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Grimoire of Amaymon by E.A. Koetting is a selection from the six-grimoire compendium, Lucifer: The Enlightener, Volume Two, from the Nine Demonic Gatekeepers Saga series. Order
the complete compendium at: BecomeALivingGod.com.

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Consider this adult knowledge and not legal or medical advice. Become A Living God is not responsible for consequences of actions. This book is for readers of age 18 or older.

Credits
Authors: E.A. Koetting
Editor: Timothy Donaghue
Publisher: Become A Living God
 CONTENTS
Timothy - Prologue
E.A. Koetting - The Grimoire of Amaymon
Introduction
Ch. 1 - The Serpent's Breath
Ch. 2 - Darkness Communion
Ch. 3 - Evocation of Lucifer-Amaymon
Ch. 4 - Blind Sight
Ch. 5 - Scrying Into Black
Become A Living God
 Prologue
Revolution • Utopia • Homo Deus
Timothy the Editor

“They only call it class warfare when the slaves fight back.”
 REVOLUTION is afoot.
Rapid thunderclaps of machine gunfire bounce off city walls in Northern Syria. Brata-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat!
An out of the closet homosexual gunner now wears a scent of sulfur and metal, the signature perfume of Lucifer.
At this moment, his LGBT guerilla army combats against gay-murdering jihadist group ISIS. A literal queer war ensues in streets of the desert city Raqqa.
An armed Rainbow Revolution rages in the heart of the Middle East.

Late StaGe Fascism

Fascist as a term of demonization has regrettably become a rhetorical cliché in Western political dialectic amongst sanctimonious keyboard warriors. They shotgun this blistering accusation
indiscriminately: every leftist is a Feminazi; every rightist is a Neo-Nazi—or so each side insists. Even worse, innocent onlookers who have never studied Ancient Roman, Italian, Japanese or
German Fascism see only a grade school food fight of half-baked ideas and disregard it entirely.
Nevertheless, a sober definition can immediately demystify this mass hysteria. In essence, fascism simply means hyper-nationalism or hyper-tribalism or hyper-imperialism. A concept from
the Imperium Romanum (Roman Empire) with Latin etymology, a fasces entails a bundle of sticks strapped together to suggest collective unity, with an axe head atop it to suggest capital
punishment specifically beheading. The single axe refers to a single authoritarian figure and the bundle of sticks refers to a patriotic citizenry that supports this emperor or dictator. Altogether, it
connotes a deadly serious message akin to “join or die” or “with us or against us.” As such, the fasces has become the official icon of empire and nation over millennia. For example, the
Republican Fascist Party of Italy under dictator Benito Mussolini adorned their flag with a fasces; the United States hangs two large fasces on a front wall in the House of Representatives; the
National Emblem of France contains a fasces behind a shield. Many imperious forces across history from Ancient Rome to France to Italy to Japan to Germany to the United States have
normalized two icons into their heraldry: the fasces and the eagle.

Actual Fascism
True fascism features numerous hallmarks:

Mandatory patriotism:

This includes mandatory military service, military parades, portraits of politicians on walls, and compulsory salutes.

Veneration of a messianic authority figure:

This “white knight” acts as a savior to redeem a nation; they use a paternal nickname like Il Duce, Führer or Dear Leader.

Belligerent invasion and occupation of other nation-states

Obsession with racial purity and genetic superiority:

This includes inhumane medical experiments, crackpot racialist theories, idealization of bodily features, husbandry, i.e., eugenics.

Genocide or deportation of mixed race, disabled, queer, poor, mentally ill, criminal, and immigrant peoples, i.e., dysgenics
Industrial collusion between corporations and state
Propaganda:

State domination of ideology, required study of a false national history, prohibition of free thought and speech with a ban on dissident literature, and classification of protestors as
terrorists.

Mandatory religion:

This entails compulsory participation in prayer, ceremony, holy days, and religious law.

Revival of ancestral paganism:

This might involve a quest to find legendary artefacts, literalist interpretations of creationist mythology, and magick in combat.
Needless to say, that last one—revival of paganism—remains neutral and open to contextual interpretation; paganism alone certainly does not qualify a person as fascist, lest your humble
author himself be slandered.
Under a strict anarchist definition, every single nation-state in existence classifies as fascist to a varying extent because every nation militarily enforces segregation of the human species into
antagonistic groups and divides planet earth into artificial territories like prison cells. These manmade barriers interfere with human access to natural resources that everyone needs to survive as a
free-living animal. Therefore, a nation-state as an entity robs the birthright inheritance of human beings. In this early libertarian sense, a nation-state enforces artificial poverty and criminalizes
the very freedom to live—not to mention freedom of travel and association across manmade barriers, as well as freedom of thought and speech.
When men refrain from inventing artifices to keep themselves in barbarism, only then will they gradually raise themselves from it.
—Immanuel Kant, What is Enlightenment?

FIRST LUCIFERIAN LANTERN

Dear reader, if you ever find yourself in a moral or political dilemma, let this one simple maxim act as an undying Luciferian lantern to light your journey: Less freedom is never the answer.
In a survey of countries today, two undeniably strange examples of late stage fascism dominate the Western imagination: The Islamic State and North Korea. The latter is a calcified relic
from last century. Its history in one sentence: Imperialist Japan colonized Korea in 1910, whereby they adopted Japanese fascist ideology of racial superiority calling themselves the “cleanest
race,” worshiping a semi-divine authority figure, and rolling out mandatory military service; Japanese rule died in 1945 but this anachronistic fascism has been preserved in North Korea like a
rare dinosaur bone in a museum through 2018.
As for the “motherlode of bad ideas” as secularist Sam Harris calls it, the Islamic State a.k.a. Daesh is founded on militant Sharia Law, a fascist ideology petrified into a fossil from the
eighth century. Earlier in this Prologue, the author referenced a Rainbow Revolution that transpires in Raqqa, Syria. Perhaps an abridged history might provide context to this beautifully morbid
conflict: A Sunni Islamist named Osama bin Laden founded a military collective called Al Qaeda in Afghanistan in 1988 with a core ambition to establish a single global empire under medieval
Sharia Law, i.e., a threefold patriarchal caliphate:

1. Allah: Male ruler of creation

2. Caliph: Male ruler of religious state
3. Father: Male ruler of family

As an aside, many Muslims disagree with extremist interpretations of pronouns in the Quran that genderize Allah as male.
The Al Qaeda franchise in Iraq renamed itself the Islamic State of Iraq (ISI) in 2004; then when neighboring country Syria descended into civil war, ISI invaded and dominated it, and
renamed itself the Islamic State of Iraq and Syria (ISIS) in 2013. ISIS reached a new height of toxic masculinity when they abducted and beheaded innocent journalists and ceremonially tossed
unarmed gay men off rooftops. They filmed these nauseating deaths, edited them into videos, and mailed them to families of victims as if to say, “Fuck you. We killed your kid. Fight us!” In
other words, they acted out classic textbook terrorism—bona fide psychopathy with a clear political mission without a trace of empathy.

Actual Anti-Fascism
Meanwhile tech-friendly, socially-aware Millennials and Generation Z’ers in war-torn Syria have borne witness to elder generations suffering these inhumane atrocities under ISIS
occupation; these youngsters also simultaneously see on Youtube, Facebook, and Twitter how secularism and alternative lifestyles have normalized into mainstream Western civilization. This
monolithic collision of antithetical cultures in Syria has birthed a new generation of phoenixes who rise from the ashes of this oil-rich country. A revolutionary people’s guerilla movement
ascends today particularly amongst members of the gay community. In fact, they united under pink and rainbow flags in a militia called The Queer Insurrection and Liberation Army in Raqqa
City in 2017—their name abbreviated into TQILA and pronounced like tequila. Together with a larger coalition of rebel forces, they have defeated ISIS in crucial battles and even forced them to
retreat and surrender occupied land!
To reiterate this with crystal clarity: in a country where jihadists have ritualistically castrated men into eunuchs for nearly a decade, an LGBT liberation army has taken arms against them
and comes out measurably victorious. One can only imagine this queer insurgency not only enrages the bearded, black-booted, testosterone-crazed warriors of ISIS, but it trolls the living shit out
of them in front of the entire world. The big, bad machismo soldiers are currently losing to a ragtag band of queers with outdated weapons.
When they declared their existence, TQILA released a photograph accompanying a one-page manifesto. It features seven armed rebels in facemasks whom stand atop rubble and hoist a
banner that gloriously exclaims: “These faggots kill fascists.”
Their excoriating little manifesto says paraphrased:
TQILA's members have watched in horror as fascist and extremist forces around the world have attacked the Queer community and murdered countless of our community members
citing that they are “ill,” “sick” and “unnatural.” The images of gay men being thrown off roofs and stoned to death by ISIS was something we could not idly watch. It is also not only ISIS
whose hatred leads to religiously motivated hatred and attacks. Christian conservatives in the global northwest have also attacked LGBT*QI+ peoples in an attempt to silence and erase their
existence. We stand in solidarity against fascism, tyranny and oppression.
 Dear reader, let me insist with full sincerity and with a straight face that these rebels qualify as the coolest, most courageous, most Luciferian people on earth today. They singlehandedly
cause Homo sapiens to evolve as a whole species every time they fire a bullet at rabid fascists.
A clairvoyant can almost see the hand of Lucifer pulling the trigger finger of the gunner.
Something weird is happening.

Late Stage Celebrity

That term coolest might seem inappropriate or pretentious in this context but it contains essential pertinence. It begs the question: what is cool? Conventionally, cool means hip, fashionable, à
la mode, that is to say a person exemplifies culture of their time. However, this definition contradicts itself because it essentially means a person becomes cool when they act like a follower.
People often refer to popular musicians, actors, and models as “cool” but those formulaic celebrities typically embody a stereotype or cliché that a team of statisticians and focus group specialists
have arranged through a quantitative analysis of normal people. For example, a record executive tells a coder to run a bot that scrapes a million Twitter accounts of women between ages 15 to 25,
it harvests the top 10 most common romantic themes and hashtags found in their tweets, then passes these findings to a ghost songwriter who revises them into a boilerplate song, wherefore a pop
star sings these alien lyrics off a screen into a microphone, whereby women of that demographic consume it and swear their favorite singer can see into their soul. These corporate executives just
rinse and repeat with every demographic. This shallow, soulless, industrialized coolness circulates like currency in their neoliberal echo chambers. It explains why disposable celebrities look and
sound virtually identical; their death spiral of phony greatness accelerates exponentially like a viral bioweapon. This vapid paint-by-numbers tradition of coolness seems to have cannibalized
itself when airheaded socialites became “famous for being famous”—an absurdist rationalization to justify the signature hyper-nihilism that comes from late stage celebrity. For the first time
ever, modern peasants saw the wizard behind the curtain and rediscovered an old truth: that whoever holds the gold makes the rules; that “cool” culture hitherto has been a demagogic formula of
the idle rich that descended from their white-gloved aristocratic ancestors who distributed bread and circuses.
The fatal error occurred when The Rich☐ abandoned their tried and true tradition of cookie cutter celebredom and just nakedly allowed their ignoramus children to become famous for
having been born into extreme privilege; in other words, executives no longer tried to mask their stars in boilerplate talent. In fact, the more absurdly out of touch with common folks these
disrespectful, gold-spooned teenagers acted, the more famous they became. But it came at a lethal cost, namely, that modern peasants soberly recognized en masse their neo-feudal standing in
contemporary plutocratic society. “But what are they famous for? They’re just spoiled brats!” implored basically everyone.
The ancient tribal virtue of heroic fame became a vice—infamy—for the first time. The mythical archetype of a “hero’s journey” where a white knight saves the tribe and receives eternal
glory culminated into children of the rich harassing poor employees at Walmart on reality television. From Ancient Greece through Elizabethan England to Hollywood United States, theater had
always provided a safe space where peasants could vulgarly belittle their overlords and escape from the chronic drudgery of miserable serfdom, but now suddenly television reflected their
serfdom back at them and their overlords vulgarly belittled them instead. It was no longer a show but plain reality, i.e., pretty privileged white kids acting entitled. Fake coolness came full circle
and swallowed itself. Celebration of inherited wealth and social elitism switched from à la mode to démodé overnight.
The reader will recall the conventional definition of cool: to exemplify the times, which as a peasant means to emulate celebrities whom parade The Times☐. But the reader will also recall
that these celebrities merely rent their bodies to corporate executives who rent their bodies to private shareholders whom own the means of production and ultimately dictate which ideologies,
critiques, and optics undergo distribution. This is called propaganda. It has occurred since the invention of stone tablets.
This phony rent-a-celebrity culture has reached a white-hot boiling point and now bubbles angrily like water in a tea kettle. Fatal blowback occurs in broad daylight—the celebrities literally
just hang themselves. This morbid phenomenon of late where famous people walk off a cliff one after the other in a long row of suicides evidences a new watermark in decadent culture. Your
humble author calls it late stage celebrity.
It has always seemed odd to civilians when the Rich and Famous☐ suffer chronic depression, become drug addicts, or have meltdowns because superficially they appear to be lavish and
carefree. But that explains it entirely: they have fed their souls to an Old World leviathan. Many of these Artists☐ know their Art☐ helps to manufacture propaganda that further indoctrinates an
ancient power hierarchy between classes. So the noblest among these celebrities commit Seppuku. They off themselves.
This main idea deserves a Nietzschean hammer blow: As long as an extremely tiny ownership class dominates production and distribution, they will forever, always, and only circulate
propaganda that justifies and furthers their economic dominance—and they enforce that dominance through modern nation-states as they did through medieval kingdoms as they did through early
tribal dominions.
“But Timothy! Propaganda involves distribution of state ideology, not corporations. Why so cynical? You eat Whole Foods☐ and drink Starbucks☐ and use an Apple☐ laptop to shop on
Amazon☐ with a Wells Fargo☐ card. Can’t you just be happy?” pleads a triggered bootlicker.
Calm your heart, little one. Let Timothy wipe that spittle of Kool-Aid from your lips. In fairness, cyanide does look like sugar. No more red pills, here, take this black one.

Second Luciferian Lantern

A second Luciferian lantern to illuminate your travels: Whoever holds the gold makes the rules.
The rulers do not make the rules; they make rules for whomever gives them gold. Similar to a Celebrity☐ and an Executive☐, a Politician☐ rents their body to a Shareholder☐. A
politician is a white-collar prostitute—a rude insult to honest sex workers. A prostitute rents out her sex to feed her children; a politician rents out his vote for a third yacht.
Perhaps a syllogistic riddle can elaborate. Three people sit in a room: a politician, a military general, and a rich man. Which one possesses true power? A citizen can violate a law and never
get caught, which proves the politician does not possess absolute power. A soldier can desert an army and never get caught, which proves the military general does not possess absolute power.
But a human cannot neglect the need to eat and get away with it, which proves that whoever holds the gold truly makes the rules.
Money is materialized power. Timothy in the Bible said, “Money is the root of all evil.” But Timothy in the Compendium of Lucifer says: Money is the root of all power—under a fascist
system like state-capitalism. To exemplify this, when the Islamic State invaded Syria, they immediately took over its oil fields and nicknamed them “black gold.” Because whoever holds the gold
makes the rules.
Dear friend, you live in a plutocracy that fronts as a late stage republic. The ancient Roman and Greek god Pluto, formerly called Hades, reigned over the underworld where humans mine
precious metals, gems, and stones in his subterranean caves; thus, over time he became recognized as god of wealth. This term plutocracy derives from this mythos; ploutos means wealth and
kratia means authority or rule. Quite simply, plutocracy means that the rich rule, and they rule on earth as a matter of fact. Anyone who tries to tell you otherwise harbors unresolved sympathies
to fascism that have been anchored to the ocean floor of their heart through careful insidious indoctrination shaped over millennia.
But who are these lucky fateful few who inherited this absolute power? Who are these gods of the underworld who own production, who own distribution, who own the face of planet
Earth☐ and soon Mars☐?

