Tower of Avarice: A LitRPG story

Floor 75: Resist the power of the mask and traverse the first trial using its abilities.

Mathew returned from the void as a searing, electric shockwave tore through his body. So intense was the feeling that it ripped the breath from his lungs. His vision blurred for a moment before snapping back with increased clarity.

Every muscle in his body seized and expanded, his tendons pulled taut as his flesh was rewritten from the inside out by the power of the mask. His limbs stretched, his bones groaned under the immense strain, yet they did not break.

He was adapting to the power, growing taller, broader and heavier as he became something more monstrous but also divine. A thunderous thump echoed in his ears like a second heartbeat that was layered on top of his own.

Mathew's veins burned like rivers of molten gold from a power that was so foreign and unnatural that it made his stomach churned.

He staggered forward, but the motion felt heavier and different from before. The ground cracked beneath his step and the air vibrated around him with an energy that extend beyond the mortal realm into somewhere godly.

Mathew flexed his fingers, and a strange pressure coiled around them. Raw strength thrummed beneath his skin. He was stronger than he had been before, but it wasn't his strength. It came from the mask stuck firmly to his face.

Something else was in him now, he could feel it creeping through his mind with cold fingers that brushed against the edges of his thoughts. There weren't words or commands that he could ignore, but something far more insidious. There was an intent that wormed his way through his consciousness.

It didn't force itself upon him, but it lingered and waited. It was a god's touch, one warped and corrupted that sought to reshape him into a tool to serve it.

"Greg, are you alright?" Mathew heard Alivia ask, and he turned around to look at his friend. Alivia's voice came out unsteady, barely more than a whisper, and was filled with concern.

Greg stood beside him, taller and with a presence that was him feel alien. There was a golden mask that clung to his face like it had always been there, its surface gleaming with an unnatural radiance. It was producing light on its own that pulsed faintly.

Flecks of gold swirled in the Sharpshooter's eyes, specks of molten metal that drifted through the whites before dissolving into his black pupils like ink dissolving into water. It was mesmerizing and beautiful in an unnerving way.

Greg didn't answer; he stood with complete stillness, his chest rising and falling slow, and he had measured breaths that felt too calm for the events that were taking place.

"Greg." Mathew said commandingly, his tone forcing the young man to look at him. When Greg raised his head and his golden eyes locked onto Mathew's, he wasn't sure if he was looking at his friend at all.

"You're stronger than it." Mathew stated simply, and it seemed like something within Greg snapped. He could see consciousness return to his friend's eyes as Greg suddenly inhaled a deep breath and shook his head.

"Christ! What the hell was that thing!" Greg exclaimed as he looked around at his friends once again. He paused for a long moment as he stared at Mathew before tearing his eyes away to study Alivia.

The Drafter's mask sat firmly on her face, its smooth black surface absorbing all the light that touched it. Oddly, it had a single white horn jutting out from the right side of its forehead, while a thin blue line ran across the mask near the nose.

But Alivia seemed completely unaffected by the mask.

If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

She stood there, calm and steady, with the same confidence and sharp focus that she always had. There was no trembling in her hands, no sluggish movements or vacant stare. Where the mask had twisted others like Greg and even Mathew, burrowing into their minds like a parasite, she remained untouched.

Greg took a moment to collect himself, his chest heaving as he turned to look at Alivia.

"Damn…that was…I don't even have words for it." Greg paused for a moment, hesitating as he watched Alivia carefully.

"Alivia, how the hell are you just standing there like nothing's happening? That mask…" Greg broke off, unsure how to finish. It should have had some effect on her, but she didn't show the slightest sign.

Alivia's lips curled into a smile that lit up her eyes.

"I guess I'm just tougher than you two. But don't worry, I'll make sure to protect you if anything goes sideways." Alivia said with a wink as the tension broke just a little.

Laughing, Greg shook his head as they were interrupted by the Apostle for the God of Games, clapping his hands loudly to draw the attention of the crowd.

Where there was once a sea of faces, now there was a unified gathering of masked people, each with a unique look. The masks warped their features, making them all seem otherworldly. Some had horns, others were hideous, while quite a few were elegant or even playful.

"Good. Now that you have all donned your masks, those that are still of sound mind are ready for the first task."

Behind him, the courtyard began to stretch outward into an unfathomably large chasm. It was filled with jagged rocks, twisting platforms and walls that seemed to stretch beyond mortal sight.

The Apostle raised a hand and pointed to the horizon with his long fingers and nails that were as garishly decorated as his clothing.

"Behold! This is the Gauntlet, the first of many trials. It is a path forged from the will of the God of Games. To prove yourselves and your new connection to the power that dwells within the masks you were, you must reach the distant end. As you travel through the Floors and defeat new challenges, the power available to you through the masks will grow." The Apostle said, his voice ringing out deeply and loudly with divine power.

"But be cautious; the more you draw on your mask's power, the more influence it will have on you. You will all walk on the edge of a knife, and if you should lose your balance and fall, well, you know the consequence." The Apostle finished, dropping his hand and leaving the crowd breathless and anxious.

"Well? What are you waiting for? Move!" The Apostle screamed as he laughed and cheered them on.

Mathe's muscles coiled beneath his skin as he tensed; every nerve was filled with the power that coursed through him. The mask, now fused to his face, felt like a part of him and its magic thrummed. His body had become a weapon as his agility and strength were magnified beyond human limits.

With a deep breath, Mathew launched himself forward. The first obstacle on his path was a massive, spiked pendulum that swung toward him with dangerous speed. His legs pushed him off of the ground, sending him sailing through the air.

Each step propelled him with a surge of raw power. He landed on the edge of a stone column, the rock crumbling slightly under his weight, but he was gone again before it could begin to fall. Platforms passed swiftly beneath him, and Mathew practically flew as he spent only moments on the ground.

He was a blur of speed and power, and even when he was faced with a sheer cliff that rose into the sky to the point where he couldn't see the top, he didn't hesitate. Without a second thought, Mathew ran toward it, his feet barely touching the ground as he sprinted up the face of the wall, scaling it vertically as if it were horizontal earth.

"You're too slow, Mathew." Greg said as he ran past him. His friend wasn't even touching the ground. Instead, he was leaping off of gold platforms that formed in front of him, keeping him aloft. He was little more than a streak of golden light as he raced past him, and before Mathew could respond, he was gone.

As Mathew neared the top of the cliff, a giant, flame-spewing serpent made of rock rose from the cliff face. Its jaws snapped toward him, and without hesitation, he clenched his fist and struck out. He hit the serpent with an earth-shaking crash, shattering the creature's stone skull into pieces. Fire and ash rained down, but Mathew was already moving. He leapt to the last stretch and landed atop the cliff.

"You feel it. The power I offer. It is beyond anything the Tower can give you, beyond what any god can bestow upon their Apostle."

The voice whispered to Mathew, slithering into the crevices of his mind like venom. Along with the words came the presence that dwelled within the mask. The whispers wrapped tighter around him, seeking his weaknesses and feeding off his desires.

"You will need more. Don't fight it. Embrace it and take the force you need to overcome these trials. Together, nothing in the Tower can stop us."

"Mathew?" Alivia asked as she placed her hand on his arm in concern. He hadn't seen her approach; he hadn't even known she was here. Mathew blinked his eyes and looked around. There were hundreds of people on the cliff, all having passed the first challenge.

"I'm fine." He replied, shaking off the intruding thoughts of the mask.