Tower of Avarice: A LitRPG story

Chapter 2 – Floor 0: Part 2

‘That’s not possible.’ Mathew thought as the black tower rose above the buildings blocking his sight of Central Park. It caught the failing October light on its dark, tinted windows.

Aside from his years at Harvard, he had lived in New York City his entire life, and he knew its features and streets like the back of his hand. There had never been a high-rise building in that spot. It would need to have been constructed in Central Park, something that would never be allowed.

“It’s a prank. Some hologram or something.” Another patron muttered beside him, having the same idea to look for the tower.

Mathew wasn’t as sure. It certainly looked real. A hologram of a musician on a smokey stage in the distance is one thing. This is an entire building in the middle of the most densely populated city in the United States, sprouting out of nowhere.

He remembered looking at the skyline while at his therapist’s office only half an hour ago. That black tower hadn’t been there. Turning back to the news broadcast, the screen was beginning to show other similar structures in other cities around the world.

Los Angeles had one rising in front of Griffth’s Observatory, the tower edging close to the building. It could be seen anywhere in the city, and helicopters circled it. He could see that the LAPD were still in the process of placing barricades around it.

The image shifted to Chicago. Mathew could recognize it by Millenium Park and its iconic silver ‘Bean’ art installation. The tower rose behind the statue, rising so far that it met the clouds above the city.

Rain beat against its windows, giving Mathew the impression that it had a ‘physical’ presence. It wasn’t a hologram or trick of the light.

Vancouver, Toronto and Edmonton, it seemed the Towers had appeared in Canada, as well as Mexico City and other places in North America.

Mathew watched with fascination as the news report showed towers in Europe, Africa, Asia and Australia. One had even been spotted in Iceland, of all places, in Reykjavik. The tower there loomed over everything, a hundred stories tall. No other structure in the country could come close compared to its height.

Every tower appeared the same, rising nearly fifteen hundred feet into the sky. Made of black stone with dark, tinted office windows that ringed every floor, they had a slightly gothic architecture, giving Mathew an ominous feeling about them.

Each lacked a door. It was something Mathew had noticed as he stared at the television. There was no ‘front’ of the building or rear. No pathways led to its entrance, nor was there any visible entryway. To Mathew, it seemed more like a windowed monolith than an office building, a piece of art rather than a structure with a purpose.

After an hour of watching the screen, a spokesperson for the White House appeared to discuss the event. It wasn’t a hoax; the buildings were real, and they had no idea what their purpose was or who had erected them.

Thousands of these Towers appeared from one moment to the next, and no one knew why.

“That’s bullshit! Are you telling me that they don’t know who’s behind this? It would take thousands of people to do something like this. Engineers, construction workers, god only knows who else!” Someone in the bar shouted at the screen, and Mathew’s attention was drawn away from the television.

“It’s a hoax. They put something in the air or the water, and now we’re all hallucinating. It's MK Ultra all over again!”

“It’s aliens! I’m telling you! I watched a video about the pyramids. The same shit happened in ancient Egypt. They were walking through the desert, and Bam! Pyramids plopped down right in front of them. They used them to land their ships on.”

“You’re off your meds! They’re probably inflatable, like a bouncy castle. You’ll see. They’ll draw all kinds of attention to them, and suddenly, a white apple or a big ‘G’ will show up on the side. Think of the advertising they are getting from this.”

Mathew listened to what they were saying but didn’t believe any of it. There was something about what he was seeing that seemed too…real. And he didn’t think it was finished yet. He was just waiting for the other shoe to drop.

He didn’t have to wait long.

The television that had captivated the entire pub as it hung on the wall behind the bar began to glitch, and the broadcast started to distort. The feed, which had been showing towers from various parts of the world, faded away as something else ‘hijacked’ the screen.

“What the hell is going on?!” Someone shouted in anger.

“Is the cable out?” Another asked the bartender, who was looking at the television with confusion. Picking up the remote, he tried to change the channel, but nothing happened.

Looking away from the television, Mathew picked up his phone to browse the internet and social media for more information. Tapping on the screen, nothing happened. He couldn’t even open up any of his apps.

Frustrated, he was about to hard reset his phone when a voice shouted from out from the television and his phone simultaneously.

“Hello, Earth!”

A man appeared on the television, and Mathew could see that he was also on his and every other patron’s phone. Somehow, this strange person had taken control of every technological device in the entire pub. Every screen was showing his face.

The bizarre man was unlike anyone Mathew had ever seen outside of an eccentric movie character or television show. He wore an eye blisteringly bright red suit jacket with a fluorescent orange, high-collared button-up shirt beneath. A white top hat and cane completed the outfit.

He looked young, in his mid-twenties, with the worst mustache imaginable, in Mathew’s opinion. It was long and curled, like a villain from an old cartoon. As he called out from the television, he spread his arms wide, and the camera slowly zoomed out to show that he stood in a white void.

Kicking his legs in excitedly with each word, he let his ‘hello’ drag on for a long moment, ending his greeting with a smile that showed a set of blindingly white teeth.

“Don’t be alarmed! I come in peace!”The man laughed as if he were making a joke and expected everyone to join him.

“I do have the honour, as the Apostle of the God of Games, to welcome you all to the greatest contest in the history of your world! But, not just your world, but every version of your world!” The man exclaimed, and fireworks exploded across the screen.

To Mathew’s shock, explosions sounded from the sky outside, and the darkness was filled with multicoloured light to match what was happening on the television.

“What the hell?” Mathew whispered. If this was a trick, it was a good one.

“The Gods, in their infinite wisdom and mercy, have deemed humanity ready for this grand undertaking. This magnificent competition, this stupendous sport!” The man was mad, throwing his arms wide and kicking his legs with every word.

He threw his cane into the air at the end of his statement and caught it with a flourish.

“You have no doubt noticed the arrival of our venue for this sport. Thousands of Shards, all mere reflections of the one true Tower of Avarice! One hundred floors, at the top of which our winners will find that which they desire. Power! Glory! Unimaginable Wealth and Fame! Whatever you want, whatever you wish for, all will be fulfilled on the hundredth floor.”

“So the Gods have decreed.” The man’s voice faded as he took off his white tophat and bowed to these ‘Gods.’ Standing upright after a moment, he tapped his finger against his lips in thought before snapping his fingers.

“But a contest needs players and participants. And that, my lovelies, is where you all come in. The Gods have given you a gift, an opportunity to seize! This contest is open to all! Young and old! Healthy and sick! Wealthy and poor! You are all equal in the Tower.”

“You have doubts. I can hear you now.” The Apostle cupped his hand against his ear, leaning his head toward the camera as his voice reached a higher, childlike pitch.

“This is a trick! How can we trust you when you say ‘anything’ can be won in the Tower?” His voice resumed its usual tone. “Well, every game has rules, my lovelies. Guaranteed by the Gods, binding in this universe and every other! To prove it to you, simply say ‘Rules’ in a loud, clear voice in the language of your choice.” The Apostle finished.

He seemed to be waiting, impatiently tapping his foot for the Earth to comply with his request. He even looked at a pocket watch, a golden accessory sparkling with diamonds.

With looks to each other, several of the bar patrons spoke, their voices distinct in the total silence of the pub.

“Rules!” One woman shouted, and a book materialized in front of her. Hovering in the air, it waited until she held her hands out before it fell into her palms. Mathew could see the word ‘Rules’ emblazoned on the cover in gold.

“What the F-” Mathew shouted, his chair tumbling to the ground behind him. Every other person around him matched his reaction as more books materialized to called requests for ‘Rules.’