And we left off with Adam, having lost his wife (for the second time), being given a new task: to lead humanity to the light.
So, the esteemed ladies and gentlemen Seraphim, dead serious, entrusted the fate of humanity to a forty-year-old youngster who, at that moment, was in a severe depression. Moreover, they didn't even hint at what exactly he should do, but simply dumped him and bolted to the heavens, somehow trying to stabilize the universe and seal off Heaven from darkness…
And so Adam began to "lead humanity to the light," to the best of his understanding. Only, there was one tiiiny little nuance. He couldn't choose between darkness and light and didn't know what "leading to the light" meant. Adam, like the Seraphim, had no capacity to become evil; he hadn't eaten the fruit of knowledge and wasn't a descendant of someone who had. He was an essence of light, converted into matter and endowed with consciousness.
This very thing prevented him from comprehending the concept of darkness and light, good and evil.
But all his children knew this concept, and they made their choice daily. The more time passed, the more of his children fell into darkness, for they saw no point in remaining good: what's the point of going hunting and risking your life if you can ambush a hunter with his prey and stab him with a sharpened stone? What's the point of winning the love of your beloved girl if you can sneak into her yurt at night and do whatever you want with her? For the first few weeks, people were united by the need for survival and the desire to survive, but then...
In Eden, all animals were partially sentient; they loved humans and didn't harm them. In return, humans didn't hunt them but ate vegetables and fruits. But on Earth… On the very first day, a handful of survivors were attacked by wild animals, which mauled several poor souls right before Adam's eyes. Adam was the first to come to his senses and managed to crush the bones of one of these beasts, which was an ancestor of today's tigers. The second one ran away.
And from that moment, skirmishes with wild beasts began. And subsequently, when problems arose with berries and fruits, the decision was made to roast and eat the meat of these very beasts.
Only, Adam didn't issue any laws, simply because the very concept of laws and orders was unknown to people of that time.
When Adam realized that most of his "children" had already embraced darkness, he, in despair, began to think about how to get out of this situation in such a way that they would return to the light and help the whole "tribe."
It was then that he issued the "First Laws," which were also known as the "Three Laws."
Thou shalt not kill.Thou shalt not steal.Thou shalt not harm.
Those who violated these laws were punished by being put in a pit without food or water for a week, after which they were given a chance to change.
At first, it even helped, but then thieves and brawlers, who got into fights, figured out that if the one they robbed or beat up didn't tell who did it to them, there was a chance they wouldn't be found.
Then a rampant trend of murder began. After all, every crime had the same punishment. Then Adam changed the terms of punishment: for theft, they were jailed for 5 days, for causing harm for 7, and for murder for 12.
Then a new sin appeared: lying.
Those caught red-handed would start sweet-talking, saying they didn't want to steal anything, just took a look, and were ready to return it, and so on.
In short, I think it's clear that Adam was VERY disappointed in his descendants.
If it weren't for those who were honest and remained loyal to the light, I'm afraid Adam himself would have offed himself in the first month of such a life.
By the way, about those loyal to the light.
Adam had two sons: Cain and Abel. Both handsome and strong, like their father. Adam was very proud of them and loved them.
Abel helped his father, dealing with relations within their tribe: he was an assistant judge, lawyer, and prosecutor all in one. As well as a detective, and he made sure that none of the people died of hunger, cold, or disease.
Cain, on the other hand, was involved in hunting and gathering. He divided people into groups, came up with tactics against dangerous beasts, guarded the gatherers, and so on.
Both his sons were respected, but Cain's actions seemed more significant to people. One only dealt with violators and maintained order, while the other procured food, protected the tribe, and ensured its survival. It's no wonder Abel was treated with much less reverence.
Nevertheless, years passed, and the number of people grew like on yeast. Adam's authority grew stronger every day, and his patience – weaker. He was tired of the laws he had established continuing to be broken, and with frightening audacity. In the end, he was forced to resort to extreme measures: murderers who transgressed the prohibition twice were deprived of their lives.
When Adam turned 79, he remained just as robust a man. It seemed he could easily live another seventy-nine years. After all, if you removed the wrinkles and beard, he looked almost the same as on the day of his appearance.
But one day, something happened to Cain.
One "fine" day, Adam was informed that his son had led a group of hunters and warriors to overthrow him and take power over the settlement. Of course, Adam didn't believe it – and that was his main mistake.
Cain challenged his father to a fight for the right to rule the people. He declared that he was tired of standing in his shadow and was finally ready to take what was rightfully his.
Flashback
When Cain challenged his father to a fight, Adam couldn't believe his betrayal for a long time. He looked at his son, tall, strong, self-assured – and didn't see in him the boy he once rocked in his arms. But there was nothing to be done. The people had gathered, expecting a spectacle, and declining the challenge would mean losing respect, and besides, many warriors were on Cain's side.
They stood opposite each other, amidst a resonant silence. Around them – a ring of spectators, the fire of torches casting trembling shadows on people's faces. Adam crossed his arms over his chest, sighed heavily.
"Do you realize what you're doing?" he asked, but there was no longer hope in his voice.
Cain didn't answer. He lunged forward like an enraged beast, aiming his fist straight at his father's face. Adam nimbly dodged but didn't retaliate – merely intercepted his son's wrist, directing his force past himself.
