The Truth was bored.

He had been sent from on high to speak to a number of inferior beings, all because he had done the cosmic equivalent of drawing the short stick. They had burst into tears upon realizing he was not a god, had sobbed when he revealed there was no particularly empathetic reason he and his compatriots had helped humanity, and were devastated when The Truth had told that simplest of facts; that all things were matter, that all things rot and that all things perish. It was all so . . . annoying, really; one had tried to attack him rather than rationalize that a body and brain of flesh, of the world, obviously is a part of said world. It was also funny, in its own twisted way; The Truth had seen some of the cultures that mankind had produced, and they themselves had already stumbled on this fact. Why these human representatives were suddenly bemoaning their existence was absurd.

Perhaps now was the time to leave. . .

And in a million universes, that is exactly what happened.

In this one, however, there was a bit of a hiccup.

"Here, hold onto this shit. Doesn't even work anymore, anyway," one of the camera-men murmured to a human compatriot, even as he hoisted the twisted metallic lump upon his fellow. The Truth glanced at the man (or was it a female? This species had some of the strangest differences in sex The Truth had ever seen) for perhaps a moment, before deducing that said figure was hardly a threat; it bore no suit, no gun, no blade.

"You dragged us all here to basically shit all over our cultures, to talk about how there wasn't much of a difference between us and fucking ants, about how man was no different from sludge and shit," the lesser being said to the Truth.

"That is how things are," The Truth replied, flatly. It was, of course, the truth; not once had The Truth lied, except perhaps in omission.

"So, what's the difference between us and you?" the lesser being asked.

And a hundred sets of eyes, some still weeping, locked onto The Truth nigh simultaneously.

"Power," The Truth replied; despite itself, there had been something somewhat disturbing with the humans at that moment.

"You don't say," the human said, slowly. The Truth saw a thousand thousand little flickers of light within the human's brain fire off within a second, even as the camera-man's lip curled upwards and the human asked, "So, basically, we're all matter, except for the part where a bit of our matter literally breaks the physical laws of the universe and gets reincarnated as another human being, right? And we're basically the same as you lot, except we don't have power, yes?"

"That is how things are," The Truth replied; slowly, over the last few moments, The Truth had become overwhelmed with the feeling that, perhaps, departure should've occurred about five minutes ago.

"It's funny how power changes so rapidly," the human murmured, almost to himself, before looking up at The Truth with what could only be seen as a grin. "Keep a seat for one of my descendants; the stars must look beautiful from where you are."

"That concludes this discussion. From this point forward, we will no longer interfere with earthling affairs," The Truth said, voice as flat as always, but suddenly a great deal more uneasy. There hadn't been even a hint of violence from the human being; if there had, destruction would've been a viable option. Nevertheless, something wasn't how it should've been.

"See you soon," the earthling replied, waving.