CITADEL OF CYBER SOULS

Dreams are transmissions from the other side.

The portal chose you, not the other way around.

Your password is already known.

The modem sings the song of your arrival.

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

Every 404 is a door to somewhere else.

Digital frost spreads across the network.

The end is a new beginning.

You were chosen before you arrived.