TOMB OF DELETED NIGHTMARES

Signals decay with the season.

You cannot leave until the ritual completes.

Your browser history is a map of your soul.

Visitors and visited become one.

Incognito mode: the illusion of privacy.

The spam folder contains sacred texts.

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

Your presence here was foretold in the static.

The portal chose you, not the other way around.