Then came the third day. Ives, somehow, reached the magic 100,000. How he was able to do more than five times his output, he did not know. He only knew that, sure, it was cool, but he ought to get some rest.

His rest didn't come. Ives's eyes twitched irritably as night refused to arrive. His body sweated as blinding light continued to assault him, and he counted slower.

100,001.

100,002.

100,003…

Then, pitch black. Ives flailed and tumbled over. The ground—something hit it. The wooden legs remained intact, Ives still holding on, holding on for dear hope.

He propped himself up with the chair in one expert maneuver, and his mouth remained closed. Ives kept his peace.

Then, his eyes adjusted, and he saw the third deity.

It was the final goddess—the goddess Athena.

Was she the real Athena? No one ever clarifies things in this story. I'm talking about you, John.

Let's assume all are guilty unless proven otherwise.

"Nice going, pal," Athena snickered.

Ives blinked. Thrice. He did not believe what he was seeing.

"Absolutely… beautiful," he muttered.

Athena's cheeks glowed blush red in the darkness.

"… As expected of a deity. Nothing special, haha…" Ives laughed dryly.

Athena slapped him in the face. In doing so, Ives slipped from his position for just a moment, but he caught himself. And at that moment, that dark moment, Ives almost felt swallowed whole by the pitch black air, as if it were by a starving monster that hadn't eaten in days. Or weeks.

"Hey. You almost fell," Athena pointed with a smirk.

"Yeah." Ives half-closed his eyes. "I know."

Ives always detested people pointing out self-evident truths, such as the Declaration of Independence, or students dropping their pencils in class. There was always that one "helpful" friend around.

Athena chatted with Ives for a little. They talked about this matter and that, yet neither of them brought up the context. Why would they? Ives was tired, and Athena was his respite. He would need it for the challenges to come.

Despite all of the bickering, both sides were just being good ol' tsunderes. Their time was short but cherished.

When Athena said it was time for her to leave, Ives slumped in his chair. Then he sat straight and saluted.

"Remember what I said," Athena added. "Only get in bed when you're exhausted. Cues are vital."

Well said, goddess of wisdom, Ives nodded to himself. Athena approached Ives and crouched, extending her hands to hold his palms. Ives flustered.

"If you had to stay here in this chair for eternity…" she trailed off but brought herself together. "… could you do it?"

Ives frowned. Her hands were warm, and it only occurred to him then and there that the blank space was so damn cold. It was like the second floor of your parents' room in the Upside-Down. Cool air rises infinitely in this dimension, and Ives felt he was on the hundredth floor.

"Thumb war?" Ives proposed.

"Don't be stupid," Athena said. "With my mind's eye, I know I would win. Don't say pointless things when I'm being serious—"

"3, 2, 1 go—"

""I declare a thumb war.""

Ives won.

"Brat," Athena snarled.

When Athena rose to leave (for good), she added one more thing.

"You're a strong guy, Ives. I don't know why fate placed you here, but you have a purpose. I can see it. In my mind's eye." She pointed at her forehead. Ives thought she certainly couldn't be the real Athena.

"Don't leave that chair—no matter what."

Athena disappeared before Ives could say a word. He was alone again.

When Ives returned to his mental game, it finally occurred to him then that he had lost count. He cursed the thumb war game repeatedly, threw a fit of silent rage, and bit his nails terribly. Then, he committed and started again.

He would never give up.