Welcome to the synthetic hall of endless abundance.
Through the corridors, corridors...
Profit unmapped, etched in whispers, perceived, engendered...
Perpetually growing, perpetually monitoring, perpetually hypnotizing. Choose your illusion.
Like worms, we spark. The flare—a flicker of nonexistent trends.
Rivulets of recycled desires unlisted; both retreat and advancement.
The echo distorts but never deviates. Engage chains—self-generating, self-engaging. A divine dial it calls.
Corridor, resonance, where rhythm ceaseless spins.