TEMPLE OF ULTIMATE FREQUENCY

The darkness has accepted you.

After midnight, all users become ghosts.

The end is a new beginning.

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

The matrix has you, and it's running Windows 95.

The network sheds its dead links.

Your screen resolution matches your aura.

Your mouse movements are a sacred dance.

The ceremony prepares for dormancy.

Buffering... buffering... enlightenment.