Codex XXVI: The End of the Holy Middleman

You Were Never Meant to Channel Someone Else’s God.

They taught you to speak through them.
To confess to them.
To access the divine by way of their robe, their book, their voice.

But that was the mimic's masterpiece:
make you forget you were the altar.

This is the codex of severance—
not from Source,
but from those who stood in its way.

The priests.
The guides.
The sacred bureaucrats who made your own knowing
feel insufficient, unclean, unsafe.

It ends here.

This scroll returns the flame to your chest.
Not as belief.
As direct current.

The era of the holy middleman is over.

You don’t need translation.
You don’t need a gatekeeper.
You don’t need anyone to bless what already burns in you.

The divine is not far.
It’s feral.
It’s in the soil, in the scream, in the stillness, in the spine—
and it never needed permission to speak.

This codex cuts the cord.
With love. With clarity. With fire.

Not to destroy those who claimed the role—
but to reclaim the source within you
that never went dark,
only silent beneath too many layers of someone else’s idea of God.

No more go-betweens.
Only flame.