Read the following passage and questions, then choose the right answer from options, the answer should be one of A, B, C, D.

<passage>:
Warrior of Two Worlds By MANLY WADE WELLMAN He was the man of two planets, drawn through the blackness of space to save a nation from ruthless invaders. He was Yandro, the Stranger of the Prophecy—and he found that he was destined to fight both sides. insistent but not cold, upon my naked skin. Closing my hands, I felt birth. One face of Dondromogon ever looks to the light and heat, and drawn roughly erect. The touch restored my senses, and I wrenched called Dondromogon, what manner of intelligent life bade defiance to back to a solid wall. My first glance showed me that my companions were creatures like myself—two-legged, fair-skinned men, shorter and slighter than I, but With such arms I had a faint sense of familiarity. "Who are you, and where are you from?" said one of the two, a broad-faced middle-aged fellow. "Don't lie any more than you can help." "There's a bigger reward for capture than for warning," objected his friend in turn, "and whoever comes to take this man will claim studied me apprehensively. "He's big, and looks strong, even without had first spoken. Then, to his comrade: "No reward, then." "I think there'll be a reward," was the rejoinder, and the second man's His thumb touched a button at the pommel of the hilt. The dull blade suddenly glowed like heated iron, and from it crackled and pulsed little rainbow rays. There was no time to think or plan or ponder. I moved in, with a its owner's unprotected face. The other had drawn a weapon of his own, a pistol-form arrangement. seemed plastic in form, but hardened so quickly upon contact with the dignity to her costume, and plainly she was someone of position, for both the men stiffened to attention. "A spy," one ventured. "He pushed in, claimed he was no enemy, then in richly-embossed armor platings sat there. He had a fringe of pale beard, and his eyes were bluer than the gentlewoman Doriza's. She made a gesture of salute, hand at shoulder height, and reported the matter. He nodded for her to fall back to a corner. "Stranger," he said to me, "can you think of no better tale to tell than you now offer?" probably can tell what happened to put me in such a condition." received an order, and vanished again. In a few moments two other men came—one a heavily armed officer of rank, the other an elderly, bearded fellow in a voluminous robe that enfolded him in most dignified manner. This latter man opened wide his clear old eyes at sight of me. "The stranger of the prophecy!" he cried, in a voice that made us all jump. The officer rose from behind the table. "Are you totally mad, Sporr? strength that you lose touch with the spiritual—" He broke off, and wheeled on the attendant who had led him in. "To my and bowed toward me. "Surely you are Yandro, the Conquering Stranger," he said, intoning as if in formal prayer. "Pardon these short-sighted ones—deign to save us from our enemies—" to come with no memory of anything," supplied the officer. "Score one snatched it, and turned to a brightly colored picture. He looked once, his beard gaped, and he dropped to his knees. "Happy, happy the day," he jabbered, "that I was spared to see our great champion come among us in the flesh, as was foretold of ancient time by the First Comers!" prove it. The prophecy even sketches a thumb-print—" And he held the It contained a full-page likeness, in color, of myself wrapped in a one side a thumb-print, or a drawing of one, in black. real man—" "That could be plastic surgery," rejoined the officer. "Such things are artfully done by the Newcomers, and the red mantle he wears more easily assumed." because he was naked, and not for any treasonable masquerade. But the thumb-print—" "Oh, yes, the thumb-print," I repeated wearily. "By all means, study my thumbs, if you'll first take these bonds off of me." "Thumb-prints?" I offered. Sporr had produced something else, a little vial of dark pigment. He carefully anointed one of my thumbs, and pressed it to the page. All worshipped." II They rose, but stood off respectfully. The officer spoke first. "I am respect. "Sporr is a mystic doctor, full of godly wisdom. Doriza, a junior officer and chief of the guard. And you—how could you know?—are sent by the First Comers to save us from our enemies." "I have arranged for that," Sporr began, then fell silent, fingers combing his beard in embarrassment. and tasting of spice, and a tumbler of pink juice. I felt refreshed and satisfied, and thanked Sporr, who led me on to the next room. "Behold!" he said, with a dramatic gesture. "Your garments, even as they have been preserved against your coming!" serviceable. I studied their type, and my hands, if not my mind, seemed body for the first time—towered rather bluffly, with great breadth of chest and shoulder, and legs robust enough to carry such bulk. The face was square but haggard, as if from some toil or pain which was now All told, I looked like a proper person for physical labor, or even Sporr was waiting in the room where I had eaten. His eyes widened at sight of me, something like a grin of triumph flashed through his beard. Then he bowed, supple and humble, his palms together. "It is indeed Yandro, our great chief," he mumbled. Then he turned and crossed the room. A sort of mouthpiece sprouted from the wall. that I was fated to live when he returned for the rescue of all of Dondromogon's sunlit face is ever rising, and the cold air from you call the Newcomers dwell and fight," I reminded. "Is it also windswept? Why can two people not join forces and face toil and nature were all men but two, and wore robes of black, plum-purple or red. At sight of me, they rose together, most respectfully. They looked at me, and I looked at them. My first thought was, that if these were people of authority and trust My mind flew back to the two scrubby, venial guardsmen who had first welcomed me to stuffy Rohbar, the commander to Sporr, spry and clever " They all spoke the name in chorus, and bowed toward me. He was the greedy-faced man, short but plump, and very conscious of the dignified folds of his purple robe. One carefully-tended hand brushed back his ginger-brown hair, then toyed with a little moustache. return presaged of old by those who could see the future, and more recently by the death in battle of the Newcomer champion, called Barak." "Barak!" I repeated. "I—I—" And I paused. When I had to learn my own name, how could it be that I sensed memory of another's name? "Weapons in his hands were the instruments of fate. His hands alone caused fear and ruin. But it pleased our fortune-bringing stars to encompass his destruction." He grinned, and licked his full lips. "Now, even as they are without their battle-leader, so we have ours." "You honor me," I told him. "Yet I still know little. It seems that I am expected to aid and lead and save the people of this world called

<question>:
How did the man's treatment change by most of the people after his thumbprints were taken?

<options>:
A He went from being treated as a criminal to being treated as one of the usual inhabitants of Dondromogon.
B He went from being treated with suspicion to being  revered.
C He went from being treated as an invader to reluctantly worshipped as Yandro.
D He went from being respected as a foreigner to being respected as a deity.

<answer>:

B