“I must send you to another world, Vir. A world on the verge of crisis. You must intervene in order to prevent the decimation of its people and the utter ruin of its reality.”
Vir visibly rolls his eyes. “Listen portalsnake —“
“It is Lord Cicerone,” spits the portalsnake.
“Yeah that. So 1., isn’t it like, a tautology that a shitload of other worlds are constantly on the doomy brink of doom? And 2., corollary: why should I care?”
Ol’ Portalsnake grinds his teeth like he’s deciding whether to lecture Vir or rip him in half. “Infinities do not work the way you think they do, mortal. And yet... your unique skills, such as they are, may be enough to turn the tide for the wizards of Velgarth.”
Vir leans back in his chair and puts his feet up on his desk, with a weighing, not seeing the profit here kind of look.
“Besides which, I am still owed 300,000 arcane as a result of your last failure.” Snakeman unhinges his jaw. “Consider this a form of settling up.”
And then the portalsnake just friggin’ swallows Vir whole.