Time flew like an arrow, and the months rolled by in song.
Three months had passed, and thanks to God, none of Adam's people had any real feelings—no desires, no ambitions. Scientific research? Forget it. The great mission of progress fell entirely on the shoulders of a science student who barely passed high school physics.
But Adam was nothing if not stubborn. Within three months, relying solely on his own wits, he managed to achieve several incredible breakthroughs: the wheel, paper, printing… He even crafted gun barrels—though without proper chemistry, gunpowder remained beyond his reach. And a compass? Let's just say magnetism was still a mystery.
Ever practical, Adam set aside further experimentation, content to let posterity know who had invented what, and turned his focus back to the pressing matter: how to get that apple.
First, he had to find God. Problem was, God was conveniently missing. That left only the angels—and their powers… well, he wouldn't die trying. This time, he wrapped himself head to toe in copper armor. Forging iron was still a distant dream—blame high school chemistry.
Adam acted decisively. His mission was clear: for women, for conquest, for the heavens—mischief was a noble pursuit.
A month passed. Every one of his people now had horses and armor. Copper armor, naturally. And thus, the first organized human army was born, their imaginary enemy the angels themselves.
On a dark, stormless night, Adam led his ragtag force from the hills, bellowing his usual threats:"I warn you! Come out now, or I'll torch your precious Eden!"
History would later note that fire's first great use was intimidation, and Adam, well, he had plenty of practice.
A lone angel descended. Another six-winged messenger, but not the same one as before. This one was male—and clearly, Adam decided, a troublemaker.
"I want the apple," Adam declared bluntly, tilting his chin with utter disdain. Why? Because he didn't like anyone prettier than him. Whoever dared challenge his looks would face consequences.
"No," the angel replied just as bluntly.
"Then I want a woman," Adam shot back. If God wanted to sulk, let him.
"I'll pass your request on to the Lord."
"When will I get an answer?"
"The Lord is resting. I can't pass it along until He wakes."
"And when will He wake?"
The angel shrugged, and turned to leave.
"Wait!" Adam barked. "Comrades! Charge! Flatten him until he doesn't recognize himself!"
The primitive cavalry surged, wooden clubs raised, their leader bellowing like a true emperor.
After several miles, both man and beast were exhausted. Copper armor? Heavy as sin. Lesson learned the hard way: heavy cavalry does not mix with copper.
Three days later—yes, definitely three days—Adam awoke again. Defeated. Time to rethink strategy. Iron armor, perhaps, might tip the scales. While waiting for God's reply, he turned his mind to the next problem: iron. A mill was one thing, but iron production? Total mystery.
Two more years passed, punctuated by frustration, hormones, and mental exhaustion. Adam's patience thinned. Once again, he resorted to the ultimate solution: threats.
"You old man! Come out, or I burn Eden!"
Sure enough, an angel descended—this time, twelve wings.
Adam's keen mind calculated quickly. This was history-worthy: the first contact with Lucifer himself.
"Lord asks me to inquire, what is your business?" The angel's pride barely concealed beneath his calm.
Adam smiled, running a hand through his hair. "Ah, nothing too serious. I merely wish to treat my esteemed elder to some refreshment." Behind him, his primitive archers reluctantly lowered their bows.
This was Lucifer—God's right hand before his fall, the true Satan.
The snake from before? Just a snake. Adam had been mistaken, but history had a way of simplifying narratives.
Lucifer, caught off guard by flattery, brought his sword but paused, confused by Adam's antics.
"Big brother, I have nothing to offer. Just a humble drink, to clear your journey's dust." Adam's charm and cunning prevailed.
Soon enough, Adam had Lucifer hooked on a simple pleasure: wine. And as the Lord napped, Adam's ultimate trick played out—Lucifer took a bite of the apple.
The first step of rebellion complete. And the sun rose over Eden.