When Adam understood that his own transgression had drawn death into every future generation, he did not try to defend himself. He mourned.
He fasted for one hundred and thirty years. He abstained from his wife, Eve, for that same span. He wrapped girdles of fig leaves around his loins and wore them as a sign of penance. He lived those decades under divine displeasure, in a silent, reproachful communion with the consequences he had caused.
But even repentant Adam was not solitary. During those years — the sages teach in Eruvin 18b — he begat other offspring. Not human ones. Demons, shedim, spectres, and creatures of half-sleep. The children of a man estranged from his intended partner came forth as the broken echoes of a broken time.
The scripture, the Rabbis argue, records this carefully. Adam lived a hundred and thirty years, and begat in his own likeness, after his image (Genesis 5:3). Why does the Torah specify "in his own likeness" only here, only at the end of those 130 years? Because only then did his children resemble him again. Only after the fast closed was Seth born, a son in Adam's image — the repaired image, restored through grief.
Eden could not be undone. But a man's children can still come out resembling him, if he mourns long enough to come back to himself.