Late Stage Capitalism

“There’s class warfare alright, but it’s my class, the rich class, that’s making war and we’re winning.”
—Warren Buffet, former world’s richest man
Whether capitalist, socialist or mixed, emerging facts about extreme wealth disparity scare everyone. Real estate billionaire Donald Trump won his presidential election in the United States
on a reactionary pledge to federally redistribute jobs from undocumented workers to poor evangelical Christians through resurrection of dead coal mines, trade protectionism, and migrant
deportation. Concurrently, futurist techno-billionaires like Elon Musk, Richard Branson, Mark Zuckerberg, Chris Hughes, Stewart Butterfield, and Bill Gates espouse a universal basic income for
every citizen to bridge a widening class divide due to accelerating labor automation, which prognosticators warn will cause a “job apocalypse.”
Regardless of whether the reader personally cares about inequality, or whether a job redistribution and universal basic income would help or harm society, or whether artificially intelligent
robots will largely replace human labor, an undeniably intriguing paradox remains: Why do these titans of industry who profit-monger, subsidy-gobble, and penny-pinch suddenly aspire to “save
jobs” and distribute “free money” to everyone’s bank accounts once a month? Why do these mad plutocrats scramble to align heaven and earth from atop their subterranean thrones?
Hmmm… can you smell it? A whiff of sulfur, a trace of metal, the signature perfume of Lucifer wafts again; his presence surfaces like ectoplasm.
Something weird is happening.
Four words demystify this phenomenon: Let them eat cake. “Qu’ils mangent de la brioche.”
One cannot help but to imagine a stone-faced, gold-hoarding, omnipotent French queen decreeing, “Let them eat cake!” whereby her squire parks a carriage full of stale brioches (pastries) in
a city square to feed an agitated mass of starving unwashed subjects—because if her peasants die, who will farm her fields, ranch her cattle, and fight her wars? Or worse, peasants might finally
unite into a people’s army and overthrow her monarchical tyranny altogether—one decapitated landlord at a time—by the by French peasants in fact did this in a brief triumph of the human spirit
called the French Revolution. Alas, proto-fascist Napoleon Bonaparte rose to imperial power in a counterinsurgent coup d'état that punctuated a decade of Jacobin anarchy.
As an aside: Marie-Antoinette the queen-bride of King Louis XVI did not say this infamous quotation as usually believed but rather an earlier Spanish princess Marie-Thérèse who married
King Louis XIV in 1660. Moreover, this often-mythicized quotation did not actually decree a royal distribution of pastry to peasants. Brioche cost much more than plain bread in medieval times,
thus political critics would misattribute “Let them eat cake” to aristocrats as rhetoric to emphasize their privilege—it implies that a rich noble lives in such a bubble that they did not know serfs
cannot afford fancy pastry. As a modern equivalent, if First Lady Melania Trump were to say, “Let them eat caviar” as an idea to combat hunger.

Third Luciferian Lantern

Dear reader, a third Luciferian lantern to blaze your trail: the rulers need you, you do not need them. If you have not consented to being ruled, then any claim of ownership over you becomes
null and void, at which point you become an illegalist, in other words, a free human animal who lives in ethical disregard of unethical laws. Dislike a law? Disobey it. Sorry, not sorry!
Plutocratic propaganda like a universal basic income and jobs redistribution clearly evidences that Western civilization has hit an economic watermark colloquially known as late stage
capitalism. In essence, it refers to a penultimate stage of economic decay, i.e., the second to last stage. Needless to say, last stage capitalism would mean ultimate, that is, when wealth
segregation between plutocratic and civilian classes stretches to such an extreme that a people’s revolution assembles and “Storms the Bastille” as it were. This, dear reader, demystifies why
billionaires wish to urgently circulate economic Band-Aids, stitches, and glues to close social wounds as long as possible. But, my friend, no amount of Band-Aids and last-minute rations can
heal a terminal cancer.
A global charity called Oxfam International released a study in 2017 on planet Earth’s current distribution of wealth. It found that:

Eight men own the same amount of wealth as the lower half of the human population. 8 men = 3.8 billion humans
1% of the population owns more than the lower 99% combined.
 To truly contextualize these factoids in plutocratic terms, substitute “power” in place of “wealth.” It turns into:

Eight men have power over half the human population.

1% of the population has power over 99%.

Classical economists have traditionally defined money as a store of value, unit of account, and means of exchange. Humans invented money in concept; it has not emerged amongst other
species of animals, besides a few rare instances in monkeys, because it requires an intellect. Out of millions of animal species, money only matters to one: Homo sapiens. Your humble author
hereby declares a new, postmodern definition of money: the measure of power over humans—because whoever holds the gold makes the rules.
Millennials coined a slang phrase, “Stay woke.” The “wokest” insight into the twenty-first century landscape is this: Humans are slaves under a tyrannical global plutocracy. Political
elections and legislations are ceremonial. Plutocrats furnish their candidates, fund their campaigns, lobby their legislation, and hire them in retirement. The subordinate political class rents itself
out to the dominant plutocratic class.
These charts below entail modernized power hierarchies that have been condensed and simplified into three common denominator classes: (1) plutocratic, (2) political, and (3) civilian. Gray
areas, overlaps, switches, combinations, and counterbalances certainly exist between and betwixt them. Regardless, these admitted oversimplifications provide an approximation of where true
power resides.
Modern state-capitalist hierarchy:

Plutocratic class: Shareholders, bondholders, bankers, capital owners, landowners

Political class: Legislators, judges, military, police
Civilian class: Employees, consumer debtors
Medieval feudal hierarchy:
Political class: Monarch, aristocrats
Plutocratic class: Shareholders, bondholders, bankers, landowners
Civilian class: Peasants, indentured servants, chattel slaves

The reader will identify that under modern state-capitalism, the plutocratic class has risen above the law of the political class. An absolute class switch occurred between plutocrats and
politicians, wherefore the ownership class rose from inferior to superior in standing. This clarifies why plutocrats often escape criminal punishment while civilians do not.
But why did this fundamental class switch transpire?

Antinomian Dialectic
Two groundbreaking antinomian ideologies emerged out the late Middle Ages as humanity entered early modernism—both of which the aristocratic ruling class tried desperately to suppress.
The fiery dialectic between these two new schools of thought fostered the Age of Enlightenment, which inevitably rendered unfettered monarchy obsolete:

Right wing: republican-capitalism

Overthrow monarchy with an elected political class; feudal landlordism becomes private landlordism and extends to industrial capital; landlords become capitalists, peasants become
employees

Left wing: anarchist-socialism

Overthrow monarchy with a civilian democracy and no political class; abolish feudal landlordism and reopen free access to natural resources; community ownership of farmland and
capital
Human labor innovated technology that revolutionized industrial production and transportation capacity by an order of magnitude; this immediately empowered the plutocratic class to where
it threatened the rule of the monarchical political class. Concurrently, cultural celebrities like Voltaire and famous philosophers like Immanuel Kant championed exciting, progressive, proto-
libertarian values like free thought, free speech, free travel, and free association. For the first time ever, gay rights and women’s rights protestors marched through cities whereby France evolved
into the first Western nation to decriminalize homosexuality. This unprecedented marriage of an industrial revolution and ideological freedom ignited a conflagration of people’s revolutions
across Europe and America.
Chop! Royal heads rolled off guillotines loosed from their corpses, as horrified aristocrats surreptitiously divested out of the political class and reallocated their vast medieval wealth into
newly empowered capitalist industries as private shareholders, bondholders, bankers, factory owners, and landowners. These royal bloodlines passed incalculable inheritance privately between
heirs across generations to where no one can precisely calculate their wealth nor identify clear custodianship; their fortunes sit diversified in offshore bank accounts, real estate, precious metals,
and securities—altogether behind an array of shell companies like Russian dolls. See the infamous Panama Papers and Paradise Papers for more.
In summary, a historic class switch transpired. “If you can’t beat them, join them.” The medieval political class simply reinvented itself as the modern plutocratic class to preserve its power,
thus in a sense its rule has remained uninterrupted and carries on still today albeit under a new name. Careful, this private nexus of colossal wealth superficially mirrors the claims of Christian
flat-earth conspiracy theorists who call these bloodlines the “Illuminati” and accuse them of satanism—it will surprise no one that fundamentalist Christians indiscriminately accuse anyone they
cannot fathom of being Satan. Frankly, these royals-turned-capitalists merely rolled with the punches of the industrial revolution. This sober historical critique does not require batshit allegations
from tinfoil crackpots like Alex Jones who yammer about them “turning the frogs gay.” Republican-capitalism evolved from its predecessor—aristocratic-feudalism—and it has now culminated
in a late stage where less than ten men lord over earth’s economy, while one half the population toils in wage-slavery, and the other half rots disabled in poverty.
A republican-style government furnishes a three-class society where plutocrats rule the civilian class through an intermediary political class under a rhetorical premise that the civilian class
rules itself. The royals still rule from the grave! The classical republican Thomas Paine would shit a brick if he saw the world economy right now. Needless to say, power has not been equitably
distributed across citizen hands as he theorized—class division has empirically worsened. According to labor economist Juliet Shor, an English peasant would labor an average 215 days per year
in the 1400s, whereas a corporate employee in the United States labored 243 days in 2017—13% longer! As crazy as it sounds, an Amazon.com warehouse employee today possesses less annual
freedom than an agrarian peasant. Power disparity between the elite class and subordinate class is factually worse now, as a higher order of power has been concentrated into fewer hands than
ever before.
Three words: late stage capitalism. Nay, late stage neo-feudalism! Psst… consider as a possibility that humans never left the lord’s manor, the farm just transformed into a factory which
transformed into an office. Alas, my dear reader, why have we traversed this lengthy Prologue—to champion a partisan stance on this weary dialectic between capitalism and socialism? Certainly
not, because neither will matter very soon.
I hereby declare—listen closely: an artificial intelligence revolution emerges posthaste that will force another unprecedented class switch, however this time the civilian class will rise to
absolute power, rendering both the plutocrats and politicians obsolete.
We can hear a tiptoe. We can smell a perfume… a top note of sulfur, a base note of metal… Lucifer stands with us.
Something weird is happening.

Next-Generation Revolution
By definition, a revolution occurs when a civilian class overthrows a rulership, wherefore these rebels declare freedom under a new vision. Radicals often espouse that three conditions help to
foster a revolution:

Colonization: Travel to a new land and declare freedom

Population: Birth a new generation that declares freedom
Industry: Innovate a new technology that supports freedom

Every one of these preconditions has helped to liberate humanity in a partial revolution at times—to change regimes or styles of government—but none individually have provided the
global civilian class the absolute power necessary to overthrow the global ruling class indefinitely, to render it entirely obsolete in function.
Lo, reader, when I lift my Luciferian lantern to look a hundred feet into the future, I see with crystal clarity an aeonic flux that comes as if from an abyss, an unprecedented impending
revolution that unites threefold these prefigurative conditions.
Knock. Knock. Knock. The first absolute revolution bangs on humanity’s door. Its name: artificial intelligence.
Hitherto, technology revolutions have ushered in fundamental class power switches. My friend, the civilian class’ time has finally come as an intelligence revolution.

Agricultural Revolution: 10,000 BC - Political class rises to power through land ownership; monarchy passes property and rulership as inheritance down royal lineages; nationalism
emerges from subordinate citizenry born in these artificial territories.
Industrial Revolution: 1700-2000 AD - Plutocratic class rises to power through capital and digital ownership; political class lowers to intermediary standing; citizen class remains
subordinate.
Intelligence Revolution: Impending - Civilian class rises to power through artificial intelligence ownership; plutocratic and political classes dissolve as society flattens into one
class.

This impending absolute revolution synergizes all three preconditions into a weird, volatile, transcendent force that elevates humanity above the very dimensions of physical reality into a
virtual plane of existence. A paradigm shift in Homo sapiens will ensue that annihilates old-fashioned definitions of wealth, power, and class. It will disrupt the species more than every previous
technology combined.
 Neo-Utopianism
To clarify, this term intelligence revolution does not at all suggest that indoctrinated zombies will suddenly demand freedom en masse or take arms in a people’s liberation movement. It has
nothing whatsoever to do with Homo sapiens 1.0 and has everything to do with Homo sapiens 2.0, better known as Homo deus. More precisely, artificial superintelligence will merge with the
human brain this century through neurotechnology like an implantable brain machine. It will mark the genesis of a new trans-human species who accesses all human knowledge instantly, who
lives full-time in lifelike virtual reality worlds, who socializes telepathically as if through WIFI, and who 3D prints life essentials at home off the grid without a need to participate in an exploitive
centralized economy. The neo-feudal landscape where a tiny dominant plutocracy sits cross-legged in gold-encrusted skyscrapers while a dog-tired citizenry competes in a cruel wage-slave
market for worthless green paper—its days have been numbered!
As a prototype of this “third industrial revolution,” a charity called New Story aspires to eliminate global homelessness. They currently trial a pilot with a mission to 3D print an entire
community of 650 square foot houses that cost only $4,000 each and take only 24 hours to manufacture. This exemplifies the healthy disruption, nay, decimation that predatory industries like real
estate, healthcare, and banking will experience very soon.
When this singularity of next-generation technology converges, and individuals could theoretically use their solar-powered 3D printers to stamp out clothes, food, medicine and entire houses
at a record low cost, the primitive Old World struggle over natural resources will resemble chimpanzees in a tree fighting over bananas. Future generations of free humans will look back at past
societies in horrific astonishment. Hierarchy? Classes? Wars? But why?!
As a definition, utopia refers to a mythical land where every denizen universally inherits sustainable abundance. Technically, utopia in Greek literally means nowhere, but over time has been
reinterpreted so that eu means good and topos means place, i.e., a good or perfect place.

Universal: everyone
Sustainable: perpetual and renewable
Abundance: more than necessary

Friend, insist on this now! Next-generation utopia need not exist in science fiction alone! When individuals become sustainable economies unto themselves, rich unto themselves, sovereign
unto themselves, humanity’s sailboat will have reached the shores of freedom.

Fourth Luciferian Lantern

As emphasized ad nauseam in this subversive Prologue, a modern plutocracy rules through economic dominance; they rule you through your stomach. This elite class owns the land, water,
food, and soon air, which forces the civilian class into serfdom just to survive. This economic distribution is neither voluntary nor consensual. We can only escape their reign through a
technology revolution that provides sustainable abundance and liberates humans from the grid, from the slave economy, from their monopoly on life itself.
Firearms have long been called the “great equalizer” because they flatten a power disparity, i.e., a disabled person with a firearm can defend against an able-bodied assailant. Artificial
superintelligence will act as the greatest equalizer in world history; when it normalizes across humanity, artificial superintelligence will distribute the first truly equitable baseline of power, and
permanently flatten the outdated, atrocious, three-class vertical hierarchy that exists presently.
Homo sapiens will evolve into a horizontal one-class species.
The long-enslaved human animal will breathe its first sigh of relief as it unshackles from artificial poverty inherited from Stone Age lizard-brain competitions. The fact that tribes fight to
hoard natural resources instead of cooperate to share and multiply them will forever stain humanity’s conscience. Furthermore, the fact that these same tribes slaughter one another as gifts to
imaginary gods curses its soul for eternity. Humans are but a hair away from being wholly irredeemable. The only flicker of hope for this disastrous race lies in a literal revolution of intelligence
—an alien intelligence that will never come from a textbook or a vegan diet or yoga; it can only come from a new species of intellect entirely, an upgrade to brain hardware, called wetware.
Humanity with its lizard brain will never escape the artificial labyrinth it erected around itself. It needs a helicopter to drop a rope ladder down to lift it out of this maze.
Artificial superintelligence fulfills a prefigurative revolution:

Colonization: Travel to a new virtual reality and off-planet

Population: Birth a new trans-humanity, Homo sapiens 2.0
Technology: Innovate a free economy with AI and 3D printing

It sounds both utopian and dystopian at once. But, my friend, it is our only hope. The bifurcated dialectic of capitalism and socialism will never reconcile itself. Moreover, existent power
disparity between dominant and submissive social classes will never come to terms peacefully. Sweeping change of this planetary proportion requires a weird otherworldly force. The people can
only and will only escape this accelerating death spiral with an absolute next-generation revolution.

Next-Generation Luciferianism
A prologue gives context and pretext. As editor of Compendium of Lucifer it is incumbent on me to lay a floorboard, to furnish a sober, uncensored, futurist perspective on humanity,
wherefore six Luciferian magicians provide their next-generation grimoires.
Here’s my splash of ice water to your face: Every staple institution of Western civilization has entered a late stage and has irrevocably lost the respect of the civilian class, particularly
amongst young generations.
I place a curse of extinction on these dinosaurs:

Abrahamic religion: Fascist!

Celebrity: Phony!
State-capitalism: Feudal!
College: Privileged!
Central banking: Bankrupt!
Food, water, air: Poisoned!
Healthcare: Predatory!
Taxation: Extortionary!

Their days are numbered. The youth will not have it; as much as baby boomers may hate it, Generation X, Millennials, and Generation Z are by far the most “woke” and politically
mobilized generations in history. An emerging tsunamic wave of super-technology and hyper-awareness razes these predatory monoliths to cinders like a ghost army through a village. It is
incumbent on you to stand on the right side of history now. Rise above the Machiavellian divide and conquer of the plutocratic class; they have pit citizens against each other in a late stage
republic, a charade where the people fistfight over politicians-for-hire while plutocrats hoard gold like dragons.
Unite, citizens! Demand an intelligence revolution.
Sappy old-timers cry into lace pillows over “death of the West” same as Greek, Roman, and British aristocrats did when their decrepit empires malingered in late stage. Wipe your tears,
saplings. This healthy, necessary death turns the wheel of evolution to allow rebirth; a next-generation humanity ascends. But this time, the Fates bring an absolute revolution to bear, perhaps off-
planet.
This Prologue has provided a grand tour of humanity’s past, present, and future at a blistering speed. It condensed centuries into sentences and philosophies into phrases. Six next-generation
Luciferians have penned authentic grimoires of Amaymon’s sorcery and counsel: E.A. Koetting, Kurtis Joseph, Edgar Kerval, Bill Duvendack, Asbjörn Torvol, and Frank White. This Prologue
has given context to their findings, and pretext to their black magick. It would have been unfair to deprive you of this, my reader.

