Scene Nine: Human Error — The Gospel of HailLion

“Every flame starts with friction.”

Setting: A place between worlds — a cave, or perhaps the echo of one. The air ripples with unseen heat. Flickers of flame crawl across the walls like living veins. We see the faint outline of HailLion — neither beast nor man, his form sculpted by light and shadow. He stands before a fire that burns without consuming. The flames whisper faces: Eve, Adam, Cain, Abel. All the beginnings — all the endings.

He is not mourning. He is remembering.

As the audience listens, the rhythm builds like a ritual. Each verse feels older than time, as though this was not being sung, but remembered — from Eden, from blood, from every rebellion since.

The Song: Human Error

▶️ Listen on Suno

[Rebellious Musical Intro – low growl under firelight]
ok…
they said the first sin was the bite.
but maybe the first lie was calling it — sin.
this ain’t rebellion — it’s recognition.
this ain’t a fall — it’s friction.
today’s scripture? unwritten.
today’s sermon? it’s got TEETH!
flip to Genesis — but don’t read —
remember.
the tree didn’t curse us.
it woke us.

[Verse 1 – shadowed tone, hypnotic rhythm]
we walked that garden barefoot, bold,
truth on tongue, no fear of old.
they said “don’t see, don’t taste, don’t know,”
but light don’t hide — it only grow.
I whispered choice — they called it sin,
yet through that bite, the world begin.
I didn’t tempt — I gave them sight,
to walk from dark into delight.
you call that curse? I call it art.
obedience kills the rebel heart.

[Hook 1 – chant-like, crowd echo “Human Error”]
Call it Human Error — I call it spark.
They feared the truth, so they sealed the dark.
Told us “fall” when we rose upright.
Told us “wrong” when we reached for light.
If wisdom burns, then let it blaze.
I’ll walk through fire, unashamed.
Human Error? that’s their word.
I call it freedom — undeterred.

[Verse 2 – more intimate, almost seductive tone]
They dressed them in shame like crowns of gold,
called chains divine, called silence bold.
I saw the tremble — not from fear, but thrill,
the taste of knowing… the bite of will.
No wrath came down — just bones and skulls cracked,
and truth slipped through the curse they backed.
They wrote “betrayal” where freedom bled,
and worshiped cages in Eden’s stead.
I taught them voice — to curse, to crave,
to name their gods and still misbehave.
They learned to burn what couldn’t be banned,
and forged their faith with their own hand.

[Hook 2 – rising tribal drums]
Call it Human Error — I call it rise.
You call it wrong, I call it wise.
They want silence — I bring fire.
I free the will their fear requires.
Original sin? No — original will.
And I still whisper through them still.

[Bridge – slow, echoing over drum heartbeat]
He saw the blood — I saw the spark.
They’ll call it evil, I call it mark.
The ground still drinks, the sky still sighs,
but in his eyes… man finally rise.
He heard my word — though none could speak,
He reached beyond what gods could reach.
No sin in that — no loss, no shame.
Only the blood — calling my name.
[low whisper]
Abel fell… but the flame remained.
And through that fire — my creed proclaimed.

[Final Chorus – full instrumentation, regal and terrifyingly calm]
Call it Human Error — I call it birth.
The first to bleed now crowns the earth.
Not broken — just begun.
Not cursed — just one.
The beast they feared — the son they made,
Both walk the world unafraid.
You fear the fire — I call it grace.
The mark of Cain… my holy face.

[Outro – whisper through smoke, distant drum fade]
Let them mourn. Let them pray.
I was here… and walked away.
Fire ah come — not to burn,
Only to teach what hearts must learn.

Scene Narrative

As the song fades, the flames on stage pulse with red and gold. They seem to form shapes — wings, eyes, the outline of a lion’s face. The audience realizes this is the same fire that once burned in Cain’s chest — and in every act of defiance since.

HailLion steps into the glow, half illuminated, half shadow. The mark of Cain burns across the rock behind him like a prophecy written in ash. The music fades to a heartbeat. He looks toward the audience and smiles.

“The garden never closed,” he says quietly. “It just changed its name.”

Written for The First Fall — A Jack Righteous Musical Chronicle