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                                        Chapter Eight Hundred And Fifty Eight: 858
                                
                                                                                        
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... steadying breath.
"Okay, you ready to go in?"
"Of course I am," Pit said. "But is it just me, or did that guy never give you the calculation?"
"Oh," Felix turned back to Knowledge, who stood only ten feet away. "Hey, you never gave me my survival odds. What are they?"
The Geist folded its small hands into its sleeves. "Judging by your Temper, the potency of your Aspects, and your hand in the death of a Divine, I judge your chance of survival is at five percent." ...
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