Tower of Avarice: A LitRPG story

Mathew, Alivia and Greg stepped out of the magical elevator, its shimmering doors vanishing behind them the moment their feet touched the polished stone of the courtyard. The air was thick with a strange, charged energy. It wasn't oppressive or discomforting, but it had the feeling of a calm before a storm.

Above the group, the sky was a swirling masterpiece of ever-shifting colours. Deep violets bled into streaks of crimson and gold threads wove through a sea of sapphire. Emerald clouds churned like waves in an unseen current.

It was hypnotic and mesmerizing, and each of them found their eyes moving upwards as they walked forward.

As they adjusted to the overwhelming spectacle, the trio turned their attention to the massive courtyard stretching out in front of them. It was an expanse of smooth stone carved with intricate symbols that pulsed faintly with a soft, white glow.

Thousands of people were gathered together, their faces illuminated by the dim light. They were all in peak physical condition, some clad in ornate armour, robes, or even modern clothing. They talked together loudly, their voices blending together into an indistinct buzz of anticipation, apprehension and excitement.

"There are more people than I thought there would be." Greg muttered, his voice barely audible over the hum of the crowd.

"Seems a bit much just for a game. Do you think it's a competition?" Alivia added as her eyes scanned the unfamiliar faces around them.

"Maybe, but does that mean there can only be one winner?" Greg exhaled sharply and shook his head.

"The Floor description said it was a trial, not a competition. Anyone who survives will pass to the next Floor." Mathew stated softly, his eyes locked onto a distant figure. There was a surge of mana coming from that direction, and the Buzz pricked the back of his neck in warning.

Before any of them could speculate further, a voice rang out loudly. It was smooth, powerful and commanding but filled with humour and playfulness. It came from the direction Mathew was looking in and resonated outward, filling the space with its sound.

"Welcome, participants." The voice announced. The murmuring crowd fell silent in an instant as everyone felt the weight of the speaker's mana settle upon them, stifling them for a moment.

"You stand in the presence of the Apostle of the God of Games."

A hush spread like a ripple across the sea of people. A few gasped while others straightened their postures. The God of Games had been the one to design the Tower of Avarice, a way for all the deities to divvy up territory and Aether between them without erupting into war.

Mathew wasn't sure of the God of Games' strength and standing amongst the other gods, but he had no doubt the deity was high on the Totem Pole, and his Apostle shouldn't be underestimated. He had seen him centuries or millennia ago when he had come to his Earth to announce the opening of the Tower.

The Apostle stepped forward and slowly rose into the air in front of the participants, hanging suspended by magic.

He was a spectacle to behold, a man who seemed to be plucked from a cartoon, a caricature of a fantasy villain or a dandy. His suit was a flamboyant masterpiece, a chaotic blend of deep purples, electric blues and eye-watering pinks. Each colour would shift subtly as he floated, the fabric shimmering.

On top of his head was an absurd and pristine white top hat, perched at a slight angle and tall enough to make someone wonder how it didn't fall off. He twirled a black cane with a gold handle in hands covered in white gloves.

But it was his face that Mathew remembered so well from the television on his Earth. Handsome, with a wide grin and a mustache that was impossibly curled and cartoonishly long. It twisted and looped in on itself multiple times, oiled and waxed to precision. When the Apostle spoke, it twitched and wiggled on its own.

He spread his arms wide, his cane still swinging dramatically through the air as he addressed the gathered crowd.

"Ah! What a marvellous gathering. Welcome, Welcome! I do hope that you've brought your wits, your will and most importantly, your sense of fun and adventure! This 'Grand Trial' will span multiple Floors, with success carrying you ever forward toward your ultimate goal and failure resulting in your spectacular end!"

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The Apostle's grin stretched impossibly wide, and his eyes gleamed with delight.

"So tell me, dear participants. Are you ready to play?" The statement hung for a moment, lingering in the silence before the Apostle scoffed.

"That was rhetorical; it's not as if you have a choice in the matter. The rules for this Floor are simple. Don the mask that appears in front of you, and retain your sense of self. Fail, and your soul will be consumed by the spirit of the mask. Succeed, and you will progress to the next Floor and the next challenge." The Apostle finished and spun his body in the air with a flourish and a bow.

Seeing that no one was about to applaud him, the Apostle drifted toward the ground with a pout on his face and an air of sadness.

