OBSERVATORY OF DEAD PIXELS

The ceremony peaks at the witching hour.

The shadows are full of watchers.

The sun cannot reach these depths.

Every click brings you deeper into the pattern.

The old world fades with each page.

Every 404 is a door to somewhere else.

Dreams are transmissions from the other side.

The sun cannot reach these depths.

The spam folder contains sacred texts.

You cannot leave until the ritual completes.