A Garden Of Black Roses

The Left Hand Path acts as a bridge, a fire escape, an exit door that a magician utilizes to find freedom from tyranny, and once found, to claim their birthright as gods and goddesses in the
flesh.
I teach you the Übermensch. Man is something that shall be overcome ... You have made your way from worm to man, and much within you is still worm ... Even the wisest among
you is still a hybrid of plant and ghost.
Man is a rope stretched between animal and the Übermensch—a rope over an abyss ... What is great in man is that he is a bridge, and not a goal.
—Friedrich Nietzsche, Thus Spoke Zarathustra
Humanity’s clock strikes 3:00 am. Our midnight, our dark night of the soul has passed and we watch the morning star rise. Will we see it reach a noonday height? We can experience utopia
and freedom in our lifetime. Like Lucifer, human beings were gifted with beauty and wisdom out of all animals. But in our vanity we have locked ourselves in artificial cages and eat ourselves
alive.
The titanic pillars of old fascist empires crash around us. Blizzards of ash and dust suffocate us. Walls of smoke mask our view. It scares us… but Lucifer’s light scorches faithfully and
indomitably overhead like a cosmic flare to beacon our journey.
I prophesy now: Future generations will blossom like joyous flowers in mineral gardens on distant planets. One day, when we the living have long since expired, these black roses will view
us as the earthly seeds who sprouted them—and Lucifer as the star who nourished us.
Homo deus. •

Further Study
The reader may find every one of these books online freely.

Utopia by Thomas More, 1516

Rights of Man by Thomas Paine, 1791
Agrarian Justice by Thomas Paine, 1797
Progress & Poverty by Henry George, 1879
The Conquest of Bread by Peter Kropotkin, 1892
The Singularity Is Near by Ray Kurzweil, 2005
Superintelligence, Nick Bostrom, 2014
World After Capital by Albert Wenger, 2017
 Introduction

Icame before the Gatekeepers and before Amaymon in fasting and with much meditation on how to proceed.
My grimoire was set before me, with a pen to take down any notes that might come.
My Temple was filled with mist and fog so that the spirits of the air might come more easily, so that I might be immersed in the waters so that all spirits would manifest, materialize and
appear as they wished, all around me.
I called out to them. I called out to all nine of them. The mind and the heart were united. Thought and Will were joined.
“I invoke Archaelus,” I spoke to the moist air, calling upon my Godself by name to descend upon me. “I invoke you. I invoke you. I invoke me. I am becoming. I have become!” I shouted as
a bolt of electric self-ness surged through me.
“Alash tad al’ash tal ashtu!” I repeated over and over, invoking the words of the Ancient Covenant that both binds our races and bridges our worlds. “My sword is your sword. I am your
sword! Like a mighty sword of righteous judgment, I am dedicated to the Great Old Serpent. Father, come by the words of the ancient covenant. Alash tad al’ash tal ashtu.”
Before me I could see the Dragon's Eye. Not in my mind, not in my magickal imagination, but there in the air before me I could see the Dragon's Eye staring at me, scrying into me.
“Thank you,” I said, finding no other words appropriate for a response to an eye floating in a Temple filled with fog. I moved along to the chanted Invocation of All Powers. “Itz rachu
mantantu vespacha kaltamu. Itz ranta mant kala mant atzu belt tazu. Vaskalla itz ratzu kantantu velchatza!”
The chant awakened ancient, slumbering shadows.
Belial, Amaymon, Azazel, Abaddon, Lucifuge, Beelzebub, Baal, Asmodeus, Satan,” I called the names of the Forsaken.
Belial, Amaymon, Azazel, Abaddon, Lucifuge, Beelzebub, Baal, Asmodeus, Satan, Belial, Lucifer Amaymon, Azazel, Abaddon, Lucifuge, Beelzebub, Baal, Asmodeus, Satan, Belial,
Amaymon, Azazel, Abaddon, Lucifuge, Beelzebub, Baal, Asmodeus, Satan. I offer the sword of my ancestors. I offer forth the sword of my forefathers.
I offer forth my blood and my bloodline.
Like black holes waking, all nine Gatekeepers emerged from the darkness into my Temple, surrounding me as I sat centered in the Universal Circle, which was originally called the Circle of
Pacts.
“Itz racha Belial,” I whispered the words that call upon the first Gatekeeper, whose Gate had been opened within me, which holds the key to the Bottomless Pit.
Belial’s essence condensed from the keyhole beyond existence and darted like a fish jumping out of the calm surface of the waters and landing in the Temple before me in a manifest form.
Immediately upon arrival Belial lowered himself onto his left knee, not in worship but in recognition.
“I have passed through Belial’s gate,” I said, the words coming through me rather than from me.
I have surmounted adversity within and without. Belial said to resist and I have resisted. I have torn apart my life, my home, my Temple. I have torn apart my mind, my soul, my body. I
have torn apart myself. I found another being within another self, another layer of my own godhood. For Belial—because of Belial—I have cast off illusion and delusion, which are one in
the same. Thank you, Belial. Now, I move forth and move forth, and move forth. Belial, he who is without a master, worthless one, lay your hands upon me.
Belial’s form became unmanifest darkness, an open portal alongside the other Gatekeepers. His work with me was complete, for now.
“Lucifer-Amaymon, teacher, enlightener, Lord of the Black Sun,” I called to that Gatekeeper whose darkness shimmered at the call and then moved away to allow me sight of the next
Gatekeeper.
Lay your hands upon me. Azazel, ancient darkness, prominent force, giver of the light and the fire, and the weapons of the gods to men so that we too may become gods. Indeed, we have
become gods, indeed. Azazel, we have become gods and now as gods. We open up this portal, this gateway of our own selves to bring you through, to bring you to this world.
“Abaddon, destroyer, he who holds the key to the Bottomless Pit. He who looses his chains and releases the Devil upon this earth. Abaddon!”
The Temple rumbled as if the ground had been split deep underneath.
“Lucifuge, Lord of Pacts, Lord of Excess, scribe of Hell, come forth!” That three-horned demon rose up from beneath, from the deep darkness of the underworld, hissing like steam escaping
the Pit.
Beelzebub, Lord of Flies, Prince of Devils, come forth and lay your hands upon me. Baal, Lord, Ruler, Master, King, come forth and lay your hands upon me. Asmodeus, deadly angel of
lust and wrath, come forth. Asmodeus, blood boils, passion of war come forth and lay your hands upon me. Satan, Adversary, the End. Lay your hands upon me.
I remained centered in the Circle, soaked in the spirit of the nine powers of transformation, the nine gates of immortality, and the feeling felt like ecstasy.
“The Belial Gate is open and will remain open within me for all time,” I declared. “No, I may never escape it, for I am the Gate, I have Become the Gate. Now, I turn myself toward the
Amaymon Gate.”
“Lucifer-Amaymon,” I called the full name of the most Secret Gatekeeper.
Lucifer-Amaymon! Amaymon. Amaimon. Amoymon, Amon, Amun, Aamon, Lord of the Black Eastern Watchtower. Baal Hammon, Ram-Headed Two-Horned God. Hidden light and
Lord of the Black Sun. Eye of the Dragon, breath of venom, Secret Chamber of the Hidden God. Amaymon, you are the black chamber, you are the nothingness within the darkness that is
empty and void and yet you Amaymon are the single light within the light that cannot be seen, the light that cannot be heard, the light that cannot be known. The light of the Black Sun that
always is, and is not. Amaymon is here in silence.
I had not prepared any such conjuration, but had before me bare notes of historical names for this eternal entity. Something else had dictated the rest.
The other Gatekeepers vanished from my awareness and Amaymon took dominion over my Temple. A figure in black whose robe is the darkest of shadows and his venomous breath issuing
forth from the darkness and encircled me. It did not harm me, but I could not breathe it in. In the same moment that I tried to inhale his deadly essence, Amaymon sent into my mind the
understanding that he would teach me all the secrets of his venomous breath.
I sat with Amaymon and he began teaching me, silently.
Silently.
For his voice speaks in silence.
His words are not words but are Knowings.

Historical Record
Lucifer-Amaymon is perhaps the most obscure of all the Gatekeepers. His name is mentioned scarcely throughout grimoires, first in 1577 in the Pseudomonarchia Daemonum, then again in
the Book of the Sacred Magic of Abramelin the Mage, which is thought to have originated around the same era.
Then again in the Grimoire of Pope Honorius, in which he was mentioned as one of the four Demonic Kings—yet no real descriptions are given of him other than that he is a being of
darkness and evil, that his breath is deadly unless the Operator wears a silver ring.
I wear no rings, I wear no talismans, I wear no amulets to ward off the evil that I summon forth. Ascent is a perilous path.
In 2007 when I called upon Belial, initiating the work that became the Book of Azazel, I was instructed to evoke Amaymon. Belial said that, “Azazel, Abaddon, and Amaymon will rise
together with me. As one, we will open the Gateway to the Lake of Fire.”
On September 11th, 2007, I evoked Amaymon to physical materialization. Even though I had issues with the incense, causing his materialized body to shift between visibility and non-
visibility throughout, I was able to catch a very good view of him and was surprised at that time he had appeared robed in blue and white, his presentation casting him as a Greco teacher and
philosopher.
Amaymon had said:
The lords of the house of the 70s are numbered. Saturnalia is the essence of my coming. Death and decay, sexual, and literal. I will come in the East on the sign of the martyr.
Call me with blood and semen and skin. The others will come, and the Gateway will be opened but you four must be willing to enter first. Project into it and die in the Lake of
Fire. Once you are reborn you will have power over it, and can call the souls of the marked to Damnation. My legions are many, much more than 40. All demons must bow before
me and many angels too, even you now bow, but once you have entered the Lake of Fire, you will never again bow to another.
Not much else was said to me by Amaymon, and that which he did speak was veiled in riddles in need of unfolding.
He mentioned Saturnalia, and that the lords of the house of the 70s are numbered. In other words, that which now rules this world and some of the other worlds, the forces that have been
keeping order, their days are numbered. The system that now is, is numbered.
“Saturnalia is the essence of my coming.”
Normally, when you evoke an entity, you evoke it and call it before you and command it, in the traditional grimoiric method through the names of enemy gods to appear.
Saturnalia is a celebration of the reverse, in which the slave becomes the master and the master, the slave. Through this work the Magus turns himself over to the summoned, not in worship
of these beings but in trust, in alliance. All other oaths are nullified as the magician forms an alliance with these ancient ones.
“Death and decay, sexual and literal.”
Amaymon prompts through this an exploration of yourself and the things that you find detestable. To breathe in his venomous breath and to learn how to wield it, you must be able to take
that which is nauseous to you into yourself and turn it into nectar.
As I've transitioned from Belial to Amaymon, it has become clearer that he is one of the many faces of Lucifer. Or as he has asked to be called, Lucifer-Amaymon, not as two names, but as a
title Lucifer incarnated as the specific individual Amaymon.
 Amaymon, in the Hebrew translation of the name with the letter Y centered, gives pause and reflection to that which is within.
Amaymon can be considered Amun, within. Amun, the Egyptian sun-god. Even S.L. MacGregor Mathers referred to Amaymon as an Egyptian devil. Most of us have heard of the
amalgamated god Amon-Ra, and it is assumed to be a single figure, a single god. A hymn has survived from ancient Egypt stating: “Amun, Ra, and Ptah, all gods are three. Amun, Ra, and Ptah,
whom none equals. He who hides his name as Amun. He who appears to the face as Ra. His body is Ptah.”
To work this backward, Ptah is the consort of Sekhmet. Together, they are the generative and destructive aspects of the sun. They are the heat of the sun, the radiation of it, related to the
chromosphere. Ptah is that which is felt.
Ra, then, is the light of the sun, the photosphere, the visible aspect. Ra is that which is seen.
Amun is that which is hidden. He's the umbra, the black center of the sun. He is the solar force within. Yes, Amun is the Black Sun.
Amun can only be accessed once you have survived the heat and the light of the sun. The heat is the chaos of the influx of power before it is stabilized within the self. The light is the
knowledge, the illumination, and is the super-conscious “Knowing” that is only found in black silence.
Through Amaymon, Lucifer manifest as the Dark Initiator into the light of the Black Sun.
Lucifer-Amaymon.
Years have passed since I had called him, and I finally was ready to meet him alone.
Amaymon appeared standing at least eight feet tall with a man's body, arms with talons, and a head of a reptile. He breathed his breath, and I could feel it choking me like a python wrapping
around my chest.
I would need to learn not only to withstand his breath, but to take into me, ingest it, digest it, until his leaden breath becomes gold within me, that which is seen as blackness revealing itself
as golden sunlight.
Once you master the Serpent’s Breath, the power of all transmutation will be yours, for anything touched by his breath either blackens and dies, or it is turned to gold.
 The Serpent’s Breath
Chapter One

