“Congratulations. The heart of a sinner and the brain of a dead man. You are worthless. We have tracked your cohorts through you and they stand now as you are, waiting to be executed. Let me remind you that we will eradicate your kind. History has been traveling to this climax forever, but unlike in reality, it will never stop, because we control reality. You are powerless in the world where we are the ones who determine the very definition of power.”

                           “You attempt to destroy man. You will leave the body and extract the soul, and burn it to pieces. You will blame it on old good and make for yourself a new good, only defined by you. Therefore you are wrong. You may be able to suck the very life out of the people, and after dedication, maybe even their emotions. I guarantee, however, that the one thing you cannot do is destroy the matter of man, the very essence, the things that make man who he is. That, in itself, is why your power is not absolute. Someday, the people will rebel and they will learn what it means to be true men again. Then you will see-”

                           But he never finished his sentence. The man across the table pulled out his pistol and fire two quick shots into the prisoner’s leg. As he gasped in pain, the man whispered full of vehemence, “What you say is not true, mostly because we will find a way to destroy everything that you would define manhood by, and secondly because we, like I previously said, control reality. We will tell people the err of their ways when this rebellion springs up, and they will believe us. They have no choice, for they don’t know the difference between their choices. You, on the other hand, are the last one to ever have that privilege, and look at what a horrible price it comes by.” The man pointed the gun at the prisoner’s head, and unleashed a devastating roar of bullets. Blood poured out of the cracked skull. The man pocketed his revolver and slowly walked out the door.