Cain stepped back, jerked free, then struck again – this time with a kick to the side. The blow was powerful, but Adam stood like a rock, only swaying slightly. He was older, but the years hadn't made him weak. In response, he delivered a sharp counter-punch to the solar plexus, forcing Cain to double over.
"You're behaving like a foolish youngster," he said, stepping back. "Get a grip."
But Cain no longer heard anything. His eyes burned with determination. He leaped forward, swinging his fists, each blow filled with years of accumulated fury. Adam deftly sidestepped, intercepted blows, but finally, Cain managed to clip him – knuckles slammed into his father's cheekbone, cutting the skin. A thin trickle of blood flowed from the wound.
It was the first time anyone had drawn Adam's blood.
Someone in the crowd gasped. But Adam didn't flinch. He grabbed Cain by the shoulder, and with a deft movement, threw him over himself. His son crashed to the ground but immediately sprang up.
"Enough, Cain! You won't win!" Adam raised his hand, offering to end it.
Cain roared with fury, but a strange expression appeared on his face. He stepped forward, dropped to one knee, and extended his hand to his father:
"You're right…" he exhaled. "Forgive me. I was blinded."
Adam felt a sense of relief. His son had realized his mistake!
He reached out his hand in return, but in that same instant, Cain jerked, and a sharp pain pierced his chest. Adam looked down. A knife was sticking out of his heart.
Scenes from the past flashed in Adam's mind. He couldn't comprehend the betrayal, couldn't believe his son had committed such a vile act. Images of happy days flickered in his mind – Cain as a child, their family laughing together, how he had cared for him…
A Glimpse into the Past
Little Cain ran home, breathing heavily, tear tracks glistening on his cheeks. Adam saw him from afar and rushed to meet him.
"What happened?" he asked worriedly, kneeling before his son.
Cain sobbed and held out his hand, on which there was a scratch.
"A dog bit me… I just wanted to pet it, and it suddenly…" the boy sobbed again, swallowing tears.
Eve came out of the house, from which little Abel was peeking, having heard their conversation, and stroked her son's head.
"He didn't do it because he's mean, Cain," she said softly. "He was scared. He didn't know what you wanted from him, so he defended himself."
"But I didn't want to hurt him!" the boy protested.
"He didn't know that," Adam smiled, wiping his son's tears. "Trust must be earned. Try spending time with him, show him you're not a threat."
The next day, Cain returned to the same spot where the dog had bitten him the day before. This time he sat nearby, making no sudden movements, just watching. Several hours passed before the dog stopped growling. Another day later, it allowed Cain to extend his hand. And a week later, they were running through the meadow together, like best friends.
In the final seconds of his life, looking into his son's treacherous eyes, Adam remembered that moment.
Once, he had explained to Cain that fear makes creatures cruel.
But perhaps, back then, he hadn't understood the most important thing: fear could make a human cruel too.
End Flashback
Reading Adam's story and sipping the aromatic, albeit rather ordinary, tea, I felt myself literally immersing in his past. Every word I read resonated within me with a strange echo, as if I wasn't just reading, but remembering something of my own, forgotten, yet painfully familiar. It was frightening. Why wasn't the effect so strong the first time?
Unconsciously, I ran a hand over my cheek and was surprised to find moisture. Tears. From where? I wasn't crying. I didn't want to cry. But damn it, what Adam had to endure... How much shit had fallen on his head. And Eve must have already eaten the fruit of knowledge by then, so why didn't she transform immediately? Could it be that the Darkness within her decided to hide for a while, waiting for the opportune moment to transform into a giant tentacled monster?
Removing the mask for a moment, I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to gather my thoughts. Who could even allow such a thing? What kind of morons hold the post of Seraphim if something like this was happening in their world? Their children kill each other, rape, betray, and they just sit on their clouds and look down, not interfering. Why? What the hell?! Aren't they the ones who should protect people, guide them, lead them to the light?
I gritted my teeth from a dull irritation that was slowly but surely growing into anger. What fucking horror is going on in their heads if they allow humanity to roll into fucking hell? If they allowed the first man, their beloved creation, to suffer as he suffered? Why was he forced to watch his own children turn into beasts, as each new day brought more pain and disappointment? He was the first man, after all, and therefore the loneliest.
I abruptly took a large gulp of wine, feeling the warm bitterness spread down my throat, then leaned back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Adam's story… damn interesting. But not because of the author's talent. Rather the opposite – the author wrote dryly, thanks to this shitty Wikipedia, without much style, just facts, dates, events. And yet, this story gripped me like no other. Because as I read, images flickered in my head. Memories that couldn't possibly be. As if it were about me. As if I knew these events from the inside. But I didn't feel like that Adam.
Damn, maybe I should just get some sleep? I closed my eyes, inhaling the sweetish aroma of wine mixed with the slight bitterness of tea. Or not. Better to finish reading. I wonder what happened to Abel?
Of course, I'm no expert on religion, but I remember that in our world, everything was different. Cain didn't kill Adam. He killed Abel. Out of envy. But it seems that here the story was completely different, even in such details.
I returned my gaze to the Wikipedia page. I need to continue reading.