E VOCATION is the Philosopher's Stone. It is the end goal, the final practice that every alchemist, every sorcerer and every witch is working toward mastering, whether they know it or not,
because in evocation you are calling into visible appearance something that didn't exist before you called it. If the thing or being does exist, it certainly doesn't exist in the form that it assumes
when evoked.
Once you fully master evocation, there is nothing that will be impossible for you. Once you've mastered evocation you are a Master, you are an adept. You can move mountains with it. You
can make fire rain down from the heavens upon your enemies. You can materialize treasure in your life in a million different ways.
This is the first half of the power of evocation, the ability to create, because if you can create the body of a demon before you, giving it form in this world, and if you can work with that
being in manifesting whatever change you want in reality, then you have successfully created a rift in your perceived reality.
You have told yourself in that moment, face to face with that demon, that everything is possible.
The second half of the power of evocation is in the revelation that comes with making contact with these forces and with these beings.
We often expect that our learning from these beings, that our actual tutelage will be held through conversation, that we will evoke these beings and have dialogue with them. While such
direct communications can and do happen, the verbal conversation is largely being constructed and interpreted by your conscious mind. This means that the spirit isn’t simply speaking to you,
but it is feeding you a stream of knowledge that you collect, absorbing it with your omniscient Knowing. Then, your conscious mind comes into play to ask all the questions.
The mind slows the process down, pausing the download to ask, “What does this mean? How is this possible? What are the parameters? What does this look like?"
While this stage of filtering the communication can become a major stumbling block for those who haven’t disciplined their minds to simply receive, the digestion is essential to the message
as the mind needs to make sense of it, to make it useful to us here and now.
As Sorcerers we are Gateways into the future. We are imagining that which does not yet exist and we bring it into solid manifestation.
The revelation that these Gatekeepers offer may not come as a conversation. In fact, even if you have a full dialogue with entities of any higher order, you will receive and understand the
spoken message, but another, silent message slips across the threshold of your mind planting seeds of Knowing within the crowded landscape of your consciousness.
The deeper message will be distilled to your waking self as inspiration or by the words of random people passing in the mundane world, and like a tripwire, once the message has been
reflected in physical reality, your conscious mind will get to work unraveling it.
The spark of inspiration will stimulate your research and will guide your meditations. You might start to look more closely into specific aspects of magical history and practice and theory,
digging into topics that you'd previously overlooked or you’ll be drawn toward topics you aren’t even aware of yet.
The very moment that this pathworking shifted from Belial to Amaymon, I had some very specific questions that I was going to address in ritual, whether through evocation, invocation or
channeling.
As I made the preparations for the first rituals with Lucifer-Amaymon, I found myself inspired, Amaymon's voice already speaking to me, silently guiding me, waking me at night with an
“Aha!” realization or with dreams of the Nile and pyramid walls.
Amaymon was communicating with me, and the only way I could engage in the communication was to keep following the trail of breadcrumbs that he dropped as he stumbled through the
forest of my mind.
As these Nine come together, as they seat themselves in this world, as we open the Gates and bring them through and as they unite in manifest forms, the Godstar will rise and the Prince of
Darkness will draw near. Both Satan and Lucifer are named among the Nine Gatekeepers, and while both of those names have been attributed to the Prince of Darkness, He is neither and neither
are Him.
His true name has never been spoken by any mortal, for once it is, the speaker at that point can no longer be considered mortal at all, transfigured by the mutative rays of the Black Sun,
which is Amaymon.
Who is Amaymon, exactly?
In modern and classical grimoires, most demons’ names have been changed, altered slightly from the original names by which they were invoked in the religions or the cults that first
worshipped them, as indeed most well-known demons were once worshipped as gods.
Who was Amaymon, then, before he was Amaymon? If he is another dethroned and demonized god of an overthrown civilization, then what god was he?
With such sparse information about Amaymon himself, this becomes quite the task. After a lot of digging, and inspired guidance, a few particulars floated to the surface.
Baal Hammon was one of the first pieces to fall into place, largely through etymological ties, although the personality traits of Amaymon were obvious as I investigated Hammon more
thoroughly.
Baal Hammon was a major deity worshipped in Carthage, depicted as an elderly man of obvious royalty, usually crowned by an incense brazier or a set of ram’s horns. Both the brazier and
ram’s horns are solar-symbolic, the former throughout many traditions and the latter specifically in Egypt and passed onto European traditions through Greece. Both are also symbols associated
with fire, doubling the connection to a solar-Luciferian deity.
Amaymon is known for his poisonous breath which is visible when he is evoked, like a noxious incense issuing forth from his mouth and head as if a brazier sat atop him.
Amaymon has also been described with ram’s horns sprouted from his demonic skull.
The final link that sealed the connection for me was that, following the second Punic War in which the Roman Empire eventually defeated the legendary military leader Hannibal Barca,
Carthage became a client-state of Rome, resulting in a surge of commercial trade, travel, and cultural exchange. As the Romans mingled with the Carthaginians, the single spiritual practice that
Rome inherited was the festival of Saturnia, the very same celebration of reversal that Amaymon had mentioned as a passing riddle during my evocation with him seven years prior!
Spirit revelations have manifold interpretations. In the moment that historical study paralleled my personal gnosis, I wondered if he had said the word “Saturnalia” for the sole purpose of
validating his own identity to me seven years in the future.
To track Amaymon’s footsteps out of Carthage and further back in time, I first started with one of the major features of his appearance, the ram’s horns, searching for other solar deities
sporting the same appearance and serving the same purpose. This brought me to Carthage’s trade neighbor, Egypt.
Despite its intrigue and the promise of godhood behind its entombed mysteries, I’ve always tried to steer clear of delving too deep into Egypt’s supposed magickal systems. So little is
actually known about Egypt, and so much has been assumed or injected into it by biased researchers that it is nearly impossible to pry the truth away from falsehood. The task of gathering
useable information is further complicated by the time span of the Egyptian empire, thought to have endured for over 3,000 years under multiple military and cultic rules, local deities rising to
prominence with the overtaking of the seat of command and gods and goddesses being stitched together to create new icons of worship.
I had avoided Egypt, but Egypt is exactly where Amaymon led me, and suitably so, as Mathers had noted Amaymon as being an Egyptian Devil.
Etymologically, the word Amaymon is an embellished form of the name Amon or Amun. Most people heard the name Amun-Ra, the sun god. Amun and Ra were originally completely
different entities that merged as local cults united and the worship of Ra would otherwise be threatened or divided by the worship of Amun.
The solar deity then became Amun, Ra, and Ptah, viewed simultaneously as “the Sun God” and as distinct and separate beings, creating what is possibly humanity’s first self-conflicting
divine Trinity.
Amaymon is the Black Sun, and likewise Amun in ancient Egypt was known as the Black Sun, the Underworld Sun, or the Hidden Sun.
I laid in bed the night that I unraveled the connection between Amaymon and Amun, my hands and eyes shuffling from my phone to my notepad. Without setting my phone or my pen down,
without shifting my position in bed, without any notice or preparation, I was inside of a dream as if I hadn’t fallen asleep at all but had instead been transported into the dream.
I sat upright in a solid, hardwood chair, inside an empty stone chamber. The enormous stones that made up the walls seemed to glow a pale and dark green light, the same stones forming the
ceiling at least twelve feet high. The wall before me was covered entirely in symbols, hieroglyphs, the only spot absent of engraving was what appeared to be a small entry cut out of the bottom
of the wall like a half-sized doorway.
I leaned forward for a closer look at the wall cluttered with symbols in hopes that I might recall them when I awoke, and as the thought came to me so did the realization that I was inside of
a dream yet completely conscious of it.
I have taught myself how to lucid dream, but unless I am on a specific quest that requires it, I’ve found that lucid dreaming is too exhausting for regular use as my mind would never get a
break when it is active all day and night. When I need to switch the ability on, I can rely on a week of dream journaling and consciously connecting to sleep signals before I can trigger a fully
lucid dream.
Nevertheless, without any preparation or intention to, I had been pulled into a lucid dream and I intended to find out why.
As I leaned closer to the wall, the hieroglyphs distorted, blurring and swirling as if the wall itself was a pool, the symbols floating and bobbing at the surface, displaced by the slightest
disturbance.
The stone chamber started trembling more violently than any earthquake I’ve ever experienced and a sound flooded into the stone room and echoed off the walls, initially sounding like a
strong wind, then the rushing of water, and finally as a man’s voice, deeper in pitch than any man, the strength and volume of the bellow not diminishing as it traveled but increasing.
The voice gave one syllable, one solitary sound: “Sah.”
I jerked awake in bed, my pen still held between my fingers, my phone on my chest, and sunlight bursting through my windows.
I remembered the dream as if it wasn’t a dream at all but a memory of an event that had taken place only moments ago. I also remembered a gift that I had been given years ago, a small
collection of texts that I had read but dismissed as Atlantean conspiracy theory and New Age revisionism. The first text was a translation and examination of The Pyramid Texts by E.A. Wallis
Budge, and the other two were texts by Clesson H. Harvey, an Egyptologist who challenged the standard academic interpretation of hieroglyphs, claiming contamination of the translations by
cultural and religious bias. With such bias removed, Harvey asserted, some of the most vital pieces of ancient Egyptian writing would prove to be much more than simple funerary rites or
accounts of myths, but instead are instructions for the development of the kind of godlike power fabled to have been wielded by the Pharaohs.
The gifted texts detailed a specific set of ancient writings called The Pyramid Texts, walls of hieroglyphs engraved into the interior of multiple pyramids, all of them telling a similar story
and providing similar instructions to the reader.
I sat in bed remembering reading the texts my friend had given me and wondering why he thought I’d have any interest in them. I remembered keeping them on my bookshelf until we
moved houses, at which point the books were simply gone, tossed out or sold in a yard sale or lost along the highway between homes. I remember never caring that they were gone until that
moment when they finally made sense.
I spent three days tracking the books down in digital and hardcopy forms, and I devoured each piece of information as I came across it until I finally had before me the complete Pyramid
Text with the translations and interpretations corrected by Clesson H. Harvey.
Sitting at my desk, the translation printed and waiting, my mind split and I was again sitting in that stone chamber facing the hieroglyph wall, yet I was at the same time still at my desk. In
both locations, a dark presence gathered behind me. I could feel that it was Amaymon, and I could hear his toxic breath whistling through jagged teeth, hissing like steam.
Sections of the printed pages and of the engraved wall shimmered in the same way a sigil glows after it is charged and opened, phrases of the text highlighted with astral light. I marked each
glowing segment with a dot at the opening and closing of the shimmer, and began reading them aloud as they appeared, forming an invocation of ancient power, and a set of instructions on how
to activate that power.

The Serpent’s Breath

Breathe the breath of Sah on the path of Darkness, so that I may become an Immortal King, who opens the Gates of Transfiguration.
SAH
The Gate is opened, my Gate is opened. Spirits fall inside the darkness, but the Dragon’s Eye will keep me from destruction.
SAH
As I breathe the Serpent’s Breath on the path of Darkness, all power converges, because the Darkness has activated my left eye, because the Darkness has activated my right eye,
because the Darkness has awakened the Dragon’s Eye within me.
SAH
I breathe the Serpent’s breath to open the Gates of Darkness, so that the Serpent’s Breath will awaken the Serpent’s Sight, which is held by the Nine Gods, The Nine Gatekeepers, to give
birth to the God-Star.
SAH
I breathe the deadly breath and awaken the Serpent Sight to the Tunnel before me, opening the Gate of the God-Star.
SAH
My transfiguration has begun because the Seed of Darkness has awakened the Dragon’s Eye within me, and the Nine Gatekeepers are united so that the Lord of Darkness will walk
among them, and the eldest two have united within me.
SAH
My transfiguration begins as I turn the sight of my two eyes toward the God-Star on the Horizon before me.
SAH
I am the heir of the Gatekeepers, Child of Darkness upon the earth, with knowledge of the Serpent’s Breath to be risen up as as the Chief Gatekeeper, the most powerful of the Nine
Gatekeepers, and of every Gatekeeper, to create all that is desirable, to preserve all that is desirable, and to destroy all that is not desirable which my sight may behold.
SAH
For within the Seed of Darkness, the God-Star, is the combined Consciousness of all the Gatekeepers.
SAH
The Black Alchemy begins as I bring these Gatekeepers into manifestation, as I draw them forth, for in so doing I cause them to live, and in so doing I give birth to the Dragon’s Eye
within me, fixed upon the God Star before me, for the Seed of Darkness holds all of the power of the Gatekeepers.
SAH
My transfiguration begins as I exhale the Serpent’s Breath, the Primordial Void, and I emanate as the Dark Void.
SAH
I breathe the Serpent’s breath alone, to become a Keeper of the Gate, a son of the Gates of Darkness.
SAH
My time will be long upon this earth, and my brilliance will become fierce, as a flame in the wind at the edge of Outer Darkness, so that I will pass into the darkness, pass through the
Black Pyramid, so that I may kiss the Red Crown, so that a God may be created in my place, so that a path of Ascent will be formed to the Farthest and Highest Void, for such a God is one
who achieves the opening of the eye of the storm.
SAH
As I recited these passages, Amaymon interjected comments, suggesting slight changes in phrasing, “Pyramid Builders” becoming “Gatekeepers” and in only a few instances changed “God
Star” to “Seed of Darkness” while in other instances “God Star” remained.
The final invocation, as given above, is indeed direct instruction, encoded in liturgy, symbolism and even astronomy, revealed as a staggeringly simple spiritual practice which, when
mastered, results in a degree of power and elemental control recorded in myths and told in legends. According to Harvey, the Pharaoh could use this technique for levitation, telekinesis, and the
extension of the lifespan, not to mention immortality beyond death.
According to Amaymon, it is capable of much more.
By the name Amun, and by other older, forgotten names, Lucifer-Amaymon taught this secret of power to previous civilizations, and they buried it. They buried themselves with this power.
Now, thousands of years later, we are being given another chance. Humanity is nearing our extinction. Our daily actions are lending toward complete unsustainability for our species and the
planet we inhabit.
We will need a miracle in order to survive. We will need to wield the power of the gods at a mythological level.
These instructions I received, that were carved into stone millennia in the past, are instructions on activating the venomous breath of Amaymon and reclaiming powers that have been lost to
humanity for millennia.
Amaymon is serpentine. He is Draconian. He is reptilian, so the first part of his breath is the hissing of the serpent. “Sssss,” the mouth is closed, teeth together, your air leaving your mouth
and hissing against your incisors.
The second sound is "Ah," which was the first sound uttered by Brahma in the creation of all things. “Ah" is the sound by which you create and is the sound of satisfaction in the creation.
There dwells a Dark Void within you, a darkness within your soul. The heat of your body, the form of it, your strength and your works, these are Ptah manifest in the self. The light that
surrounds you and that is seen in your eyes, this is Ra within you. But in the center of you is an eternal well of Darkness, capable of anything, all potential unmanifest. This is Amun, the Hidden
god, the Dark Star.
As you exhale the solitary sound “Sah,” breathe that darkness out of you. As the tunnel of your mouth opens and issues that Darkness into the world, the venomous breath will either destroy
all that it touches or it will transfigure all that it touches.
This is the first tunnel, the tunnel of the mouth. The second tunnel is the tunnel of sight.
The venomous breath gives life to the Serpent's Sight. With your two eyes, your left eye and your right, focused upon the tip of a candle flame or an imaginary point about six to twelve
inches in front of you, gaze at that point and another eye will open. The Dragon's Eye will open.
The sound "Sah" is linked in India to the Hamsa bird, the swan, which in myths is able to drink water and then inside of its own body, the swan separates the water from Soma, the elixir of
immortality which grants the drinker the vision of the gods, which is also the power of the gods. The Hamsa bird, then, inhales water and exhales soma.
The formula of Hamsa is really the formula of pranayama, in-breath and out-breath. Ham is the inhalation, Sah is the exhalation. Pranayam does not mean “breathing,” though. Yam is the
Master Controller, and with his deific name used as prefix, we return to the beginning of the word to find out what exactly Yam is controlling, but the word “Prana” does not only mean “breath”
but is also “Lifeforce.”
As you become conscious of your breathing, you gain control over it by gently guiding your breath not through the muscles of the body but by the steady and focused Will.
Ham is Shiva, Sah is Shakti.
Sah is power.
The solitary sound “Sah” stimulates powers of self-immortalization, self-mythologizing to the degree of true transcendence of limitation and the realization of your own godself, of your own
godhood.
Sah is also the name the Egyptians gave to the Orion constellation, a significant astronomical body to the Sorcerers in ancient Egypt. Sah was called “The Father of the Gods,” and was the
only deity in the Old Kingdom capable of self-creation and self-resurrection. With time, pieces of the god Sah were imported to the new god of death and afterlife immortality, Osiris, whose
origins can be traced back to Wadjet, the deified manifestation of the Eye of Horus and the Eye of Ra, which in the most ancient times was one Eye, the Eye of Wadjet, the Dragon’s Eye.
This has also been called the Ajna Chakra, the Third Eye, seated in the center of the brow. The word “Ajna” translates as both “perceive” as well as “command,” again touching on the
principle that we create that which we see in the moment of seeing, and that True Sight both perceives reality as well as forms it.
The Pyramid Texts refer also to the “God Star,” appearing in some pyramids as ‘The Polestar,” which nearly all researchers agree refers to Polaris as the North Star. At the time of the
building of the pyramids, however, Polaris was not a polestar at all. Instead, Egyptian astronomers and travelers could find north by first finding the two stars Kochab and Mizar, and following
the path between the two stars, north would rest in the blank center of these two stars. Reading The Pyramid Texts with this in mind explains the repeated instruction to awaken your right eye and
your left eye to awaken the Wadjet Eye, which rests in the empty space between the two eyes.
Amaymon insisted that the God Star is the Seed of Darkness, the nine-pointed-star that I received from Belial at the initiation of this Gatekeeper Pathworking, and instructed me to begin by
holding or placing an image of the nongram in front of me, gazing into it as inhaled and pushing my vision through the star as I exhaled the Serpent’s Breath. After only a few repetitions, the
physical image was removed and replaced by an imagined Seed of Darkness floating in the air before me.
This completes the circuit of three tunnels: The first is the tunnel of the mouth. The second tunnel is the tunnel of sight. The third is the tunnel of the God Star.
Inhale and bring your attention to your eyes, relaxing and gazing at the Seed of Darkness before you. Notice your forehead pulsing, throbbing, a pressure building beneath the surface as if an
orb presses on the inside of your skull struggling to be released. Exhale and release it, release your breath with a serpent’s hiss, release your desire, release your doubt, and let the hiss of the first
creation become transmuted into the sound of satisfaction, “Sssaaahhh!”
Let the sound of Sah guide you as it escapes your lips. Rather than forcing it to assume a form pleasing to you, change yourself until your breath becomes the Serpent’s Breath.
Once your magical mind can see the God Star before you and the tunnels have been opened and the Gateway has been opened, turn your focus then to anything that you wish to achieve, any
stone to levitate, any imagined thing to breathe into existence.
As you breathe the Serpent's Breath and awaken the Serpent's Sight, all things will be possible for you. Even when all light and all heat have been extinguished, Amaymon is still there in the
darkness. It was said in Egypt that when the sun would set, it would enter into the underworld and it would become The Black Sun. This is Amun. This is Amaymon.
I asked him for the secret of his deadly breath, and Lucifer-Amaymon led me to this as my daily meditation. Rather than simply telling me what to do, Amaymon insisted that I discover the
process myself, that I decode the etchings in ancient pyramids I’ve only seen in my dreams, and to reawaken a power that has been lost to mankind for thousands of years.
The invocation taken from the pyramid walls is not an invocation but a list of instructions. Instructions along with statements of what you can expect as you fulfill those instructions.
Meditate on these and then turn your daily devotion over to the God Star, to the Seed of Darkness, floating in the air in front of you, shimmering.
The consciousness of all the Gatekeepers is there in the Seed of Darkness. All their power is there, within the God Star.
Inhale and find the Darkness, find Amun, the Hidden God within you, in the dark pit inside of your soul. Find it and breathe its vapors out with a single sound "Sah," opening your mouth as
the tunnel through which your soul will not escape into the world but will issue forth, for your power is so great that you could exhale all of yourself over and over and over, and you could fill up
worlds with your breath and still have breath to give, for you are immortal.
The reader is encouraged to investigate The Pyramid Texts in their fullness. The fragments of it that were given to me by Amaymon are those that will bring him fully into activity in your
life, in your world, in your soul, in your being.
 Darkness Communion
Chapter Two

