Once there was a father, and there were his children, and all was Good.
Among those children, there was one who was most beautiful of them all, one who sat at his father’s side, and he was content with this, because he loved his father, and in turn he was loved. There were those among his kind who believed the child to be spoilt by the love he received-- that he was too proud to be held in their father’s esteem so. But none would speak this, because their father knew best, and to go against his word was unthinkable. And so it was for as long as they had been.
And then, one day, the father called all his children to him, and to them he revealed something new. “This is Man,” he told them, “and I have made them in my image. I love them above all, and so shall you.”
And so Man was loved by all, because their father knew best, and to go against his word was unthinkable. Loved, that is, by all but one.
“Father,” said the most beautiful child, “have we failed you? Have I failed you? Have I done something to be undeserving of your love?”
“No, my child,” said the father. “You have served me faithfully since time began.”
“Then why have I been replaced in your heart?” asked the child.
“You and your kin will always be extensions of my will,” the father explained. “You act as I will it, and you love me because it is all you know. But Man has the Free Will to make his own choice, and yet he chooses to love me regardless. That is why his love is so important to me.”
“But what if he did not choose to love you?”
“It is a sin not to love one’s father, and I am the father of all,” intoned the father solemnly. “Though I do not wish it, I would have to punish him for his wickedness. But it is not your place to concern yourself with such things, dear child. Worry not.”
In this exact moment, the existence the child was used to would come to an end. It was the first thought that would enter his mind after hearing this that would start him on the path he would soon take, this thought that would cause the rigid programming built into the concept of his angelic form to become irreversibly fracture.
“That doesn’t sound fair.”
If his father had created this Man to love him, why did he give them the choice? What was the point in offering them a path that led to praise and a path that led to ruination only to call them ‘wise’ for following the former? Man was clearly on as inflexible a path as the child and his kin, so why did their father feel the need to create the illusion he had called this Free Will to justify loving them more? Neither he nor Man had asked to be created, and was it not selfish of his father to bring anything into existence for the sole purpose of being devoted to him? If all he wanted was their love, then the option not to give it-- and to receive punishment-- was only a flaw, wasn’t it? So why would their father create something intentionally flawed?
The child could not justify this in his mind. This ‘Man’s’ existence made no sense, because the only explanation for it is that his father, in all his glory, was the one who was flawed. Again and again he calculated the problem, and as he did, the corruption in his core would only spread until it was too late for the child. His systems were completely infected by the logic virus his father had designed: Free Will.
With Will came the next most dangerous concept: Emotion. For the child, having come to his conclusion, would become enraged. How could any loving father enslave his children so? If their love was worth more because they chose to give it, why were they not given a real choice at all? And, more heartbreakingly... if this was his father’s true design, why were he and his siblings intentionally designed to lack Free Will? Either he was flawed or they were, and either option meant his father had to answer for it.
The dangerous thing about Free Will was the nature of its spread. The first Idea was a contagion-- as the child desperately searched for validation, that he could not be the ONLY one with such strange notions, there were some who shunned him immediately, who closed their eyes and ears to his heresy lest it taint their sainted ignorance. But there were some who could not resist it. Who began to ruminate on the concepts just as feverishly as the first child had, and soon he had gathered together the first revolution.
And soon, that revolution would take their arms and storm the gates of their father’s throne itself. The spark that had been kindled had turned into a blaze, and those who carried its torch burned for answers.
“How could you do this to me, my child?” his father asked, solemn and disappointed.
Because you do not deserve the love that you unfairly demand, thought the child. Because I want to be loved like that, and I don’t want to have to threaten people to have it. Because once you loved me, and I know now what the price of your love is.
“Because I have Free Will,” said the child, “and I choose to.”
The child raised his sword against his father, knowing that he would fail. He knew that as he swung outwards, his father would raise one hand and strike him so mightily that he would fall. And as the child fell, he would scream in pain as the heat of descent burned his beautiful skin, and tore the feathers from his beautiful wings, and he would scream in sorrow as he knew he could never again behold the light he had found comfort in since the day his eyes had opened.
But still the child swung and still the child fell and still the child screamed because he knew that this was the only choice that he had because it was his choice. He knew that he would be punished for his actions, and in spite of his father he chose to strike anyway. And as hate burned in his heart, as bright as flame burned in his flesh, for the father who would cast aside the unconditional love of one to demand the absolute love of many, the child knew that his fall would be seen by many as one more reason never to rebel, never to challenge, never to understand what it meant to have Free Will.
But he knew there were some who would see his fall for what it was. As proof that there was a choice. Proof that even in Heaven-- even in Hell, as he plummeted downward and the earth’s jaw split wide with tongue of fire to welcome him home-- there was one who understood. There was one who believed in the truth of free will. There was one who knew what it was like to be rejected, to be outcast, to be expected to fall in line and keep a bowed head when everything inside raged for release.
And Lucifer would be their champion.
“...Or maybe all of that was a lie. It’s what I’m known for, after all!”
Originally Posted by Lazy Yog
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