The throne room of Heaven was silent, vast, and blinding with golden light.
Millions of angels bowed in reverence, their wings folded as the sound of eternity echoed in the air.
Yet in the midst of this holy stillness, one figure stood tall, unbent, and unafraid.
Lucifer.
Once the most radiant of the host, his beauty was sharp like a blade.
His eyes glimmered with pride, and a smile tugged at his lips, not of joy, but of defiance.
He stepped forward, the sound of his footsteps a contrast to the endless hymns around him.
He raised his voice.
"Today, the chosen one will be created, right?
The special creation who will wear the Crown of Creation, chosen by You, the Almighty.
But tell me, Father, don't You think I should test him first?
To see if he is worthy of such power?"
A murmur spread among the angels.
Some gasped in horror, others looked away, for none dared question the Almighty.
Then God's voice filled the throne room, not thunderous, not angry, but steady and absolute.
"You may test him, Lucifer.
But you will not harm him physically.
My hand will protect his body.
Do as you wish, but remember, power does not come from rebellion.
Power comes from Me: the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.
And hear this: believe, and you will do My wonders."
For the first time, a shadow flickered across Lucifer's perfect face.
He tilted his head, amused, though pride burned at the words.
"So be it," he whispered.
"I don't need to break his body.
I will break his soul.
I will make his life so miserable that he will curse You to Your face."
Lucifer's smile widened.
It was not a smile of light, but of the darkest intent.
Far below Heaven, the mortal world spun on.
In a small, dimly lit hospital room, a cry pierced the night.
A mother had given birth to a son.
His body was frail, his skin pale, his face twisted in a way that made even the midwives exchange uneasy glances.
To the parents' credit, they smiled through the pain of judgment, whispering, "He is ours, and we love him."
They named him Ernest Acura.
At first, they told themselves his strangeness was nothing.
But as Ernest grew, the truth became harder to ignore.
By six, he could not write the alphabet.
He stared at letters as if they were locked doors, keys forever lost to him.
His teachers shook their heads.
"No condition," the doctors said.
"He is normal."
But Ernest's results proved otherwise.
No matter how hard he tried, he failed.
Other children raced ahead, learning with ease.
Ernest stumbled over words, numbers, even simple tasks.
His classmates mocked him.
"Weirdo."
"Retard."
"Failure."
The labels clung to him like rot.
Girls avoided him.
Boys laughed behind his back.
Even teachers gave up, telling him he would never be anything more.
Home was no refuge.
School was no escape.
The world itself felt like a cage.
Yet Ernest never hated.
He never lashed out.
He endured.
He prayed quietly, whispering to God that maybe tomorrow, he would do better.
Maybe one day he would find something he could be good at.
He did not know Heaven watched him.
He did not know Hell watched him.
And he did not know the truth that would one day shake the earth.
Ernest was not an angel.
There was nothing supernatural in his blood, nothing heavenly in his nature. He was not born with divine strength or special abilities. He was simply human, fragile and ordinary like every other person who had ever walked the earth.
But that was the point.
Ernest represented what a human could become when fully surrendered to God. Not a creature of power, but a living example of grace. Not a being of perfection, but a proof that God chooses the weak to shame the mighty.
God had prepared for him a glorified body, not a supernatural form, but the perfected state of a redeemed human. A body strengthened not by nature, but by the Spirit of God. A vessel meant to carry the Gospel across the world.
One day, Ernest would walk with authority over angels, not because of his strength, but because the Almighty would appoint him. His power would not be his own, but the power of the God who had spoken, "Believe, and you will do My wonders."
He was not special by birth.
He was special because God decided that a simple human, fully surrendered, could change the world.
And Hell feared that truth more than anything.
On September 18th, as Ernest's seventeenth birthday passed quietly, Lucifer's laughter echoed through the void.
He had watched the boy grow, stumble, and crawl under the weight of failure.
He had watched him walk alone, abandoned in silence, mocked in daylight.
Now the Morning Star smiled in satisfaction.
"One year left," Lucifer murmured.
"One year to twist him.
One year to make him break.
One year to turn the chosen one against the God who crowned him."
The game had begun.
And Heaven waited.
For the day would come when Ernest Acura would rise, not as an angel, but as a glorified human vessel carrying divine authority.
A messenger of the Gospel.
A bearer of wonders.
A chosen one who would one day hear God say,
"Go. Spread My Word to the nations."
Day 1. Outside the simulation.
Arthur sat in front of Kira and spoke without hesitation.
Arthur said kira time to answer all the question let begin project why.
Kira asked what is project why.
Arthur replied.
I believed humans followed narratives, not truth.
I believed faith was a survival strategy.
I believed morality was a myth created to keep groups stable.
I believed free will was a beautiful lie.
And I believed I could prove it.
Project Why is not about controlling humanity. It was about dissecting humanity. Arthur wanted to answer the oldest question on earth.
Why do humans do what they do.
Why do they love.
Why do they choose good.
Why do they choose evil.
Why do they believe.
Why do they follow.
Why do they fight for meaning even when life breaks them into pieces.
Why do they fear.
Why do they worship.
Why do they betray.
Why do they break.
Why do they rise again.
Arthur leaned closer and said so i am going to use him to experiment on him and solve project why i would understand humanity.
Kira said you cant know everything at the same time as Arthur.
Kira said what the hell at the same time again.
Kira said are you an ai or a demon at the same time.
Kira tried to outsmart him and said babyfood at the same time.
She felt fear. Pure fear.
Arthur said i have know you to the point i know every word you would say, this project must be done and you arent allow to leave outside again or i kill your mother and i am fucking serious.
Kira broke down not to do it and she agreed to inject him to sleep as he wanted to wake up inside the simulation.
Arthur was happy because in the simulation he pushed characters, choices, morality, power, loyalty, and faith to their limits because he wanted answers he could never get in the real world.
And he was so smart no fbi could trace him down.