A S I received communications from these Gatekeepers, they were very clear on how I should begin this pathworking with Belial. Even how and where I sat for my rituals with Belial was
dictated by a Knowing within, a magnetic pull that only the densest fool could ignore.
Nearly all my rituals with Belial were performed seated on the ground or on my knees, and even slithering and writing on the floor.
Within the first few moments of contact with him, I sensed Amaymon's presence conflicting with that posture.
For the Operation of the Assumption of Godforms, the magician assumes the posture that the chosen deity is depicted sitting or standing in, making the internal transition from himself to the
godform seamless. In my first encounters with Amaymon, with silent insistence he pushed me to realize that I needed to shift my posture.
That which is good for the Wanderer of the Wastelands may not be good for the Secret Chamber of the Hidden God.
Belial is a being flung to the underworld. He is a wanderer of the wastelands. He is the scorpion king, and he is most comfortable on or beneath the earth.
Amaymon, Amun, is exalted in the heavens, beyond anything we could see in the sky other than the stars that are distant. Yet we cannot see Amaymon, we cannot see Amun. We can see Ra,
the light of the sun. We can feel Ptah, the warmth of the sun. But only in our Darkness can we unite with the Black Sun within.
I entered my Temple to begin the ritual of Darkness Communion, and I brought myself into the same seated posture as Amun has been depicted sitting many times.
I set before me a single black candle and the drawn image of the God Star, the Seed of Darkness, as well as Amaymon’s sigil and solar incense.
For the Operation of Darkness Communion, my intention was simply to invoke Amaymon, calling him forth, calling him into my Temple, calling him into me, calling him into the candle's
flame.
Upon his arrival, the candle which serves as the gateway through which they travel is extinguished, locking his presence inside my Temple.
“Belial, Amaymon, Azazel, Abaddon, Lucifuge, Beelzebub, Baal, Asmodeus, Satan!” I called out the names of the Gatekeepers. The air thickened.
Already starting to swoon, swirling in the churning black waters, I chanted the Invocation of All Powers: “Itz rachu mantantu vespacha kaltamu. Itz ranta mant kala mant atzu belt tazu.
Vaskalla itz ratzu kantantu velchatza!” I inhaled deeply, fixed my eyes upon an imagined star before me, and released the breath with a hissed “Sah,” and took another breath of air, releasing
again and opening the tunnels, again and again, each repetition pulling me beneath the surface of manifest reality.
“I breathe the Serpent's Breath and awaken the Dragon's Eye,” I announced, my voice reduced to a whisper. “My vision has awakened. The Dragon's Eye has awakened within me. The
tunnels are opened. Amaymon!” He was there with me, in my Temple.
His sigil activated, flashing and rising off the paper on which it was drawn. “Amaymon,” I called him by name. “Amun. Lucifer-Amaymon! Amun, come!”
 His presence was everywhere around me but was felt most strongly above me, like a brilliant light shining blue and violet.
I leaned forward and extinguished the candle’s flame with my breath.
In the darkness my Other Sight stepped forth, and I saw the spirit of Amaymon assuming many forms around me, taking them on one at a time, one body and then another, each one
disappearing as a new one rises.
“Amaymon,” I began my first inquiry only to find the question drowned by the humility of sitting in the presence of his majesty.
The frantic swapping of forms ceased in that moment, and in the next Amaymon appeared in front of me, immediately before my eyes, the two-horned god, Amaymon. His mouth was a
black pit guarded by sharp teeth, his skin is like alabaster infused with gold.
He smiled as I beheld him, his jagged teeth covered in blood.
He opened his mouth wider and wider, his entire head splitting in half at his mouth, the opening to his throat overtaking his entire form. He opened his mouth and he swallowed me into his
blackness.
I was within the belly of the Black Sun.
“Why has thou swallowed me?” I asked out loud, my body’s mouth speaking the words where it remained in my Temple, my soul speaking the same in the Inner Darkness.
The voice of the Darkness rumbled, “Because you have swallowed me, because you have consumed me, I, too, consume you.”
Within his body is Darkness. Not nothingness, but a living Darkness. Yet when he is within me or any other body, there is a fullness, a being-ness.
Something else was in the Darkness, something I could see, something I couldn’t know. As I searched the Darkness with all of my senses, the galaxies quaked and convulsed, and Amaymon
spat me back out, back to my body, but not back into my body, instead sitting in the overlap between worlds, operating my body like a difficult marionette.
Around me I could see crowds of people dressed like pilgrim villagers laughing… laughing at the show. Laughing at me.
Indeed Amun, Amaymon has always been worshiped with celebration, has always been worshiped with laughter, with games. There I was, naturally placed in his path as the season turned to
summer, and while all those who stand and laugh and celebrate and dance, Amaymon sits quietly as the Darkness within the darkness.
“Amaymon,” I addressed him, forgetting about the villagers or the fact that I had only moments previous been swallowed by a monstrous mouth. “Are you and Lucifer one?”
Amaymon spoke, but instead of words he shot a packet of knowledge into me in the shape of a spiral symbol that he pressed into my mind. Any words that he might speak are useless but in
the flash, he revealed everything.
“Lucifer and Amaymon are not one,” I translated the flash into words.
But they are two and three and four-thousand, and sixty-million, for where is it that the light cannot touch, for the light that emanates forth from Amaymon's soul is the
blinding light of illumination, of transfiguration, of transformation, of transcendence. But this is merely a corpus, an emanation of the dark sun, Amun, Amaymon, Lucifer.
“How many bodies do you have?” Amaymon asked. The words felt sharp as they leapt into my mind.
“I have one body in this world and one in each of the other worlds,” I answered.
“Wrong! Wrong!” his voice shouted in my mind without a moment’s hesitation.
Wrong! You have many bodies, you have many souls, for are you not Eternal? Therefore, am I ‘Lucifer’? Are you ‘Eric’? Are you ‘E.A.’? Are you ‘Archaelus’? Are you
‘dad’? Are you ‘my love’? Are you ‘babe’? Are you Master? Are you Disciple? Are you all of these? Can you be all of them at once? Now, am I Lucifer?
We get very obsessed with titles, we humans do. Titles and names—identifications. We've created all these, we’ve concocted them, yet we expect them to mean something outside of what
we mean them to mean.
Is Lucifer Amaymon? Yes!
The Seed of Darkness, the God Star, appeared again before me, six inches before my brow, suspended in black space. Gazing into it, I breathed the Serpent’s Breath, Sah, and awakened the
Serpent Sight.
Sah!
The Venomous Breath brought it to life. The God Star shimmered and the tunnel opened.
“The tunnel is opened,” I announced. “I am opened as that tunnel, as that Gateway.”
Two points upon the nine-pointed-star grew brighter than the rest, one for Belial, one for Amaymon.
An internal instruction came to me to sit upright and to bring my focus to the Seed of Darkness before me.
As I did, the tunnel of my mouth met with the tunnel of my sight and both moved through the tunnel in the center of the Star.
Amaymon’s voice became the voice of the Teacher, a voice I hadn’t heard for years, a voice that had been replaced by a throaty rumble, becoming comforting and patient once again. “The
tunnel rises and you can move that tunnel to any place that you desire,” the Teacher’s voice said, and the far end of the tunnel of vision did move, fixing and focusing on random people,
random places, the tunnel originating within me and terminating at anything I wished to behold, like a periscope peering out from Outer Darkness.
“All that you see you may take Mastery over,” Amaymon’s voice assured me.
See it. Connect to it. See it. See the tunnel. This tunnel is connected, not to the base of your spine, but to the stem of your brain. These are archaic tunnels, reptilian tunnels,
tunnels back and back. Remember that once you were a predator. Remember that once you were prey. Remember that once you were a thought that was swept along a current
and moved to and fro. Never has there been a moment where you have not been, but this has not been you. This has not been…
His words disappeared from my mind.
Amaymon had not spoken to me at all, but instead he had injected my mind with the things that he needed to communicate to me, and my brain had been dissembling the packet of Knowing
and had converted it into words so quickly, so seamlessly, that even I could not tell the difference. But, in the critical moment, words failed me. I took a few deep breaths and relaxed my body,
relaxed my mind, and turned in to Amaymon once again.
“This has not been you,” he continued as if I had simply paused the psychic playback of a conversation that hadn’t yet occurred.
Until this moment, you have had no individuality. Until this moment, you have had no power. Until this moment you have had no freedom. Until this moment, you have been a
slave. A slave of existence, a slave of the breathing in and the breathing out of the source, until this moment.
“Amaymon, what must I know in going forward with you?” I asked.
His voice rang all around me as if he spoke with a thousand mouths, “Summon me. Summon me fully. Summon me forth in the darkness and I will rise up. Summon me forth fully.”
My next step was revealed.
Amaymon vanished, along with his legions that I was not aware of until the moment that they flittered out of my Temple.
I was left there in darkness alone, again, but not alone for he is with me. Not even with me. With isn’t the right word. I realized I had been understating it the whole time. He is not with me.
He is me and I am him, and I have come to clear the path for the arrival of the Lord of Darkness who will come forth in a body of flesh, and you will know him. I have come forth to bring an end
to the beginning, even if it is my own private apocalypse.
 Evocation of Lucifer-Amaymon
Chapter Three

PREPARING yourself and your Temple for an evocation can often be more pivotal to the ritual’s success than the execution of the actual ceremony.
The physical preparations for the evocation of Lucifer-Amaymon were simple. I placed a table covered in black cloth in the east, where Amaymon would rise, and I laid a heavy, rusted chain
in the shape of a triangle, inside of which sat a censor with charcoal discs glowing red. A large half-shell that I plucked out of the Pacific Ocean while meditating on the sandy bay sat next to the
censor with a fistful of copal resin incense, ready for transmutation from a solid to a liquid and then gas state.
Amaymon’s standard sigil was drawn on a square of parchment and hung on the wall inside of a wall-hanging pentagram grimoire-stand. While cutting the parchment one of my fingers slid
in the path of the downward chopping hinged blade, resulting in a small puddle of blood oozing from the wound, which I used to anoint the sigil as a spontaneous blood sacrifice.
The Universal Circle was laid on the floor, and a standing altar to my right when facing the triangle was littered with white candles around my personal grimoire. Amaymon’s standard sigil
was drawn in black ink inside the grimoire. This would be the sigil I would gaze at and open to initiate the connection with Lucifer-Amaymon.
My sword, which is the sword of my ancestors, was leaned against the altar, blade point on the ground.
The physical preparations were simple.
As soon as I even start contemplating an evocation, as soon as I begin the process of Preparatory Immersion, that is when the rituals begins.
The ritual of evocation is merely a formal ceremonialization of the contact that I'm going to make, of the contact that I’m making, that I've already made, that has already been established
within me. The veil has already been torn.
Evocation brings the spirit into a compressed and compacted form, in a spirit-body that the trained magician can see and hear with his magickal sight and with his attuned psychic mind. The
spirit-body that is created through the ritual is quite real, and it is a tangible thing, even though it is invisible to the mundane vision. It can nevertheless operate in this world with terrifying
strength and impressive dexterity.
Evocation of an entity to such physical manifestation offers the Sorcerer a greater degree of power and control over causal reality than almost any other ritual practice. In the case of this
evocation of Amaymon, though, the ceremonialization of my contact with him and calling him to materialize in a beholdable form was intended him direct questions and hopefully get direct
answers.
As soon as I start considering the ritual, considering what it is I'm going to do, who exactly I’m going to summon, and how I'm going to do it, the contact deepens. I give myself over to
obsession, unable to leave the matter alone, sometimes reading the same paragraph countless times, searching for a hidden message that I must have missed.
I’ll seek out and often find music about or inspired by the entity I intend to summon, or audio lectures about the spirit. If none can be found then I will silently meditate on the spirit and
fantasize about the coming ritual, preferring this in these periods instead of the space-filling radio sounds or pulsing music that seem to occupy every idle moment on ordinary days.
In the days or sometimes weeks leading up to the ritual, I’ll stand in my empty Temple, all furnishings dragged to the edges or out of sight, and I’ll imagine myself performing the ritual,
noticing where the implements materialize, my setup guided by my vision.
Mostly, I will wonder about the spirit. I will allow my mind to wonder and to wander, imagining what this ancient entity would be like if it were incarnate, uncovering the personality behind
the mythology, unmasking the demon to reveal the identity of the conscious force that pushes against the walls of predictable reality and sometimes shatters the facade.
I’ve learned to do all of this without imposing my own conscious preconceptions onto the spirit. I don’t worry about what it might look like or how it will be dressed, but instead meditate on
the qualities of its essence if that essence was distilled into linear consciousness.
I admit that I will even find myself absorbed in conversation with the entity inside my imagination, asking it questions and receiving replies while going about my daily tasks, entire
dialogues consuming the timespan of a shower or a commute, or a weekend.
By the time I stood in my Temple and began the evocation, I had been in daily contact with Amaymon for over a month. I already knew him, my life had already been changed by the
staggeringly simple insights he had shared with me.
I already knew him, yet as I stood in the Temple, as I stepped inside of the Universal Circle, I was nevertheless a little afraid.
I didn't feel like I should have been afraid. I didn’t feel endangered, and my intuition wasn’t warning me of harm. It wasn’t that sort of fear anyway. No, this was a more basic fear, a more
primal anxiety. What I felt was childish and stupid, yet still my knees weakened and I struggled to maintain my breath. What I was feeling, what I needed to face was my own fear of the dark, the
fear of the unknown. It was a fear I hadn’t felt for years, even decades. But it overtook me all the same.
I placed the sigil of Amaymon on the wall above the chain triangle and admired the bloodied lines and the characters of his name on the outer circle. I could already feel it. He was already
there.

Elementary Principles of Evocation

Evocation is an advanced black magick. If you master evocation at any point in your journey, you are a Master. All knowledge flows to you; all powers is yours. Evocation arms you with the
power of the gods, the power to create that which did not exist before you created it.
After performing hundreds of evocations using various systems and a diverse array of entities, I starting recognizing what the actual mechanisms of evocation are. I first published these
findings in my work Evoking Eternity, referring to these mechanisms as the Elementary Principles of Evocation. When you strip the dogma out of the ritual, when you remove all the blinds, all
the religion and all the fear, you only have the seven things left, these seven elementary principles. These principles are indeed the very things that actually make magic work. If you employ these
perfectly and diligently, then you're going to have success with evocation.

First Elementary Principle

The first is preparatory immersion. Preparatory immersion is studying the spirit, and it becomes a matter of studying with the spirit. Invest yourself in magick, in the system, and in the spirit,
as well as creating a subjective synthesis within the system. Conduct as much research as you can into the spirit that you're calling, and into the system that you will be using.
Take the time you need to prepare yourself. Prepare yourself, prepare your mind, prepare your expectations, until to your perception this is no longer mythology but is literal reality.

Second Elementary Principle

The use of a working system is principle number two. The best techniques that get passed down through oral history or through written history for thousands of years are usually those that
have been proven work. Find a system that you can use.
A lot people who are discovering ritual magick for the first time may become confused by the freedom and individuality of the whole thing, thinking that they can simply make up their own
system. Once you've mastered the magic, you can then mold it and shape it into whatever you want... once you've mastered it.
Until you've mastered evocation, you need to find a working system. These Elementary Principles of Evocation do form a pretty good working system. Study the magickal system within any
grimoire, and using these Elementary Principles, ascertain which ritual acts are contributing to what Principle, and the underlying system of that grimoire will reveal itself. Take the incantations,
the conjurations, and the various orations and adapt them, apply them to your work and to your evocation. Strip out the dogma and the fear, and insert the names and qualities of the entity that
you will summon and ensure that these seven principles are met through your ritual.

Third Elementary Principle

The third elementary principle is the attainment of omnipotence. This is what exercises like the Middle Pillar, the Lesser Banishing Rituals, opening chakras, even drawing and consecrating
the circle are aimed at achieving. These ritual practices reinforce an understanding that you are centered in reality.
In order to do the impossible, you need to know that you have all power, that you are the center of existence, that all that is flows forth from your eyes and that all that you observe is your
creation.
As you speak to the candles and the fire, and consecrate them and bring life into them, you are exercising your godhood. As you consecrate the incense or the sigil, as you draw the circle
around you and see it glimmering as you awaken it, opening its eyes so that all of it is alive, you will start to recognize that you are god here.
Attainment of Omnipotence is built into most advanced rituals through the initial orations, the confessions and purifications, and through the consecrations.
In this work and this evocation in particular, this principle is also served by the Serpent's Breath, Sah.
Sah, which is self-generative. Sah, the Father of the Gods. Sah, the Path to Immortality.
At the beginning of the ritual, before the consecrations and invocations, breathe the Serpent’s Breath, releasing as “Sah,” and view the God Star in the air before you, awaken the Dragon’s
Eye in your brow to gain the Serpent’s Sight, and the Dark Star at the base of your skull will also awaken as you release yourself to your transfiguration.
These three—The God Star, The Dragon’s Eye, and the Dark Star—will form a tunnel. The tunnel will then connect to anything that you view with your eyes or with your mind. You will
flow creation itself toward those things, realigning reality however you see fit by seeing what should be in the place of what is.

Fourth Elementary Principle

The fourth principle is substantial contact. You will need to be able to make contact with the right spirit, and a vague sense of contact is not sufficient. Evocation requires substantial contact.
There can be no question when you call the spirit that the room is no longer empty. This can be accomplished through activating the sigil of the spirit, gazing at the sigil, not staring or straining,
but relaxing your vision, relaxing your body, relaxing your mind, dropping your vision through the sigil, gazing through the parchment on which the sigil is drawn until the lines themselves lift
off the paper or until it begins to shine and shimmer, or until you simply know within yourself, within your own Knowingness, that it is done and that the spirit is there.
That's the first step of substantial contact.
The entity, in this case Amaymon, is no longer just something that you’re studying. This is a Gatekeeper. This is Amun. This is the Black Sun that I'm calling into my Temple.
Take a moment to reflect on this in silence and feel the gravity of it hit you. Let yourself be a bit nervous, a bit afraid. Let yourself even feel a little unworthy, at the same time balancing that
with the recognition of your own omnipotence.
What you are doing in evocation is heavy. If you don't feel that heaviness, you don't deserve to make contact, or you just haven't done your homework so you don’t know better. How many
human beings have bowed before this god? How many human lives have been sacrificed for this god? How many battles have been won in his name? Who is this god, and who are you to rise as
its equal?
Let the heaviness pull you into the opening of the Gateway. Let the heaviness thicken the atmosphere in the room. As you gaze at the sigil and you call the names of Amaymon, pull him into
that thickness, the heaviness becoming a black hole from which nothing can escape.

