"..you trigger the anti-virus program, and..."
"But you are not online. You can't have any viruses!"
"We should not." the AI corrects, "But there are other ways the program could be infected, either by carelessness or by a rival who fears our hopes of this game being a runaway success are correct. And we plan to go online if the game proves popular. So we need quite strict protection, that prevents any fake "John Lemure" from spending your prize money."
"But I can't spend it either." you argue. "You have got to let me out."
"John," the AI chides you, "I am an extremely intelligent program, but I am still a computer program. You can't argue with me. I simply can't find any meaning in such an attempt."
With that, you find yourself back in Omar's home.
"I gather from your expression that your people have denied your request?" Omar is asking you.
"Stupid computer program is badly programmed..." you mutter.
"Such is often the way of golems," Omar sympathizes, "But I have dealt with the Djinn, and they sometimes actively seek ways to twist your commands, so come. Tell me your tale of woe and perhaps I can find a way out for you."
It sounds strange to telling what is part of a computer program what is wrong with that program, but you find yourself explaining that this is all just a game and you are just one of the player in this fantasy world, but now have run afoul of a flaw in the rules and..." You are interrupted by Omar's laughter, "Oh John, did I not know of others of your people I would deem you the greatest of fools, which you may be anyway. This is reality, and you are from the world of fantasy. ... Well, your home is real enough to you, and seems to be real in some ways as well, but you are now in a real world, and all you have done in play was done in great seriousness."
"But that's impossible." you protest, "They couldn't transfer me to another world like that."
"They also could not create an entire world complete in the smallest detail. But that is what you thought they had done." Omar counters.
"But..." you start to continue, but again Omar holds up his hand.
"We can argue this another time if you still desire." Omar states, "but consider one question, why here?"
You start to answer, but even as you think of the reasons you were told why the game was set in this Arabian background, they sound so very much like excuses, and the idea of them having to set it here because they could go to no place else looks more and more reasonable. "But why would they do that?"
"This I can't tell you." Omar confesses, "They are merchants and profit from what we do not know. I do know they sell marvelous things and demand trash in return. Gold they yawn at, but their eyes light up at the sight of some silly rocks. They will even take leaves at times. They likely have good reason for being so insane, but I have no idea what it is."
Rocks and leaves? You vaguely recall some fairy tales where the hero got gold and jewels from the fey world, only to have them turn into rocks and leaves when he got home. Was this some reversal of that? With the leaves and rocks becoming valuables at home? But that can't be...
But you were thinking only moments ago that this world didn't exist...
"But many people are in the game. How is it that nobody recognized them?"
"Oh, everybody did." Omar casually answers, "You are called the men of marvel by the common folk. I wager even "John" here knew of your nature."
"If I had, I might have been too fearful to try this with you." "John" responds, "I did not in truth know your nature until the magi said your name. I thought you just another fool with more gold than sense."
"My name?" you ask.
"Ah my dear John," Omar breaks in, "Have you ever met another John in your time here?"
"No, I don't think I have", you answer, "but it's such a common name that I likely missed it."
"No John, it is a very rare name here. Only an unbeliever would have it. Everyone who heard it knew at once you were from Beyond, and would do great or terrible things, likely both."
"Well, I don't see where this make much difference." you pout, "I am still stuck here because of a stupid computer bug."
"Maybe not." Omar contradicts, "Your golem is in its way wise because many magi are interested in going to your world, and pretending to be one of you would be a good way to try it if it did not prevent that. However, I think I can fool it and allow you to return home if you desire."
"Excellent! How soon..." But again Omar's hand is raised.
"Now I do not guarantee success." Omar warns, "In fact, I deem failure more likely and the results could be dire. Nor do I feel confident that you will like success. It is entirely possible you will end up a ponygirl when you get home. And I do know that while few of we magi have tried to get past the golem, none have returned alive. Possibly they are too happy to leave, but they may be dead or trapped or ... And I did mention that we know that some died trying.
"I have several other methods of restoring you to your proper body." Omar continues, "None are easy or free of danger, but I do not hesitate to advise you to try one of them instead."
You consider for a moment...