The apple hit him hard enough to kill him.
Unfortunately, death didn't exist yet.
Evan opened his eyes with a sharp inhale, lungs burning as if reality itself had rejected him. Above him, branches sagged under the weight of crimson fruit, sunlight spilling through unfamiliar skies.
For a moment, he didn't move.
He listened.
Wind. Birds. Leaves.
Too peaceful.
Then memory returned—and with it, understanding.
Reincarnation.
Most people woke in another world and struggled upward. They built power, gathered allies, survived long enough to matter.
Sometimes fate skipped the effort and handed you greatness.
And sometimes—
fate made a catastrophic mistake.
Evan slowly looked down at himself.
Naked.
Two oversized banana leaves were awkwardly tied around his waist.
An apple rested in his hand.
Realization settled in.
"...You've got to be kidding me."
He bit into the fruit anyway.
Sweet. Crisp.
Illegal.
The forest reacted subtly.
A squirrel approached without fear, brushing casually against his ankle before scampering away.
No instinct.No caution.
Nothing here feared him.
That was wrong.
Because this place had a name.
Eden.
Humanity's perfect beginning.
To Evan, it felt like containment.
No tools.No shelter.No civilization.
No death.
Immortality without choice.
A prison disguised as paradise.
His jaw tightened.
"So this is my reward?"
The air split open.
Light descended—not gently, but violently, tearing through the sky like reality correcting itself.
Birdsong stopped mid-note.
Leaves froze in motion.
Even the wind seemed to hesitate.
An old man stepped forward from the light.
White robes. White beard. White hair.
Authority radiated from him—not warmth, but inevitability.
God.
Adam didn't stand.
Didn't kneel.
He casually flicked a strip of apple peel onto the glowing ground.
"You're late."
Silence fell heavier than gravity.
"You should not be here," God said.
"That makes two of us."
Pressure descended instantly.
Invisible force crushed against Adam's lungs. The world itself rejected his existence. Every instinct screamed submission.
He stayed seated.
Immortality meant pain still worked.
Good to know.
"You are not Adam," God said slowly.
Adam exhaled through the pressure and smirked.
"Your future self disagrees."
He took another bite.
"This reincarnation deal?" he added."This isn't it."
For the first time—
God hesitated.
Balance shifted.
Today was meant to be simple. Creation. Observation. Order.
Instead, disorder had already begun eating forbidden fruit.
"This world is not meant for someone like you."
Adam shrugged slightly.
"Then update it."
Silence stretched.
God vanished.
Adam looked up.
"Hey," he called lazily. "We're not done negotiating."
Peace returned.
Mockingly perfect.
Hunger followed soon after.
Adam stared at the animals wandering freely through Eden.
A thought formed.
Predation.
He snapped a branch from the tree.
The sound echoed unnaturally loud.
Somewhere deep within Eden—
something changed.
An hour later, a crude spear rested in his hands.
Another hour passed.
A deer lay bound in vines, a wooden shaft piercing its body.
Alive.
Unable to die.
Adam studied it calmly.
"So death really isn't installed yet."
Efficient system.
He knelt and began rubbing sticks together.
Light tore open the sky again.
"What are you doing?" God demanded.
"Progress."
Smoke curled upward.
"You harmed another creature."
"I secured food," Adam replied. "Unless omnipotence includes meal delivery."
The pressure returned—stronger this time.
Flames sparked anyway.
Fire ignited.
The first fire in human history.
God stared at it.
Unsettled.
Adam leaned back beneath the tree later that night, warmth reflecting in his eyes.
Nearby, the wounded deer still breathed.
"This won't stop," Adam said quietly.
"I don't wait for permission."
God watched him for a long time.
Then disappeared once more.
Adam laughed softly.
History had just broken schedule.
Whoever Eve was supposed to be—
she would arrive in a different world.
By morning, stone tools lay sharpened beside him.
God appeared again, silent this time.
Adam handed one over.
"A tool," he said."Simple."
God tried it.
The edge formed perfectly.
Adam took it back.
"See the problem?"
He looked toward the burning embers.
"Once humans start improving things..."
He smiled.
"...paradise becomes obsolete."
Somewhere beyond heaven itself—
something ancient understood.
Humanity had committed its first crime.
And it would not be the last.
History did not begin that day.
It accelerated.