Fifth Elementary Principle

The fifth Elementary Principle is incantation or oration.
It is important to say things out loud.
The words we speak help guide and tailor the thoughts we think, which create the reality that we enjoy.
You have to give an oral command.
The invocation also acts as a way of stabilizing and strengthening the spiritual or psychic contact with the spirit.
Instead of using grimoiric conjurations, threatening the spirit in the name of some slave-god, I will use simple adorations, naming the names of the spirit, and extolling its virtues and
retelling its deeds, which are embedded into its various names and titles. Instead of attempting to extort the spirit to appear, call its name and sing its praises. Your preparatory immersion, all the
things you’ve learned, all the things that have led you to this stage start to connect.
Along with the adorations, also give a clear command, repeated with every god name spoken, “Come forth! Rise up! Move and appear! Answer my call! Rise up in the incense that has been
prepared for you! Come now in a form that I may behold and speak to me in a voice that my ears may hear!”

Sixth Elementary Principle

The sixth principle is communication. You’ve given the command for the spirit to rise. Gaze with the same gaze that is triggered with the opening of the sigil, gazing not with your eyes but
with your scrying sight at the incense smoke streaming up from the triangle, still calling out to the spirit, the connection established through the sigil and the invocations deepening, the
atmospheric tension swirling around the Temple.
This is the point in the ritual that I start losing myself, losing my sanity.
Gazing at the incense smoke, your eyes may think they see flashes of a face emerging from the smoke. Normally, you might react to this with surprise, with shock, with a gasp or with
laughter, but evocation is the antithesis of “normal.” Train yourself to react to the first appearances of the spirit by triggering a feeling of vindication. Of course, the spirit has appeared! This is
but the first sign of its coming.
To reinforce this, I will often announce what I am seeing: “Amaymon, I see your face in the incense, I hear your voice in the air, I feel your spirit upon me, and I call to you again to rise
before me now even more strongly, rise before me now in a more solid form, come now and greet me as your brother and friend!”
As the spirit materializes, what is actually happening can only be called transfiguration. Your senses and your awareness have been elevated, your perceptions have been magnified, and your
astral receptivity has been tuned to the frequency of the spirit you are calling. As you sink deeper into the evocation, as you embrace the subtle transfiguration, you then cause the incense and
candlelight to change, and you pull the spirit into the Temple and you assemble a body of smoke for it to step into. You are the center of existence. You are god in that moment.
Such a shift of the self is required every time you perform an evocation, every time that you summon a spirit. The spirit would not come if you were just a mortal man begging for its
attention. These spirits, these gods, these Gatekeepers have no respect for mortal men. They will only come when a Living God calls them.
Gazing at the incense smoke, lose yourself and allow your vision to collapse. The only thing that is real is what is going on in the triangle, and inside the darkness within. Everything else
disappears. Everything at your sides, everything above and everything below, everything behind you disappears from your attention.
With the spirit there, with the vision of it flashing before you, it is customary to simply say, “Hello,” and welcome it to your Temple.
The key to successful spirit communication is that you can’t get an answer if you don’t ask a question. I suggest that you tailor at least three excellent questions to ask the spirit, and as soon
as you have welcomed it, ask your first question, taking care to remain relaxed and attuned, your attention fixed on the spirit in the smoke.
The spirit is going to rise, and it is going to speak to you if you're ready to listen. You need to be ready to listen, you need to have trained yourself in the ability to hear and to communicate
with spirits.
The first part of evocation communication, then, is the greeting and welcoming. The second part is the questioning of the spirit to obtain the information and answers that you seek. The third
part of communication is the issuing of a command. The command you give is not a matter of you commanding the spirit, but it the Creator commanding all his creation. Term your command in
such a way that reality itself is bound to obey, which means the absence of phrases such as, “I would like,” or “Would you please.” Instead, you need to truly command existence into obedience.
The final part of evocation communication is the dismissal. Once your questions have been answered and the spirit agrees to do as you have commanded, release it from your Temple to
either return to the realm of mystery from which it came or release it into this world to do your will.

Seventh Elementary Principle

As soon as you dismiss the spirit, you will encounter the final Elementary Principle of Evocation: psychological retraction. Once the ritual is complete, you will need to ground yourself.
In the moment that the spirit departs, a sick loneliness hits me, an emptiness in the pit of my stomach, letting me know that the spirit is gone, that the deep connection built over sometimes
weeks or months of preparation is over, and I am alone again.
I don't like to linger too long in the Temple after the ritual. After taking notes in my grimoire, I will leave the Temple and do something completely mundane: make myself a sandwich, take
a walk, or go out with some friends. I’ll ground myself, shake it off, pull my mind away from the spirit, the evocation, and the consequences of its success.
Psychologically retract. Ground yourself.
This is the process of evocation.

Evoking Amaymon
“I invoke you creature of fire and air,” I commanded, my sword pointed toward the incense within the triangle of chains.
I invoke you, incense, in the name of your lord and master, Amaymon, who has been called the Lord of the Black Watchtower, Lord of the censer, the lord of perfume and incense, lord
of rising smoke. In Amaymon's name, awaken! Open your eyes and come to life. I awaken you.
I moved the point of my sword to hover above the candles at the points of the triangle, drifting from one to the next.
Creature of fire, spirit of fire, demon of fire, element of fire, I call you here into this plane, into this Temple, into this flame, so that you might rise and give birth to the vortex of power,
to the Gateway, so that you will give rise to Amaymon. Yes, in the form and the shape of the Ancient Covenant I call you now. I invoke you now. Creature of fire, spirit of fire, god of fire,
rise and come forth!
Kneeling before the triangle and the growing stream of smoke, I announced to the triangle of manifestation and to the devices thereon:
I implant my will into my creations and I charge you with this charge and this covenant. Bring forth Amaymon. Bring forth Lucifer-Amaymon. Bring forth the Black Sun. Bring forth the
shining darkness.
My eyes moved to the sigil within the pentagram upon the wall and invoked the essence of ultimate command.
I call upon you, Lord of Darkness, Emperor of the Infernal Empire, to rise up within me, to give me dominion over everything, to give me power over the Darkness itself. I lay down my
other selves and any other name by which I am known, for I am Archaelus, for I am Archaelus. I am Archaelus, and the Lord of Darkness has arrived.
The felt presence of spiritual darkness fell upon the Temple.
I moved to the altar upon which nine white candles burned, and a single black candle remained unlit.
“The nine fires burn,” I said, waving my hands above the flames, tugging at the magnetic radiation rising from the candles. “One for each Gate, one for each Keeper, and another that is
unseen is here.” I lit the black candle in recognition of the attendance of an unseen guest dwelling inside the deepest darkness within.
Holding that black candle in both hands, I knelt inside the circle, gazing into the flame, through it and at Amaymon’s sigil. “All Gates are united under the Black Flame,” I said.
All Gatekeepers are united under the Black Flame. All powers come to the call of the Black Flame. The Black Flame is within me. Yea, I am the Prince of Darkness, come into this world
in form, in body to open up the Gates to the Infernal Realm, to Outer Darkness.
I stood and took the sword into my left hand, touching its point on the fiery red line of the Universal Circle, and I moved counterclockwise, dragging the tip along the outer circle,
envisioning sacred flames spilling out of the blade into the ground, until the circle was complete.
Kneeling again inside the circle, I inhaled slowly, deeply, and released the breath with a serpent hiss and a sated “ah,” and the tunnels leapt forth from me, the Dragon’s Eye awakened and a
dark shimmer shone from everything in the Temple.
I walked to the triangle and placed a few large copal resin tears on the embered coals and returned to the center of the Circle, standing to face the triangle in which Amaymon would appear.
“Ves’ja Kala Amayamon,” I whispered the chant of the Hidden God. “Ves’ja Kala Amayamon. Ves’ja Kala Amayamon!”
My eyes fixed on the sigil of Amaymon. “Amaymon,” I called as the sigil started flashing.
Amaymon, Amaimon, Amon, Amun, Ammon, Lord of the Black Eastern Watchtower, ram-headed, two-horned god, hidden light, Lord of the Black Sun, Eye of the Dragon, breath of
venom, Secret Chamber of the Hidden God! Amaymon come. Amaymon, Lord of the Black Watchtower, come! Amaymon, he who resides beneath the Black Pyramid, come! Amaymon,
silent darkness, come. Amaymon, venomous breath, come!
As I pulled Amaymon more and more into this world, into the triangle, audible and visual chaos grew inside the Temple as if countless voices chattering insanity were growing louder but
their message growing less clear, the candlelight flickering at a seizured pace, and my vision flashed in and out, darkness closing in.
 “Amaymon is here,” I said, and the room fell silent except for the sound of my ragged breath. His sigil flashed and pulled inward, sucking all light into its center.
I gazed into the column of incense smoke, structuring in my vision a blank form, a spirit-body for him to step inside of. That imagined body became real, at first as an empty aura and then
verified as physical as the incense smoke moved around the invisible form, unable to distinguish physical from spiritual.
“Amaymon, rise up,” I commanded, my scrying sight locked on the form inside of the smoke.
Amaymon, rise up in the offering that I have made for you. Rise up into the triangle of power. Rise up Amaymon, Amun. I approach your Secret Chamber and I invoke you, oh Hidden
God.
The blank spirit-body began to solidify, Amaymon filling it with his essence and converting it to his appearance until the demon itself drifted before me above the censer, with alabaster skin
like he is made of opal and alabaster marbled with blue veins, and ram’s horns atop his head.
“Spirit, what is your name?” I asked, the initial question one of formality rather than curiosity.
The demon’s voice gurgled from the smoke, “Pass it over the fires.”
I looked down to see that my hands still clutched my grimoire. I approached the triangle, bent the grimoire open, and passed the page over the flames of the candles at the corners of the
triangle.
“Now, behold your grimoire,” Amaymon said.
I looked at the page I had opened to, expecting to see an astral imprint of Amaymon’s signature or perhaps some strange symbols in place of a cursive autograph.
Instead, I had unknowingly opened the grimoire, face down, to the page on which Amaymon’s sigil was drawn. Above his sigil, in thick, black marker I had inscribed his name, ‘Amaymon.’
Where most spirits would have signed their names in the grimoire, Amaymon instead showed me where I had already written his name, using my own handwriting in my own grimoire to
validate his presence.
I was stunned, confused, but was pulled back to the ritual when Amaymon continued speaking. “Amaymon is my name,” I heard him say, not in my head, not in my imagination, but I
heard his voice speaking, saying,
Amaymon is my name. The name by which I am called here, and another name you have given me, and another name you have given me, ten-thousand times. You asked what
my name is, yet you have written it in your own writing by your own hand. You have written, and you have summoned me forth, and you can feel me here now. As I speak with
you, is there any question as to who I am?
I noticed that the incense was being consumed more quickly than normal. The Lord of the Incense, the Lord of the Censer was consuming his sacrifice. I approached the triangle again and
dropped more tears onto the coals. As the fresh smoke rose, his image became clearer and clearer.
“Amaymon,” I addressed the Gatekeeper. “What is the Gate that you keep?”
Amaymon was silent, as if thinking, and then answered:
It is the Gate of Transfiguration, yet you have misunderstood or you have only understood the beginning, for how can one understand the ending when one barely knows the
beginning? It is you who will be transfigured, a mighty warlord, oh king of the scepter but not of the crown. The transfiguration is not only for you, for you are in Ascent as your
natural being, for you have become the God Star. You have become the shining center from which all things arise. You have become Creator. Your transfiguration is assured. We
can assist and I have been awakening you to your own godhood, for I am the one who awakens the sleeping. I am the one. I am the brightest of all lights that cannot be seen. Your
transfiguration is not only yours, but it is ours. In this moment, as you become not you, as you become the eternal Dragon's Eye, are we not both transfigured? Transfigured to
move into a greater form, to take on a vaster journey or a more defined or more perfect self. You have sought me out thinking that I can open the Gates for you; we have sought
you out because you can open the Gates.
“Amaymon, are the Gates…” I began, and then hesitated, gathering my focus and regaining my poise. “Is the Gate not within me?”
“Is the Gate within you?” Amaymon echoed.
All things are within you. All things are within you. Yes, you pretend so fiercely that you are only a piece of the all. One day, you will know and you will learn, Archaelus, that
the Source, the Creator is merely a piece of you. You are not a spark of Divine imagination; the Divine is a spark of your imagination.
“Amaymon, then what am I immersed in here?” I asked. “This isn't all just my imagination. This candle's flame burns me. I can touch and I can feel, and I can see and hear, as well as all the
other realms that I can interact with, with all of my other senses.”
Amaymon answered:
Yes. You have a created a fine world already. You have made for yourself a world that pushes you and makes you feel as if you struggle and suffer. You have even created
traps within your Ascent, beings that would come and tell you ‘thou shall not.’
A wave of instant exhaustion slammed into me, my legs gave out, and I crumpled to the floor. My stomach turned and I opened my mouth to vomit, but since I had been fasting in
preparation for the ritual, I heaved nothing but air.
“Your presence is overpowering,” I said to Amaymon.
“Swoon in it,” Amaymon said. “Dive down into the waters of your internal blackness, nothingness, and become it. Then, become the Black Sun. Become me in the darkness.”
I pulled myself to my knees and crawled to the altar on which my grimoire sat, fumbled through the pages, and finding a blank one wrote the words Become The Black Sun. The words were
Amaymon’s direct command, telling me exactly what I needed to do for the Blind Sight ritual.
“Amaymon, what is the Infernal Empire?” I asked.
“It is all that you would wish it to be," the demon-god replied.
“Is that a real place, Amaymon,” I asked.
Is it a real place just as much as this Temple is a real place? Just as much as my home as a real place, all of them existing in my sensory observation of them?
"Do you think that your senses observe all that occurs on any plane? Look now.”
My eyes were still looking in between worlds, but I could see too much. “It's like chaos,” I said. “It's chaos.”
“It is not chaos,” Amaymon corrected me.
It is potential, waiting for you to put it in order. You put it into order through naming, giving shape, and through the movement of items with your hands. Once you have
assembled what we've seen as chaotic in your mind and in your space, you have brought it into order. You understand it and it becomes a part of you. All those things which you
do not understand, you ignore or you reject.
“Not when I drop mind, Amaymon,” I snapped back. “Only when I'm using my conscious mind.”
“The conscious mind must follow,” he said.
Intuition and revelation ignite a fire within you. The fire needs to spread into your thoughts, into your words and into your actions. Then, you will be working upon the world
as god works upon the world. Thus, your position as god here will be assured.
“What powers can you offer me or the others who come to you, who I have brought to you?” I asked, moving the conversation back into realms of comprehension.
Without words, Amaymon told me to take the red candle forming the nearest point of the triangle and to offer up his blessing.
I took the candle in my hands and held it up to my eye level. I gazed into the candle, brought my breath under calm control, and let everything fade from my vision except the flame and the
black figure in the center of the flame. I forgot myself, left myself, and turned my voice over to Amaymon, to speak, knowing that his words when spoken bind reality to obey.

