The Ad- Calvin stood in the center of Floor 93, watching the catgirls wander to their old shops. Samurai gave him a confused look, then followed Aya.
Calvin took a step towards the tree line, then another, then broke into a run. He climbed the semi-hidden stairs, ran down the walkway, and yanked open the treasure chest. A stone staircase was revealed, partially covered in a golden glow.
This was the only Floor where the portal wasn't obvious. The entrance and exit to the Floor were locked, but the Director hadn't noticed the third way out. Thankfully.
Looking around, Calvin stepped into the chest. He jumped down the steps, quickly coming to a hedge maze. It took him a few minutes to find the entrance on the amusement park side, which was next to the Floor Overseer’s house.
For some reason, he hesitated at the door. He didn’t know… Well, he didn’t even know if she was home. He knocked nervously on the door, then waited.
After a few seconds he heard footsteps, a pause, and the door opened.
Emmy saw Calvin and beamed. She threw her arms around him, holding him tightly.
“Hi,” he said softly, feeling his tension melt away as he hugged her back.
Everything was ok. She was so beautiful, her hair smelled so good, and she was happy to see him. She hadn’t forgotten him. Nothing else mattered.
“You’re here,” she laughed. “I thought I wouldn’t see you here again.”
“I would have broken before the year was out,” he told her. “Not talking to you was torture.”
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She took half a step back, pulling away to look him in the face. “Is something wrong?”
Calvin shrugged. “Yeah. But I get to be with you. So it could be worse.”
Taking his hands, she pulled him inside. “What happened?”
He looked at their hands, shrugging again as he tried to smile. “They figured out what I was doing. Didn’t like it. Stripped my privileges, sent me to Floor 93.”
Emmy kicked the door closed, leading him to the couch. “They didn’t… What about…” She sat down next to him, looking into his face. “Tell me.”
Calvin leaned back, preferring to look at the ceiling. “The Director didn’t like my sending NPCs instead of players. So this cycle I’m here with the catgirls and co., and she’s taken ten ‘real’ players to go through her dungeon. If they win, they stay and I get to continue admin-ing. If they’re in the lower quarter when someone else wins, the catgirls get to go back and I get to continue admin-ing. If they’re above Floor 45… I don’t want to think about that.”
“So you’re stuck waiting?” she asked.
“Yep.”
Emmy moved her legs over his knees, leaning her head on his shoulder as she put a hand on his chest. “Calvin…”
“I’m tired,” he admitted.
“When was the last time you slept?” she asked quietly.
He sighed. “It’s been a few cycles.”
“You should sleep. And eat; if you’re a player you can’t survive on iced coffee any more.”
Calvin smiled but didn’t have the energy to think of something snarky.
“Actually, I don’t know that,” she said after a few seconds. “Can you survive on nothing but iced coffee?”
“The System kind of presumes everyone will die about once a month, so it doesn’t care about nutrition,” he said. “Surviving on iced coffee is possible.”
“I’ll make sure you eat anyway,” Emmy decided. “Now that you aren’t an all-mighty and eternal deity, someone has to take care of you.”
“Thank you.”
“No problem.”
Calvin kissed the top of her head, whispering three words.
She moved slightly, smiling up at him. “I love you, too.”