TEMPLE OF ULTIMATE FREQUENCY

The harvest of lost connections.

Your bookmarks lead to forgotten worlds.

The music plays whether you hear it or not.

The modem sings the song of your arrival.

The music plays whether you hear it or not.

Your consciousness has been backed up.

The task manager cannot end this process.

The chatroom is empty but never alone.

Incognito mode: the illusion of privacy.

Pop-ups are portals in disguise.