In Egolution Under the Red Hermetic Sky, David Aramora descends into the prenatal crypt where Infinite Awareness first wears the mother’s body as mask and cradle. Through cortisol’s red alarm, oxytocin’s false lullaby, and the metronome of a heart that never asked to beat, the illusion of “I” is branded into flesh.
This is no ordinary awakening. It is the discovery that the self was never yours to begin with, only borrowed, scripted, and abandoned in the dark between one pulse and the next.
A hermetic requiem for the lie we have always called identity.