[ WP ] Every sentient species in the universe receives a Jesus figure from God . It turns out humanity was the only species to torture and crucify him . You 're an ambassador priest informing the Inter-Galactic Holy Church what your species did .

`` Truly,'' Patriarch Constantine spoke, his eyes shining brightly amidst the wrinkles of his face, `` this is cause for celebration.'' His hand swept across the synod of the Inter-Galactic Holy Church, representatives from thirty-three different species gathered to welcome him. A constant stream of information, pop-up notes, was filtering through his Xenolalia display, translating movements, chemical emissions, energy signatures, into comprehensible communication. The synod had yet to formally respond, and yet Xenolalia was lighting up with the unspoken language of disaffection, coldness, disdain. For a moment, High Patriarch Constantine XXIII, the supreme spiritual leader of humanity, felt a twinge of doubt. Then he pushed it aside and continued. 
 
 `` So different are we,'' he said, his voice ringing throughout the church, `` from myriad different races. And yet! Among all of us, a single universal truth. God, incarnated as one of us, truly god and truly man - ah, forgive me,'' he said, smiling beatifically. `` What is the word you use to refer to yourselves as a whole, as the united sentient races of the galaxy?'' 
 
 ``'Person' will suffice,'' a representative from one of the mantid races said. There was an imperceptible motion of its head. *Predatory, * Xenolalia noted, *Seeking out weakness. * Constantine met its gaze, and it continued crouching unpeturbed, satisfied with its single phrase. Throughout the synod, there was the oppressive response of silence. 
 
 `` Ah, yes,'' Constantine said, feeling a small trickle of sweat down his temple. He wondered what their own translation devices were reading from him. `` God incarnated in the person of Christ, savior and redeemer of mankind.'' He paused after the last word, let his mouth hang open, tasting it. He continued, barrelling on. `` Though we never doubted in our faith, it is, nonetheless, gratifying to see that this truth is truly universal, and that the other heretical religions are now forced to recognize their error.'' 
 
 `` A. Considerable. Difference. However,'' said the Oort representative body, its cloud-like form contracting into a tightly-packed sphere. `` You. Killed. Christ.'' 
 
 *Hostile*, Xenolalia said, its little notes popping up by each synod representative. *Hostile. Hostile. Fearful. Hostile. Readying attack. * Patriarch Constantine made an involuntary step backward, his throat dry. He was two hundred and six years old, and for a moment truly felt the weight of his years, the points of degradation that technology had not been able to fully stem. Cowardice, he chastised himself. He was secure in his faith. The theology was sound. Surely, these fellow believers would eventually recognize that. 
 
 `` I am aware,'' he said, projecting his voice. `` I have read your gospels. Among all your species, each time, your...'Christ-figures', let us call them, have avoided death.'' He pointed out the individual species, following Xenolalia's prompts. `` Ascended into Heaven. Reabsorbed into the Great Cloud. Transcended into a higher form of energy. Moved on into another brane of existence. Again, and again, and again, our Lord has appeared before you, incarnated before you to spread His word, and ultimately returned from whence He came. For every race in this galaxy. Except for us.'' 
 
 Constantine found himself returning to the old rhythm, his words finding the power and majesty of some his finest sermons. `` For us, Christ died! For us, Christ served as sacrifice! For humanity alone, Christ fulfilled His divine role!'' *Fearful. Fearful. Fearful. Fearful, * Xenolalia sang, its chorus lending such sweetness to his words. `` Among all intelligent life in the galaxy, humans alone were worthy of redemption!'' 
 
 The Inter-Galactic Holy Church shook with the impact of the shaped charges detonating, walls crumbling inwards to the harsh glare of spotlights. The Archons, hulking brutes in their powered armor, rushed in, boltguns raised to the shrieks and chitters and expulsions of enzymes of the panicked synod. Patriarch Constantine's ears rang with the sound of gunfire. The air was hot with plasma. Xenolalia ceased attempting to translate the chaos, and instead flashed a single vivid word: *Heresy. * 
 
 `` How fortunate you are,'' High Patriarch Constantine XXIII spoke, even as an Archon knelt at his feet and began his report, even as the Crusade continued before him. `` An entire galaxy living in error, believing such heresy. And from a single humble planet amidst the cosmos, the humble race of humanity, comes your Revelation!''
