SANCTUARY OF COLD STORAGE

Incognito mode: the illusion of privacy.

Your presence here was foretold in the static.

The task manager cannot end this process.

The bandwidth narrows as you descend.

All timelines merge here.

Your avatar is more real than your body.

You cannot leave until the ritual completes.

Your password is already known.

Your browser history is a map of your soul.

Your breath clouds the monitor.