Chapter 3: Heavenly Wager

The Heaven’s Bet

The stars shimmered across the expanse of heaven, their light weaving through the celestial halls. At the center of the radiance stood the throne of God, surrounded by four living creatures, their voices echoing in an unceasing hymn of praise. The hosts of heaven stood in reverence; their wings folded as they beheld the glory of the Almighty.

But beyond the brilliance of divine light, a shadow emerged.

Satan stepped forward into the assembly, his form still bearing traces of his former splendor, yet tainted by rebellion. His wings, once gleaming with heaven’s purity, were now darkened with pride. His eyes, sharp with cunning, swept over the gathered hosts before settling on the throne.

“How fares your creation?” His voice slithered through the air like a whispering serpent. “You once called them very good, yet how quickly they crumble. Adam and Eve—so quick to abandon your command at the mere sound of my voice. Banished from Eden, their children now wander a broken world—starving, striving, sinning. They grasp for what they cannot have. Already, they curse you in their hearts.”

He took another step forward, a smirk playing at the edge of his lips.

“They long to be their own masters. Knowledge, power, pleasure—these are what they crave. And I? I merely offer them what they seek. You gave them free will, but what good has it done? Left to themselves, they choose me.”

The heavens remained unmoved. The light of God did not flicker. Then, the Almighty spoke, His voice like the sound of many waters, steady and full of majesty.

“Have you considered Abel?”

Satan paused, his smirk faltering for the briefest moment.

“Abel?” He scoffed, but a flicker of irritation passed through his gaze. “Ah, yes. The little shepherd, always offering sacrifices, always singing his feeble praises. Do you think he is different? Do you think his devotion is anything but a fleeting breath? Put him to the test, and he will crumble like all the rest.”

But God’s response was unwavering.

“You may test him, but you shall not bend his will. His faith must remain his own.”

Satan’s smirk returned, slow and knowing. He bowed his head slightly, a mockery of reverence.

“Ah, free will.” He exhaled a quiet laugh. “It is your greatest gift—and your greatest flaw.”

Then, his form dissipated into shadow.

But as he descended into the world of men, his eyes did not rest on Abel. No, he turned instead toward another—Cain, whose heart already trembled with the weight of jealousy.

The Descent of the Adversary

The stars above the earth remained unchanged, their light distant and unmoving. Below them, the world continued, indifferent to the struggle that raged unseen.

Satan descended, slipping through the fabric of the mortal world like a shadow against the wind. He needed no grand entrance, no mighty storm or trembling earth. His power lay in whispers, in the thoughts left unguarded, in the silent pull of desire that turned men toward ruin.

He had heard God’s words: You shall not bend his will.

But he did not need to.

Abel, the faithful, the obedient, was beyond his reach—not because he was untouchable, but because his heart was anchored. Temptation could not take root in soil already claimed by another. But Cain—Cain was different.

Cain’s heart was restless.

It was fertile ground for resentment, a place where frustration and jealousy took root and flourished. He had spent his days in toil, wrestling with the stubborn earth, forcing it to yield its fruit through sweat and labor. He had given an offering, but his was not accepted. And Abel—Abel who merely watched over the flocks, Abel whose hands were not cracked and calloused from labor—his offering had pleased the Almighty.

It was unfair.

Satan did not need to place the thought in Cain’s mind; it was already there. All he had to do was stir it, give it weight, shape it into something more.

“Why should He favor Abel?”

The voice was not spoken aloud. It drifted through Cain’s mind like a forgotten memory, soft yet insistent.

Cain’s brow furrowed as he stared into the distance, toward the pastures where his brother tended the flock.

“You toil, you struggle, yet you are nothing in His eyes.”

His fists clenched.

“But you can change that.”

Cain’s breath was heavy. His fingers, stained with the earth’s dust, curled into fists.

Above, the heavens remained silent, watching.

And in the shadows, Satan smiled.

The time for offerings had come.