The Real Deal

"I already explained this." 

The man in the hooded robe shook his head and leaned against the tube. "As you can see, this is the character you created in-game. It's only here because I personally picked you up, brought you into my home as a guest, and safely extracted your soul. 

"This is all customary during the transmigration process. I thought you'd seen enough anime or read enough manga to assume as much." 

Rizz kept trying to blink with his camera eye. "What the hell are you talking about? We're in a fucking game! Just because you like to collect rare skins and characters doesn't mean I have to go along with your little act, Mr. Fake Sage."

A hand reached into the shield of shadows, clapping against the man's forehead and sliding down his face. "Rizz, Rizz, Rizz… What part of the quest did you not understand? I included warnings and everything–"

"This has to be a nightmare," Rizz burst into laughter, emphatically shaking his head. "The doc is probably trying out some new meds. Or maybe they're trying a new laser therapy. Or some other shit I missed while logged in… So how the fuck do I wake up?!" 

"Rizz… Would you rather I call you by your game name, or your government-recorded name, Rico?" 

That question was like a lightning bolt frying all of Rizz's newfound circuits. "... Did you learn all of that while hacking my account?" 

"No. I learned all of that because you listed it under your account information when you joined the game," replied the hooded man. "As for how I safely acquired your soul and brought it all the way here, that's a whole different story that we don't have the time for."

… Rizz shook his head again. He stared at his metallic hands. "Please tell me this is just a bad dream. I don't want to be a fucking robot–"

"You won't be a fucking robot," the man groaned, letting his annoyance ring out loud and clear. "First off, that robot can't fuck. Second, like I've been saying, this is only temporary. I just needed you to be able to operate some sort of physical body to speak with me and interact with the character creator."

"Character creator… ?" Rizz tried to swallow down some of his nerves. But he failed due to his lack of a throat. "Are you saying that I'll be making a new character?" 

"DUH!? That was clearly stated in the quest details!"

The robed man pulled the golden scroll out of his robe. "I put it all right here. Including the possible symptoms. That includes nausea and migraines, which you can feel for yourself. Corporal numbness, due to momentarily being left in that construct. Though, I didn't expect that to be anything new to you. 

"And we can't forget to mention the last two I directly listed: certain death and guaranteed reincarnation."

As the unfurled scroll was held up in front of Rizz, the former goblin was too dazed to even stammer. 

"Then, in the following paragraph," continued the hooded man, "I mention the opportunity for you to customize your very own body to embody upon transmigration. That's where we find ourselves right now. In the middle, where you must create your new character to inhabit." 

"... Then… All of this…" Rizz felt like he was about to hyperventilate, though his lack of lungs made it impossible in actuality. "Your character… that's… not just some rare skin?"

The robed man shook his head. 

"Are you saying… that you… are the Sage? The actual Sage, like for real?" 

Walking back toward Rizz, the man reclaimed his chair. "Yeah. That's exactly what I'm saying. And you, whatever you wish to be called, have accepted my [Isekai Quest]. I've already pulled you from your old body, so don't come begging me to put you back–"

"This is real?! I'm actually getting isekai'd? Does that mean you're the real god?!" Rizz shot question after question. 

Click.

The man turned Rizz's speaker off yet again. "Yes, this is real. Yes, I'm doing exactly what I outlined in my quest. And no, I'm the kind of god that you're imagining." 

A new batch of questions flooded Rizz's metal-encased mind. And the robed man read them all like an open book. 

"And don't even think about giving me some sob story about how hard your old life used to be."

The robed man leaned back into his chair. With his elbow on the armrest, he rested his hidden chin on his hand. "I had nothing to do with your previous life, apart from being the creator of your favorite game. So don't drivel about not being able to change your bedpans, or being cooped up in the medical ward, or failing to live a life outside of the game. If anything, I'm responsible for the one good thing you had to live for. And none of the other shit you had to go through." 

Rizz was fidgeting with his hand against his metal chin. Eventually, he found the button to turn his voice back on. "Wait?! Then this means I'm getting a new body? An actual, working body? Not just a character to pilot in VR?" 

"Yeah. That's part of the deal," the man jested with a matter-of-fact tone.

"Then I'll get to move around and feel things? Not just digitally but in real life?!" Rizz was getting louder and louder, leaning forward a bit more with each word said. 

"Mhm. And you're only in that robot until you build your character and we finish our little chat," stated the mysterious Sage. "After that, I'll create your body of choice and plant you back in the worlds of Trodar."

C-clang!

Rizz's clunky feet hit the ground hard as he sprung up, gripping the seated Sage by the shoulders. "I get a new body, AND I get to live in the worlds of Trodar?! This can't be true! This can't be real–"

"Oh, it's very real. And it's already in motion. You wouldn't be able to go back even if you wished to," remarked the Sage. 

"Who gives a fuck about my last world? That's not where I lived. That's where I suffered, living off of life support and meds." Rizz began to bounce around in his loud, metallic body. "I only lived in 'Worlds of Trodar!' Without WoT, I would've given up on everything a decade ago!" 

"Yeah, yeah, I get it," the Sage shrewdly spoke. "You're welcome and all, but no sob story is getting you extra skills or attributes. I don't feel sorry for spiriting you away and I have no sympathy for your situation. Been there, done that."