The system was kind to his body, in fact, he felt rejuvenated. Yet, his tired mind kept nagging at him to close his eyes. After the horrible misadventure of the well, his body finally relaxed. He unclenched his gut and let himself float away. Gordan was fast asleep. Before he knew it, Gordan drifted into a dream.

"Awaken..."

Gordan’s eyes shot open. Above him loomed a granite arched ceiling. He lay sprawled out, starfish-style, exactly as he had been in his bed.

No sleep huh? This shit is going to make me lose it he thought.

For a moment Gordan had expected the next ridiculous pop-up, the next giant enemy to appear. But nothing came. A few long seconds passed. He sighed, exasperated, lifting his head enough to peek around.

Gold. Silver. Holy, radiant light and magical auras overwhelmed his senses. He was in what appeared to be a treasure room.

Gordan’s brow furrowed as he inspected the towering riches around him.

Just what the hell... His thoughts turned negative.

Gordan was familiar with the labyrinth explorers as a result of manning the shop for the past years. Only one phrase was universal among explorers—

"Where there are riches, there are dragons"... He gritted his teeth before pressing on.

Stacks of luxurious armors, magic manuals, and jewels touched the ceiling. If he took even a single item, he risked causing an avalanche of riches. He tried to navigate his way through the hoard with the utmost dexterity to avoid an avalanche.

Searching seemed dangerous, but he could see no other choice in this situation. Gordan happened upon a tunnel, concealed beneath a horse sized treasure chest. The tunnel was hardly tall enough to allow him to pass if he crouched. He hesitated for a moment. His thoughts turned grim.

He crept through the narrow passage. The cave glittered with treasures—precious metals and gems inlaid along the walls. Finally, a white light broke from around a corner up ahead. The tunnel had narrowed so much he was practically crawling now.

Steadying his nerves, Gordan took a deep breath and peeked around the corner.

The room ahead was massive. Its ceiling was in the same grand style as before, but this space was notably emptier. A long red carpet stretched out before him. The carpet flanked by pillars, leading up to a lofty-looking throne. And on that throne, sat a figure.

"So, we finally meet."

Gordan’s eyes widened. His heart pounded in his chest as cold sweat broke out along his back. The figure’s voice was deep, burrowing into his soul with a tone so cold and sharp it sent chills through him.

Quickly, Gordan pulled his head back around the corner, panic setting in.

Fuck. Fuck. FUUUUUCK. What do I do?

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Do I talk to him?

Who even is this guy?

Is he friend or foe?

Finally? What do you mean finally?

His mind raced.

"Come out. It’s no use hiding. Why don’t we have a... chat?" The voice softened, but there was no mistaking the undertone of hostility and the murderous intent that lingered.

God dammit, Gordan cursed silently.

With no other options, he crouched and crawled out of the tunnel. As he crossed the threshold into the room, he held his hands up, as if he were being held at gunpoint.

"Come here, 'chosen,' we have much to discuss."

Gordan reluctantly complied. He shuffled down the red carpet, searching his mind for any clue about what was happening. His thoughts were a mess, he felt coerced. Running back felt futile—Staying here felt akin to suicide. Something about the situation warned him it wouldn’t end well.

The throne itself was an extravagant piece—red velvet cushioned by gold framework. Gordan thought it was a perfect symbol of greed and excess. As he approached, the man on the throne came into focus.

The figure had dirty blonde hair that fell in long, scruffy locks. His physique was nothing short of incredible. A towering figure in golden armor that looked light on him despite its bulk.

The man’s eyes narrowed as he looked at Gordan.

"You are going to help me."

Gordan blinked, dumbfounded. "Sorry? Come again?"

Silence fell on the room for two, maybe three seconds. To Gordan, this felt like an eternity.

"Our meeting was decided when you inherited my skill. Do not feign ignorance." He commanded.

Inherited?... Gordan thought in disbelief.

"So, you're... I mean, you have the same class as me?"

"Had." The figure curtly responded.

"Ah, so..." Gordan looked at the floor, he didn't know how to respond.

"It's simple, come to me when you obtain the administrators key."

A key? That's it? Alright Mr. Big-Guy, I'll play along.

"You got it boss~ No worries, got you covered! Key, one for the administrators. Yes of course, that one. Totally got you! See you soon! ..." Gordan slowly began to walk away. The figure was aghast at his shamelessness. His eyes flickered first with frustration, then he focused his vision squarely on Gordan. He looked... Amused.

At this point, Gordan had decided his course of action; Agree, then run away!

"Then we understand each other. I'll be waiting for you in the labyrinth, I have faith you will find me."

His vision became hazy and darkened around the edges.

Why am I here again? ... Gordan began to lose his grip.

Ah, yeah, The key... a key? ...

The following morning Gordan was sat on his bed. His legs hung off and his shoulders slumped forward. He had nary wiped the sleep from his eyes before he got his morning quest alert.

[ A Quest has Arrived ]

[ Quest: Find the Administrators Key ]

[ Reward: Arnold Gusterson's Favor ]

--

[ A Quest has Arrived ]

[ Quest: Man the Shop! ]

[ Reward: 3g (From Mom) ]

Ah. I'm fucked. He thought.