser history is a map of your soul.

The ceremony never truly ends.

The screensaver is a window to other dimensions.

The cursor blinks in cosmic rhythm.