Tower of Avarice: A LitRPG story

Mathew and Emily stepped out of the elevator into the quiet hum of the eighty-fifth Floor of the Tower of Avarice. The metal doors slide shut behind them with a soft hiss, leaving the pair in silence.

The office floor was unremarkable in every way and could have been taken from any office building in New York. It was sterile and professional, with all glass windows and grey carpets with silver accents on the door handles and trim.

The room smelled of coffee and leather, and the dry, conditioned air was set to the perfect temperature. He could feel it blowing against his face and hear the faint rattle of the ducts above. A long conference table made of dark walnut sat in the center of the room, surrounded by high-backed leather chairs.

Through the tall walls, they could see the grey, rain-soaked skyline of New York as fat droplets slid down the glass, blurring the outlines of buildings and obscuring the horizon.

Neither of them spoke at first. The elevator ride had been cloaked in an awkward quiet that was strangely charged and oddly brittle. It wasn't just the time that had passed since they'd last seen each other, but everything that had happened in between.

They each had lifetimes of experience in the Tower and had seen things that few could believe. They had changed, and neither could be considered the same person as they had been when they had last met.

Emily adjusted her robes before placing her staff back in her inventory while Mathew walked a few steps ahead, hands in his black jacket pockets that he had retrieved while they were in the elevator together. He hadn't changed his clothing but had used a cleansing tablet to clean them.

"New York hasn't changed at all since we left. It's been hundreds, maybe thousands of years for me, yet it seems like only a few minutes have passed here." Mathew muttered as he came to the window and looked down at the city far below. Central Park was visible around them, and he could still find the crowd that had been surrounding the Tower when he had entered.

The air between them was thick with memory. This city had been their home together for years, and they had been so happy. Living in their apartment that she had decorated, working at the non-profit while Mathew worked at his family's firm.

But those days were long gone now.

"How long has it been for you?" Mathew asked softly, his eyes still gazing out the window.

"I don't know. Things have been a blur since mom… decades at least." Emily trailed off as she clenched her hands together nervously. She had so much to say to Mathew but couldn't find the words. It was like there was a dam inside, blocking the flow of words and emotions, preventing them from bursting out.

Mathew finally turned away from the window, and his eyes settled on Emily.

"I thought about you." He said. Mathew didn't move closer to her, and he didn't look away as he spoke.

"Every day. Every year. Every century. You're the reason I kept going, Em. You're why I endured everything that I had to. I wanted to see you again." Mathew admitted, his voice calm and steady.

Emily looked up sharply; the words caught her off guard. Her breath hitched, and for a moment, she looked like she might speak and the dam inside her might break. But then her gaze dropped to the Floor, and the cracks in that dam repaired themselves.

"I didn't let myself." She replied, her voice heavy. Some of those emotions bottled up inside her had leaked out, and she drew in a deep breath to calm herself once again.

"It hurt too much. I told myself that you were gone, that too much time had passed. And even when I stopped believing that, I couldn't let myself hope for anything normal." She shook her head slowly, and her voice trembled despite her best efforts to stop.

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"Hope made it worse."

The silence that followed wasn't awkward like it had been in the elevator. It was heavy but honest.

Mathew took a step toward her.

"We're both here now." He said. Mathew was much closer to her now, so near that she could reach out to grab him without any effort at all. But she held herself back. Things would become much harder if she gave in to her impulse now.

She looked up again, meeting his eyes with a mixture of grief, disbelief and guilt.

"But we're not the same people as we once were."

"No, but that doesn't mean my feelings are any different, Em."

The rain tapped steadily against the glass behind them, but neither of them noticed as they slowly moved closer. Emily reached out with her hand and was about to hold Mathew's when a voice cleared their throat behind them.

They both spun around to look, instinctively readying themselves for a fight when they saw that it was the grey-suited young woman. Mathew immediately relaxed, but her didn't move away from Emily.

"You." Mathew muttered. He wasn't surprised to see her. The Tower was her place, and she had plucked him from other Floors several times to bring him back here.

"Hello, Mr. Larson. You seem to be doing well, albeit poorly dressed. There is an unused office on this floor if you would like to change it." The young woman said as she came to the table and, set down a folder and took a seat.

Mathew shook his head in response.

"No need. This won't take long." Mathew replied before turning to look at Emily.

"You said you needed to talk to me? I'm guessing she has something to do with it." Mathew asked, jerking his thumb in the direction of the young woman.

"Yeah. She arranged all this."

"Alright, let's get this over with. Now that we're together, we can climb to the top of the Tower together and make your wish come true." Mathew said, and Emily felt a sharp pain of guilt in her heart as she followed him to take a seat at the large table.

Mathew leaned back slightly in his chair and looked at the young woman with his arms crossed. She had her hands folded neatly in front of the manilla folder that she had set on the table.

Emily took a deep breath, but the air felt thin in her lungs. Her eyes dropped to her hands in her lap. Her fingers were clenched so tightly they'd gone pale.

"She isn't the reason you're here, Mathew. I am. There's more to it than just climbing the Tower together. This isn't about my wish, not anymore. Not really." Emily trailed off and fidgeted slightly as Mathew tilted his head and looked at her with a frown.

"Then, what is it about?"

She looked at him, her eyes filled with tears and the weight of everything that she had carried alone for far too long. As she said, hope made things worse, and now that she had the opportunity to get what she wanted, she couldn't throw it aside.

She took a quick glance at the young woman, hoping that she would speak, but she sat there as still as a statue, waiting for Emily to take the lead in the discussion.

"A god contacted me through her. I don't know their name, but they're powerful. Powerful enough to bring my mom back to life and let us leave the Tower together. It offered me a deal."

Mathew's expression darkened as the muscles in his jaw tightened. He turned angrily to the young woman, his tone aggressive.

"What kind of deal?" Mathew demanded. The young woman didn't answer, instead looking at Emily. She swallowed and spoke in a voice that trembled but was determined.

"It wants you, Mathew. It wants you to become its Apostle. In exchange, it'll revive my mother. It will bring her back, and it'll free us from the Tower. We won't need to climb the Tower anymore. We can go home." Emily's heart was pounding so loudly that it was all she could hear at the moment as she nervously waited for his response.

Mathew's expression crumbled, the anger fleeing from him so quickly that it could have been an illusion that it existed in the first place. His face turned white, and he ran his fingers through his hair as he processed what she had said.

His hands trembled as he dragged them through his hair, his fingers catching on knots and snarls that tugged painfully. His mouth opened to speak, but no words came out. The silence that followed was crushing, thick with emotion and anticipation.

"Mischievous Depravity." Mathew finally muttered, and they all felt the room vibrate around them, as if saying the name had drawn the attention of the deity upon them. Mathew looked at the grey-suited woman for confirmation.

"Indeed. Mischievous Depravity is the one who contracted me to act as mediator." The young woman confirmed, and Mathew let out a deep breath.

"That's one god that can't be trusted. What assurances do I have that if I agree, they'll follow through with the contract?" Mathew asked, and Emily gasped. She couldn't believe that he would agree without argument, without trying to convince her otherwise.

That fact just made the guilt inside her that much worse.

"It is a contract guaranteed by the Tower." The young woman said, and Mathew nodded. He turned to look at Emily.

"I'll do it. I can understand why you want to take this opportunity, Em. Climbing the Tower isn't guaranteed, and I know how much she means to you." Mathew said, and Emily couldn't help but stand up suddenly and grip his hand.

"You don't have to do this, Mathew! I can't ask you to sacrifice yourself for me!" Emily yelled, only for Mathew to smile gently.

"That's why I entered the Tower in the first place, Em."