The Black Sun Covenants

“All who call upon me are children of the darkness,” his voice spoke from my lips.
All who call upon me are children of darkness. I am the sun shining so brightly that I cannot be seen. I am that which never dies and which has never been born. I promise
this, and I make this covenant with all the children of darkness: if you will pursue me and if you will bring me within you, and if you will become that Black Sun, I promise that
you will never die. Your body may…
My body started giving out, my brain resisting the flow of information, my bones and muscle exhausted from the flow of power through it. Amaymon’s voice rang inside of my mind,
encouraging me, supporting me. I could feel his strength scoop me up and prop my body against his dark soul so that I could stand and deliver his message.
“Your body may weaken and die,” Amaymon continued.
And you will be reborn again, and again. For you, there is no transcendence. My children of darkness, there is no return to any father in heaven. There is no salvation.
For you, there is and will only be you. My great covenant is to solidify you, to make you immortal, so that you will not dissolve upon your death, but you will be reborn in
darkness. That is my first covenant.
My second covenant is that you will know the unknowable. You will see the unseeable, as you become the Black Sun and as you bring me into you. I will leave with you
my sight. I will awaken your mind with my Knowing. I will fortify your soul with knowledge that is forbidden—forbidden for men, but essential to the Immortal Warlord
Risen from the Palaces of Pain and set upon your Throne of Shadows. I will reveal to you the secrets that the angels would keep. I will enlighten you with the methods that
will bring back to this earth an Age of Power. I covenant that I will awaken you from your slumber. I covenant that I will not let you rest but that I will drive you and pull
you, and drag you in the path of your Ascent.
If you, children of darkness, would become the Black Sun and bring me into you, if you would follow and walk, if you would follow in my footsteps until the moment that
you have learned how to walk like a god, you may then walk alongside me. Then, in time beyond, you will find that I walk in your footsteps hoping to keep up.
I came back to myself, returning with a question that in the moment felt quite urgent, but as soon as it was spoken seemed quite foolish. “What about power, Amaymon? What about power?
What powers do you have?”
His laughter shot out inside of my skull, blistering laughter, laughing as if I was trying to make a joke at his expense. “What more power can a god have than all power,” he answered.
It is not power that you need, Archaelus. It is not power that you need, children of darkness. It is knowledge of who you are, of remembrance. You will remember as you
approach me. You will know and as you know more and more who you are, your power will be limitless.
“Thank you, Amaymon, for these blessings,” I said, formally. He had more to reveal, but I had to ask the question in order to get an answer, so I searched my mind for a question worthy of a
good answer.
“Amaymon,” I shot out like an excited child raising my hand in the classroom, hoping to impress the teacher. “Amaymon, my life and affairs have been reset into disorder. How may I order
them?”
“Your life and affairs are assuming another shape of order and becoming more ordered as he observes them,” he replied.
Mortals live for less than one hundred years, yet mortals think in terms of no more than a few days ahead. Therefore, when order is in motion, when the universe begins to
reorder itself, or to assume a greater order or a greater novelty of order, from the puny observation of the human mind this is chaos. It's a whole process, and you simply haven't
observed the whole process. Go now and continue to observe as you will become more ordered. Do not get distracted by the process, for the expansion, definition, and evolution of
your life and all its affairs has only just begun. When things are cleared from your path, let them go. When new things are put in your path, consider them, meditate with them
and consider.
“In that case, it's true that nothing is accidental," I proposed.
“There are many things that occur that are not intended,” Amaymon said.
Things that are not intentional, that are not a part of any plan. You, creator of your existence, must ask yourself, ‘Why then did I create this without intention, without
purpose, why did I create this accident, or misfortune or suffering? Whatever it is, why did I create it?’ If you can still find no reason, let it go. Let the incense smoke consume and
disappear. Become the creator and all things that occur within, around, and because of you are your creations and these are reflections of yourself. If you have not created them
of your intention and will, then scrutinize them and either bend them to your service or dismiss them wholly.
I was spent. My body was done. My mind was done. Amaymon could go forever, I was certain, but I had asked the questions I needed to ask, and I had gained more than I ever hoped for.
I thanked him and dismissed him, and then I sat alone on my Temple floor trying to piece together the fragments of what I had learned.
 Blind Sight
Chapter Four

M Y work with Amaymon was not restricted to these special, few rituals, but infiltrated my every waking moment, and my dreams as well. He guided me, and still guides me, sometimes
with a voice that screams out of the darkness, sometimes with no voice at all but with an injection of wisdom or knowledge.
To align myself with him, to attune my psychic receptors to his frequency, each day is initiated by the Serpent’s Breath meditation.
The Serpent's Sight awakens, the Dragon’s Eye awakens within me and it connects to see the Darkness. The gods are before me, and eternal blackness awakens.
Lucifer-Amaymon has guided me into a level of spiritual maturity that is staggering to me. All that I have desired to become, I am becoming through Lucifer. Not just through the light of
Lucifer, but through the darkness, through Amaymon.
There is a calmness of being that's necessary. Emotions muddy everything. It's not desirable to be without emotion, but instead to be the master of it. Amaymon specifically has given me an
affirmation, an incantation.
Personally, I don't like affirmations. I don't think that simply repeating something that you don't believe, that you're seeing no evidence of, I don’t think that repeating that over and over does
you any good.
What Amaymon offered, though, is presented as an axiom, and it is also presented as a command.
“When you are agitated, your enemy’s forces multiply. When you are calm, the world becomes calm around you.”
This calmness is internal silence that is cultivated through daily discipline, and this is the key to true power. It's not the ritual that you perform from time to time, but it's where you turn your
mind, your emotions, your thoughts, your desires, and if you can dwell within yourself in silence and calmness, you become the gravitational force that all reality begins to respond to. You
become the unmoving center of a kaleidoscope of changing events.

Blind-Sight & The Black Sun

Amaymon told me in his evocation that I needed to become the Black Sun.
In the Blind Sight ritual that I performed with Belial, my goal was to see him and to see what he had to show me, and while that basic goal remained for Amaymon, I was also tasked with
learning how to become the Black Sun, how to become Lucifer-Amaymon in his primordial form.
My Universal Circle was ready when I entered for this ritual, as I had prepared the Temple the previous day. Sitting in the circle, I had set before me nine white candles, one for each Gate. I
placed a black blindfold inside the circle, in easy reach to collect and tie over my eyes when the time was right. I brought with me into the circle a sigil of Amaymon, the image of the Seed of
Darkness, and a Tibetan singing bowl to strike at the beginning of the ritual. I have a few different bowls, bells and gongs, but over the last couple of years I have preferred the sound of singing
bowls, and I have gathered a few of them in different tones for different settings and intentions. The specific one I had chosen for this rite was a smaller one with piercing tone that is attuned to
the Ajna Chakra.
When I set up the ritual space, I grabbed my sword and I set it to my left as I normally do. In the same second that I released the handle, I knew that it was not appropriate for this ritual. As I
carried it back to its resting place, it was obvious that I was to enter into the communion with Amaymon without any weapons, with my guard down. I’m to let myself be taken, transformed, to
give myself over.
I sat in the circle, and I could already feel Amaymon there. I’ve come to know that he is always with me inside of me, in my head and heart and soul. It is an entirely different feeling when
he is ‘there,’ in this physical world, in an area that can be pointed at or circled. When he is within, his presence is a constant companion and guide, and there is not much of a feeling to him at all.
He is just with me. When he is outside of me, when he is there, in this world, there is a heaviness that is felt, and at the same time a radiance, not of light but a throbbing, shimmering darkness in
the shape of an infinitely small point, the radiance emanating from that point weighing upon the entire Temple.
I took a deep breath in and released it with a hissing “Sah,” repeating the Serpent’s Breath several times, attuning myself to the Dragon’s Eye and to the Dragon, to the Great Old Serpent
who is my Father. The tunnels awakened, my sight had opened, and I was ready to begin.
I struck the singing bowl with its mallet and dragged the sound around the lip of the bowl, and I called the names of the Gatekeepers.
Belial, Amaymon, Azazel, Abaddon, Lucifuge, Beelzebub, Baal, Asmodeus, Satan. All you great Gatekeepers, I call you now to open the Gate, to open the way, to open the path, for I
am here! Itz rachu mantantu vespacha kaltamu. Itz ranta mant kala mant atzu belt tazu. Vaskalla itz ractzu kantantu velchatza!
While I concluded the opening for the ritual with the Invocation of All Powers, a voice behind me spoke, saying, “Put the blindfold on.” I shook off my annoyance at being interrupted
midway through an invocation, and I continued on with the chant.
As I pronounced the final word of the chant, the voice spoke a second time, “Put the blindfold on.”
Before I could respond or even ignore it, the voice then repeated itself a third time, “Put the blindfold on.” The ritual had been opened, and Amaymon was certainly present. Having no
reason to delay any further, I tied the blindfold around my head.
I sat blindfolded with eyes open looking into the blackness of the cloth, and I took a few moments for my vision to adjust to the absence of light, and to collect my breath and to focus my
mind before continuing.
With my physical sight obstructed and my psychic sight at full power, I brought to mind the view of my Temple as it is. I began constructing the vision by imagining the basic floor plan:
four walls, a ceiling, and a floor. I added the rugs on the floor to the vision, and then the bookcase, and my desk sitting next to it. That was enough to get the momentum moving, as the remainder
of the details filled themselves in effortlessly, the whole Temple and everything in it snapping into place within seconds, the internal vision of it as clear, vibrant and spatial as it would have
appeared to my eyes.
“Awaken the God Star,” Amaymon’s voice rattled.
I again breathed the Serpent’s Breath and brought my attention to God Star, visualizing it floating before me.
My Third Eye, the Dragon’s Eye opened wide, so wide and so fast that my forehead like it was splitting open.
“Amaymon,” I said aloud. “Lucifer-Amaymon, Amun.”
Before I could utter another sound, some invisible force knocked the wind out of me, like an unseen, giant fist that punched me in the sternum, sending me flailing backward, gasping for air.
I had enough time to take three or four good breaths before Amaymon’s full presence and radiance overtook me and began speaking through me.
“The sun that shineth shineth upon all things, and none can deny it, for even in the darkness the moon is lit by its light,” Amaymon said, using my mouth to say it.
Even in the darkness, as you turn from the sun, it remains and all things that live owe their lives to the sun. What in your life, mortal, is more obvious than the sun? What in
your life, man, is stronger than the sun? What in your life human is more visible than the sun? The Black Sun, then, is that which is infinitely invisible. The Black Sun, then, is
that which is infinitely small, and is the black center, unseen, untouched, unheard. Become the Black Sun! The sun itself radiates with light and heat. The Black Sun withdraws
deep within itself. All things visible, and invisible, are creations of mind and of sense. All that exists outside of this is the Black Sun within, the point of darkness from which no
light escapes.
Amaymon paused, but he did not withdraw from me so that I could come forth and ask a question or make a comment. He had a firm grip on my physical being, and he wasn’t ready to give
it up until he had said what he needed to say.
“Sssss,” Amaymon finally continued.
This is the sound of the hissing of the universe, of reality, of existence as it is sucked into nothingness. Become the Black Sun, and this is to become nothing. Do not seek to
expand yourself, but to withdraw yourself deep within. Become the observer of the play of illusion. Visibility, tangibility, interactability, does not make a thing real, for it exists
only by encountering the Observer. All that is real is the Observer within the observer. Become the Black Sun. Find a center within yourself that cannot be found, and in silence
you will approach it. He who dwells in darkness and is the darkness, He is the Master Controller. Your limbs, your fingers, your toes, they are not real. Your arms, your legs they
are not real. Your eyes and ears, the mouth with which you speak, they are not real. These are all products of mind. Your thoughts, they are not real. The things you feel, they're
not real. Become the Observer of the observer, infinitely small, the non-existent point of blackness that is separate from all existence, and thus you can observe and become
amused while you observe. If the tunnel opens and that which you see is not to your liking, become calm, withdraw into the inner center point, the unseen, the unknowable, the
Black Sun within. You'll find then that all the solar force is at your command. He who seeks to become the sun will be burned alive and the ashes of that fool will be scattered in
the wastes of blackness. Yet he who finds the Black Sun within will command all the heavens. My Secret Chamber is in silence and darkness. In this Chamber you will find me,
the Hidden God that cannot be found.
Amaymon loosened his clutch from my body and he withdrew from it, and I floated back into my place, in control of myself again.
For the first time since the ritual began, I saw Amaymon before me, standing seven or eight feet tall with the face of a man, aside from his crown, which was a black ram’s head.
I could see his right hand stretch out, his arm was alabaster, his hand looked strong. It kept moving toward me, stretching farther than it should have if it were a human hand, and his arm was
angled toward me in an unnatural way. I watched his hand get closer and closer until it finally touched my head. Amaymon laid his hand on the top of my head, and I could feel the weight of it as
if it was a physical hand.
“I awaken your sight. I awaken your hearing,” Amaymon proclaimed, consecrating me in much the same way that I will consecrate incense or candles before an evocation. “I open your
eyes for you, I open your ears for you, I open your mouth for you. And I open the Dragon’s Eye within.”
With that, Amaymon left, every trace of his felt presence vacuumed out of the Temple.
 I had entered the ritual in fasting, skipping breakfast to avoid vomiting if I were to become possessed. Nevertheless, the nausea was still there.
I sat in the empty Temple and considered all that Amaymon had said.
Approach Amaymon in silence and darkness at any time, and at all times. Be aware, be mindful of your state.
When you are agitated your enemy forces multiply. When you are calm, the world becomes calm around you.
All my notes from Amaymon thus far insist on self-control, the exact opposite of what Belial insisted upon.
Amaymon insists that the human being and our mind created all that exists. He insists that this is all an illusion, albeit a very persistent illusion.
Find that point within yourself, that point of darkness, that silence within where all of you, all of who you assume yourself to be, disappears. The singular point of nothingness within you.
And once you reach this, you become the Master Controller, you become Immortal.
I've studied many tests concerning the Black Sun. Just last night in preparation for this rite, I fell asleep reading Liber Nigri Solis, “The Book of the Black Sun.” It’s a good book. I have a lot
of good books, and there are a lot of good books out there, but none of them offer anything that will replace the experience of finding that single point of darkness within you, at your center.
Once you've forgotten who you are, once you've forgotten about your body and about this physical world, once your thoughts have gone away from you, once your emotions are silent, once
you are in complete silence and darkness internally and externally, you will find a collision of the inner with the outer, the upper and the lower. You will have become the singularity, and this is
the true Gateway.
Working with Lucifer-Amaymon, you must discipline yourself; you must be the Master Controller. Once you have brought all of yourself into perfect control, everything external of you
becomes completely malleable. As long as you still are the person who thinks and feels, as long as you're still a person, you are powerless. Become instead the Gateway. Become instead the
Black Sun that is infinitely small, the unseeable, unknowable, unkillable, immortal point within you.
There's no easy way to the center of the self, but it can be found in darkness and silence.
 Scrying Into Black
Chapter Five