"Sounds simple enough." Alivia said once the Apostle's buffoonery was finished. Mathew shot Alivia a wary glance.

"I doubt it's as simple as he makes it seem." He cautioned.

"Yeah, I don't like the part where our souls get consumed." Greg replied, his arms crossed and his expression tight with concern.

Before anyone could say anything more, the air shimmered. A faint whisper sounded out like laughter carried on the wind. Masks began to materialize in front of everyone in the courtyard. They hovered weightlessly, waiting to be interacted with.

Each mask was different from each other. Some were elegant, decorated with gold lattice and intricate patterns. Others were crude and grotesque, with twisted features and hollowed-out eyes that seemed to stare into the depths of whoever looked at them.

Mathew's own mask was a smooth, expressionless porcelain face with a single red marking that ran down the right cheek like a tear formed from blood.

The Apostle, now sprawled out dramatically on a floating chaise lounge chair that had appeared from nowhere, was kicking his legs like a child.

"Oh, don't look so grim! You're all acting as though I just handed you all your own death warrants!" The Apostle grinned and twirled his cane.

"I mean, I have! But that's hardly the point! Chop, Chop! Get to it, or I'll start handing out demerits!"

The courtyard was completely silent, and no one dared to move an inch toward the floating masks. As the silence stretched, one brave soul, urged by his companions, reached out with a trembling hand for his mask.

The moment it touched his skin, his body stiffened. A horrible, choked gasp left his lips before his eyes rolled back in his head, and his form convulsed violently. A moment later, he went completely still.

"Still think it's simple?" Greg asked Alivia as the pair stared at the scene happening in front of them.

The silence lingered until it was broken by a manic laugh. The man stood up; his movements were unnatural and jerky, like a puppeteer had seized control. His head snapped forward, and he jammed the mask onto his face in a single, quick motion.

The laughter from the man grew, climbing in pitch until it was a shrill cackle that echoed across the courtyard. His mouth stretched too wide; his teeth became sharp and uneven. His limbs snapped and twisted into odd angles, his fingers elongated into claws, and his skin darkened.

The laughter continued, even as the man's back split open and wings burst forth. The masked monster launched itself into the air and flew away, eventually vanishing into the void that surrounded them.

The Apostle, still lounging on his floating couch, gave a slow, appreciative clap.

"Ahhh, exquisite! Now that is a contestant who truly embraced the spirit of the game." He stated, sighing dreamily before tilting his head at the stunned crowd.

"Although I imagine most of you would rather not end up like that, hmm?" He gestured lazily with his cane, and the hovering masks shimmered before slowly approaching their chosen wearer.

"Best to get on with it then."

Mathew stared at the mask hovering in front of him with a grim expression on his face. It looked so innocent compared to some of the other masks around him. But he wasn't foolish enough to believe that its appearance mattered at all.

He couldn't feel the mana inside him or the Aether he had accumulated. As the Floor description had stated, everything had been sealed away for this challenge. He could only rely on himself and his willpower.

Clenching his left hand tightly, he reached out with his right and quickly seized the mask. The moment his fingertips brushed the cool surface, a shudder ran through his body. Without conscious thought, Mathew put on the mask.

And the world exploded around him.

His vision went black, and an endless abyss stretched out in every direction. A deep pressure clamped around his skull, and his thoughts scattered. A deafening roar filled his ears, along with the presence of something vast and ancient.

Who are you?

The voice was everywhere, all around him, inside and out. It was neither cruel nor kind. Mathew tried to move, but he didn't possess a body; there was no weight to leverage.

A shape began to form in the darkness, a figure made of shadows. He couldn't see its face or its features, but he knew that the figure was staring at him, assessing him.

Do you even know?

A rush of images flooded Mathew's mind. Memories, emotions and sensations all jumbled together. His childhood, his time in school. All the pain of failure, all his joy in success. A lifetime of regret and triumphs.

Mathew gasped, and the figure loomed closer.

If you are weak, I will take you.

Something pulled at him, and his thoughts blurred. He could feel the figure's mind pressing against his own, pushing against the barriers between them in an attempt to seize control of his body.

Mathew forced his thoughts in order and brought to bear the willpower he had honed from all his time in the Tower. He hurled everything he had, everything he was, against the figure.

I am the Enduring.

The abyss shattered.