Agthalan merely observed Homura's proclamation with an amused smile, before getting up and making his way over to the door himself. It was high time they left after all, as the IRS would show up here eventually, and he'd rather be scarce when they did. Along the way, however, he bumped into another patron - seemingly on accident - causing her to spill her drink on the man next to her who, in his shock and haste to at least try and get out of the way, tipped over a pepper shaker. Spilling out onto the countertop, the blackish-gray powder was then ferried by the force of Agthalan's passing straight to the nose of the one who had called his order obsessed opposite a brat, which naturally contracted as all noses do when confronted with such irritants. Rearing back, the fool let out a downright monstrous sneeze, then another and yet another still, until he was, at length, forced to leave the diner in his futile search for relief.

Pausing for a moment as he reached out for the handle with grasping, insectile fingers, the king in crimson turned to regard Homura from over his shoulder.

"The only one who gets to torment you is me," he said, his expression and tone alike becoming almost deathly serious. And just like that, he was gone, having stepped into the hot midday sun - yet still the twisted sentiment remained. From here he would make his way to the RV and his fellow gods, fumbling with some keys that hadn't been in his hands a second ago as he did so.

"Here," Agthalan said as he approached Ki'ryah and Qhiuleri. "You can hardly be expected to drive without a running engine!"

With that he proffered the ring of keys to the goddess of light.