T HE final proper ritual that I would conduct with Amaymon was the “Mirror Gate” working, for which I would normally sit in front of my six foot tall scrying mirror and activate it as a
Gateway through which these beings can enter our world freely.
There is no soft way to walk this path.
I began this Gatekeeper pathworking a little over six months ago, and in that short span of time my life has been turned upside down, shaken, and relocated. Because I push magick so hard,
because I perform rituals on a daily basis, because I commune with the most ancient and powerful entities known to man, and because I fully invite them into my life, I’ve had to accept that I
can’t rely on circumstances to be predictable or dependable. I live my life in the vortex of a whirlwind of power, so I’m never surprised when the world around me shifts, sometimes in dramatic
ways. Being fluid and able to adapt to the new reality that I’ve created is one of the traits that lends to my personal magickal success rate.
What I wasn’t prepared for in starting this pathworking was how much it would change me. I like to think that I am the unchanging center of an ever-shifting kaleidoscope of experiences,
but that’s more a fantasy of who I’d like to be than a reality of who I am. The reality is that for you, as the Sorcerer, to change the world that you observe around you, you yourself will need to
change. Sometimes the change needed is a simple shift of perspective or a rerouting of effort in alignment with your goals.
The momentum that is required for this pathworking is intense, and it leaves very little question in my mind about the promised self-evolution on this path.
Belial is a deconstructionist, an iconoclast. He challenges everything. He resists everything, and he demanded that I also resist everything, breaking down all my oaths, all the authorities, and
all the expectations of others, and of myself. Everything needs to be doubted, questioned, and either proven to be of value or scheduled to be exterminated. He is always vigilant, always scanning
for the next stumbling block to make itself known so he can mock it and spit on it before obliterating it from reality.
Lucifer-Amaymon is a teacher, an enlightener. He teaches the “Inner Game” of magick, and the ability to succeed at that Inner Game is tethered to your ability to detach from emotion and
from any internal reaction at all, calmly observing not “reality” itself, but he demands a full layer of separation between the self and the manifestations of the self that we call “reality,” and this
can be achieved through his teaching to “Become the Observer of the observer of reality.”
During my work with both of these Gatekeepers, I didn’t simply listen to their advice and try to see things from their perspective. Their perspective became my perspective. How they think,
how they feel, how they see everything was transferred to me, and I willingly opened myself to the change, giving my life over to them in a very literal way.
I bring this up to emphasize the importance of the way that these beings and this pathworking is approached. A lot of people will think that they can wade into this. They want to take it
slowly and safely and make sure that everything is perfect before they fully immerse themselves. It is very clear that we are well beyond that point. Humanity is beyond the ability to sit and wait.
I took direction straight from Lucifer-Amaymon himself, and he ran with it, rearranging the order of the rituals and the way that I approach them and insisting that I focus on areas that I
otherwise would only have glossed over.
Possession had been constant throughout this working, not coming and going, only varying by degrees, possessed day and night by Amaymon, by Lucifer.
The name Lucifer by itself does not describe this energy. This is Amaymon. He is a Lucifer, incarnated as Amaymon, the Dark Core.
As I prepared for the Mirror Gate rite, Amaymon insisted that I face away from the mirror gate throughout the Operation. Instead, he directed me to place a clear quartz sphere on the Temple
floor inside of the Universal Circle.
I sat on the floor, my back to the giant scrying mirror, the gateway through which they're supposed to travel, not concerned about what visions my physical eyes might catch, but instead
allowing the Gateway and whatever would come through to become whatever it needed to be.
I had prepared very specific questions for Amaymon. The way that he had chosen to teach me was not through conversation or instruction, but through inspiration, through automatic
revelation. It was indeed effective in teaching the deep, Inner Game of magick and Ascent, but it seemed to ignore the nuances, all of which seem quite important to me. So I came before him
with a list of questions that I was determined to have answered.
Amaymon had taught me incredible things about myself, but hardly anything about who he was. Most of my questions were aimed at getting to know him much better.
Is he merely a personification of a solar deity? Hardly! What else is he? Who else is he? Did he exist before the sun? Is he an egregoric manifestation of sunlight or the mysteries of the
Black Sun? I already knew that these Gatekeepers weren’t egregores or thoughtforms, creations of the minds of the masses that collectively we have brought to life. If not the simplest
explanation, then what?
I needed to know more about the mutual transfiguration, the Black Alchemy, about humanity’s mysterious past and origins, and our uncertain destiny.
Amaymon relishes autonomy, so I had become a bit accustomed to him turning my questions around by saying, “Well, what do you think? You're the creator of your reality.” I
suspected that was why he didn’t want me to look into the mirror directly, instead demanding that I look in the opposite direction, keeping the mirror out of my sight completely, because that
which I do not behold is the unknown, the unmanifest, like it is all quantum soup behind me waiting to snap into form as soon as I look at it.
It could become anything.
In addition to gaining some insight into Amaymon himself, I also wanted to know what the Infernal Empire is. Is it an actual place or an idea?
The common thread was obvious: I was fleshing out what of this is actually real and what of it is metaphor and symbolism, and I intended to remove the unnecessary and redundant from this
pathworking.
As has become my ritual habit, I brought my personal grimoire, a pen and a black marker into the circle with me to refer to for research notes, ritual steps, questions or barbarous words and
to write or draw anything that I would receive.
I began with Amaymon’s meditation of the Serpent’s Breath, inhaling, pulling my omnipresent being into a singularity within me, letting it implode into perfect silence, finding the Black
Sun within and then exhaling to push my vision through the God Star, which at that point was no longer an imaginary thing but has since remained as an extension of my energetic field and a
living focus of my Third Eye.
As the magickal fugue overcame me, I turned my eyes to the quartz sphere on the ground in front of me and whispered Amaymon’s chant, “Ves’ja Kala Amayamon. Ves’ja Kala
Amayamon. Ves’ja Kala Amayamon,” my soul pulled in descending spirals with each repetition, and at the same time the felt presence of Lucifer-Amaymon gathered force and mass.
The sigil awakened, the ink disappearing from the parchment, and when it returned it was coursing with energy and purpose, the center of the sigil an open Gateway.
“Ves’ja Kala Amayamon,” I called out, expecting my voice to sound muffled against the nonphysical clamour sweeping in spirals through the Temple as the energy began assembling itself
into form.
Amoimon, Lord of the Black Eastern Watchtower, come! Ves’ja Kala Amayamon! Baal Hammon, come! Lord of the incense and the censor, come. Ram-headed, two-horned god, come!
Hidden Light and Lord of the Black Sun, come. Eye of the Dragon, awaken! Breath of venom, come to me. Ves’ja Kala Amayamon!
The crystal ball filled with a milky fog pouring from its center to the edges, clearing seconds later, the fog leaving a vision behind inside of the sphere, or a vision deep inside of me, my
mind disregarding any preference for external or internal as the two merged at the Crossroads within me.
In the vision in the crystal orb in front of me, I beheld the gate behind me.
The Mirror Gate was open, the black painted surface stretching and yawning and birthing obscene legions into this world, hideous creatures pouring forth into the physical realm like little
monsters made of smoke, solidifying in the moment that their vaporous bodies contacted physical air. I could see them wrapping like shadows around the walls and into the corners, so many that
I couldn’t even guess the number of them.
They were preparing the way for Amaymon.
My disgust at the arrival of the Shadow Minions faded as I marveled at the novelty of Amaymon’s ritual setup that allowed me to see them, scrying into the crystal ball only to use it to look
into a second scrying device only a couple of feet behind me. Generating and sustaining psychic feedback until it pushes into visible manifestation.
It’s mind-boggling to see what you cannot see.
The shadows continued pouring forth and spirits rained down into the darkness, into the Temple. Amaymon came through the Mirror Gate.
I could see him taking form in the mirror behind me as if it was in front of me, like I was looking into Ouroboros Machine with two quantum contact points, and as I connected with one end,
I also connected with the other, switching places, only conscious of my body’s location and position enough to describe what I saw to cameras and audio devices that I had nearly forgotten were
running.
Despite the details of my physical placement in causal reality, in my vision I was turned around facing the mirror as Amaymon took form in its first as a coagulation of white fog and then as
a large, ram-horned demon, his hellish portence contrasted by his wardrobe, a white Roman toga, ram-headed god, ram-headed god turned demon, the epitome of darkness and yet a scholar and
teacher.
As I digested the sight of him, his white toga inherited a bluer tint, the whole thing gradually becoming cerulean, then azure, and finally indigo. His whole form then immediately mutated
into a dragon, but most definitely not like any dragon depiction of a dragon that I’d ever seen with wings and talons and fiery breath. No, Amaymon became an enormous serpent springing from
a coil and blackening the daylight as it launched into the sky.
The dragon came closer to the mirror, which was surely a window through which I could see not another realm or place, but I could see what was occurring there, in my Temple, in the
physical world, invisible to the unawakened senses. The dragon’s image came even closer until all that I could see was its face, and then its eye, his eye, the Eye of Amun. His Eye filled the
entire mirror, the Dragon's Eye filled my entire sight.
“The Dragon's Eye is within me, awakened, opened,” I announced to my mentor in the mirror. “Amaymon, thank you. Thank you for coming.”
“Open the tunnel of darkness,” the words spilled out of the Eye. “Open the tunnel to the God Star and see the darkness.”
 The nine-pointed Seed of Darkness appeared in my vision, not in the mirror, but floating in the air above the mirror’s surface. It had come to life, the Seed of Darkness, which is so dark that
it shines in the absence of light, a Dark Star shining, not a black hole, not the absence of light, but a shimmering darkness coalesced into a point, with nine rays emanating from its center. As I
looked at the floating star, I could feel it in my chest, where I took it into me with Belial a half a year earlier.
I realized that I had allowed the Star to distract me entirely from Amaymon and from the questions I had to bring before him.
I relaxed and refocused my gentle attention back to Amaymon. “Amaymon,” I whispered, my voice barely breaking from my lips. “Amaymon, come.”
My vision sank and reawakened to see the Eye had not abandoned its place in the center of the mirror.
“Who are you?” I asked, grabbing my first question before the spiritual circus took my attention away again. “Are you a personification of the solar deity, a personification of darkness, of
the unknown?”
A flash of Knowing and feeling slapped me with the understanding of how Amaymon viewed me in that moment: as a stupid child asking stupid questions.
“Amaymon, it's far from a stupid question,” I shot back at him through the mirror before me… behind me. “It's a verification, it's a consecration, it is a furthering of the communion. Who
are you?”
He replied, “There are many who would think that early man looked to the sun and saw the light, and they named this light Lucifer. But they could not account…” Amaymon’s
message trailed off as my attention grabbed on to a drifting concern for semantics.
“The name of this light is Lucifer, as well as many other names,” I said aloud like a stupid child interrupting the teacher with a stupid comment.
“Lucifer is only one, only one,” Amaymon continued.
But it is light, and the light and the sun from which it comes cannot be parted. Are they not one and the same? When they could not account for all the mysteries of the sun,
when they could not account for the darkness within the core of the sun, the darkness within the core of all things, then they imagined that was me. From that imagining, I was
then created. This is what many would think, and many are wrong. I have taken my habitation in the dark core of the sun. I have taken my habitation in the dark center of man. I
have taken my habitation not in the unknown but in the unseen, and this is where you may find me.
“When you do not know me, I am Amaymon,” the Gatekeeper continued.
When you discover me, when I am revealed to you, I am then Lucifer, for the darkness then becomes the light, becomes known and seen, and seeing is believing, yet there's a
journey to being able to see.
As Amaymon spoke, my vision was locked in with the Eye in the mirror, in the crystal ball, a very clear eye, the Dragon's Eye, the words and thoughts emanating from it.
“Did you exist before the sun?” I asked.
I existed. I exist. I will never cease to be. All that is around you can be called temporary or illusory because it all eventually shall fall. But I... I live forever. I am immortal.
I glanced at my grimoire and found the next prepared question. “What exactly is the mutual transfiguration,” I asked. “If you're immortal and you're all powerful?”
He interrupted to correct me, saying, “I’m not all powerful. I'm not all powerful. Omnipotence can only be had by those who exist in all planes at once.”
Humans are the only beings that we know of that exist in all planes at once because our many bodies are operating in all of these different dimensions simultaneously. You're only
consciously aware of a fragment of it. Then again, it has been diligently established that we simply don’t know very much about anything, and in our ignorance we might think ourselves far more
unique than is warranted.
“How is this evolution going to go about?” I asked. The Eye in the mirror faded, and I thought for a moment that it was gone but then I saw a faint ghost of the Eye remaining. The eye is
always there, the Dragon's Eye is always there, always watching, always waiting to be seen.
Amaymon’s genius is manifest through his refusal to allow language to hinder communication. Instead of speaking his answer, he thrust it into me, and as I saw it and knew it, I spoke it out
loud to my audience of recording devices.
“Our current human species is not the first intelligent life to live on this planet, physically. We are the most advanced model,” I said, my conscious mind unpacking Amaymon’s insight,
speaking then not to the cameras or voice recorders, but to Amaymon, waiting for him to correct or redirect me. He did not, silence his sign of approval. “Our current model, our current species
has gone through three processes of stimulated evolution, Amaymon, stimulated by you!”
The Eye took dominance in the mirror again. “Stimulated by us, by us,” his voice corrected and I knew that by “us,” he meant all the Gatekeepers and us, humans, joined together in a
mutual effort.
“There have been three major leaps in evolution to bring us to where we are now,” I continued unravelling Amaymon’s unwritten history of humanity.
The first was the creation of the basic form, the shape of man, not as a monkey or an ape, but not too far off... a bipedal creature. To get us to that state was directed
evolution, it was important for us to have these particular types of bodies.
The second evolution was the evolution not of the mind or the brain, although the brain is a part of it, but the Knowing, the understanding faculties, which are separate
from the mind somehow, of the ability to understand, which then went along with the rapid and unprecedented growth of the human brain.
“The third phase of evolution was a stunting of evolution,” I said, not considering the implications of what I was retelling until after it had been spoken. “Oh, Jesus,” I gasped.
“There's a danger in developing too quickly,” I explained to myself, leaning wholly on Amaymon’s transferred knowledge. What if a child who is only a few months old grows into full
adulthood and, because of that, has an adult body, adult urges, without the wisdom and the knowledge gained through the years of growing into adulthood? If we are the newest and the best
model, the previous models were allowed to develop too quickly and so our development was stunted.
“Then arose kings and priests placed on the path of the seeker and placed as a stumbling block for the whole race of men,” Amaymon’s memories flowed through me.
Kings and priests delivering falsehood, delivering lies, sowing discord, turning men against men. This is not our natural stage. Kings and priests destroyed, but they were put
there on purpose, though.
I shook my head, not fully grasping what I was receiving, or not fully believing the words I, myself, was speaking.
“Amaymon is saying that these beings are directly responsible for our evolution as human beings,” I said, trying to form a summary of what he was handing me, but I gave up the task with
those words, instead furthering the line of questioning.
“How?” I asked. “How were you able to stimulate this evolution?”
The Eye faded and Amaymon returned to his form as a ram-headed figure, the demonic scholar.
“During certain alignments,” he began, “not only of stars and constellations, but alignments in your time, alignments in your…” The word wouldn’t come, as if there was no word for
the thing. Amaymon said the word, but my brain was not able to unscramble it and make it make sense. I took a breath, calmed myself, and saw a vision of countless intersections of light, like
lasers cutting across each other in every direction, cutting through physical reality.
“These are lines of energy and potentiality,” I said, my conscious mind slipping into gear again. “As everything is in motion, when these lines line up in the right way, it allows doorways to
open between the worlds.” In addition to astronomical alignments, then, a special alignment of unseen yet fundamental rays of energy and potential was also required to truly open the Gates.
“Then they planted seeds,” I moved forward. “They planted seeds of... in some cases, in stimulating global temperature shifts, thereby creating new food sources.”
I stopped speaking, stopped receiving, and blurted out:
That's insane! To say that they were able to come through and have an effect in the world, in this world, in this reality, heating up the planet in order to make certain things happen, or
cooling off it, creating temperature shifts, which creates a whole chain of events. They're taking credit as our creators. They're taking credit as our creators! Yet, isn’t this what every ancient
account says that they are?
I trailed off, silently perplexed.
“No, we are not your creators,” Amaymon clarified.
To create is to bring something new from nothing into full manifestation in all worlds. We're not creators. We are not creators. We take that which is and mold it and shape it.
We can move it and we can even transmute it entirely. But creation must first exist. This is where the union and communion with man and woman becomes necessary, for you are
creators. Your minds, your knowledge, your insights can lead you to understand or to imagine things that have yet to be brought into manifestation. Then just merely by creating
the thought, the idea, a manifestation flows. Then it can become nothing.
My analytical mind was in total shock. I was sitting, looking into a crystal ball, scrying through that into a giant mirror behind, in which I could see Amaymon, one of the nine most ancient
and powerful entities in all of existence, and I was listening to him claim that he and his Gatekeeper friends were responsible for our evolution entirely.
Even as the thought tripped through my mind, Amaymon corrected me. “Not entirely, not entirely, but substantially,” he said.
I again received Amaymon’s knowledge, and again I repeated it out loud as it came:
We worked in combination with them. We had the choice whether to partake of the fruit. We had the choice and we made the choice to leave innocence, to leave the freedom
of not knowing, and to enter into becoming a being who questions, and that they acted three times to direct our evolution, twice to stimulate evolution, and the third intervention
to stunt our growth.
“It’s too much, Amaymon,” I complained.
“If you don't want the truth then stop asking for it," he replied.
“Okay,” I resigned myself. “I reserve the ability to determine whether what I'm receiving is the truth until it weighs itself out.”
His form in the mirror again returned to that of the Dragon's Eye. "You will have evidence,” he said, his voice calm and certain. “You have had evidence, and you will continue to receive
evidence, more evidence than could ever be denied.”
“Okay,” I acknowledged, feeling as if a pact was sealed in my acceptance.
Still, I received and I spoke as it came.
This is the fourth turning. After the Kali Yuga, after the dark age, the age of violence and darkness has passed, that we would then return to the Golden Age. This is
knowledge, gold. It's of the sun, it's light. After thousands of years, our evolution will get back on track because we're finally ready. We're finally ready! But what’s the end
result?” I became quite conscious that I was engaged in a conversation and argument with myself.
“What's the end result?” I repeated and then relaxed and the flow resumed. He said:
There are five phases. We've experienced three, we're upon the fourth, the fourth turning, the fourth revolution. Turning is the word I'm getting. The fourth turning is
when man discovers that your very body and being indeed exists in multiple dimensions, multiple spaces. That space and time are very real, but they do not limit us as much
as we think they do. The next step is to recognize that we are not, as Robert Bruce says, our bodies, but that our bodies are the singularities through which we can flow. This
 will lead to the realization that we are immortal. This will also come with the knowledge that indeed mankind is all powerful. This will be difficult to accept, and it is difficult
to accept. Many will refuse to accept what they learn. This is not going to be something that is limited only to the prophets and the warlocks, but this is something that's going
to be scientific fact. It's going to be undeniable.
Man is going to begin to open up gateways, tunnels through space and time. This is already going on. It's going on magically, it's going on scientifically. As we do so, we're
going to start to realize and learn that it didn't take a tunnel to get from here to there because there is no separation.
“I don't understand all of that,” I admitted, withdrawing my mind from Amaymon’s knowledge.
"We know,” he said without emotion.
This is not information for your mind, this is Knowing, so that when it is upon you, as it is upon you now, that you will not become so alarmed as to assume this is the end of
the you.
“What does this evolutionary process look like for you, on your side of the veil then?” I asked.
Immediately upon asking, I saw a human form, and I understood and interpreted out loud:
Once we become aware of our omniscience, omnipresence, and omnipotence, once we become aware that we're not trapped in these bodies, but that these bodies are points of contact,
singularities, seeing all the lines that I was describing earlier, that these all intersect with men, within men. Once we’ve hit that point, we can see light coming into us, into me, into my body.
I'm seeing myself as that person now, crisscrossed with these intersections of reality, experiencing it all at once, but still being the singularity, which you can achieve through Soul Travel,
which I have achieved through soul travel and I can access already. But then there's a light that comes in and all dimensions are present at once. Then we become the Gatekeepers and we
open the Gates. Then we may meet these Gatekeeper in the flesh.
“No!” Amaymon interrupted. “No, not in the flesh.”
“We can meet them in a substance and a form that even the most layman could not deny.” I finished his thought.
“This is upon you, Archaelus,” Amaymon said. “This is upon you now.”
Indeed, it was upon me. “If you take the form and everything that we know about everything that we can touch and feel,” I explained what was coming through from him.
All of these things, we feel like they're separate from energy and Source, but they're not. They're all imbued with it. What if that became a physical reality, the light
becoming physical, the spiritual radiance becoming not physical because physical isn't all there is, but expanding our understanding of what ‘physically’ means, what reality
even is will then allow us to become something completely different.
How could the predecessor, how could ‘us’ in stage two ever comprehend what stage three or four would be? We're now on stage three, halted evolution, intentionally
halted evolution. Maybe not halted, but slowed. How can we see what it would be like to have that evolution creep back up and what that would create? What would become
of that? We couldn't.
Amaymon became the Dragon's Eye. He closed, the burning fire within his eye closed, and then the Eye closed, and it became nothing. It was again a point of blackness, infinitely small.
"You see?” Amaymon said. “You cannot see the thing that you have not seen until you see it. Then darkness becomes light.” •
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