After letting everyone know what had happened, Izenakee couldn't help Herself. As She levitated back toward the hospital tower, She scritched Twilight's scalp, and was rewarded with a soft, content sigh. As a bonus, the feeling was transmitted right back to Her. And then back to the girl in Her arms. And then back to Her, and to her, and to Her, and to her...

Ahhh. Izenakee really loved being the Goddess of Empathy. It was a difficult eternal life, but somebody had to live it. She'd need to get back into a Sanctuary, soon, inside the red magic shielding enchantments placed on them, before Her mind was broken by the constant empathic assault, but for now...Ahhhhh.

Genekil ahhhh'd back.

Maybe They would go to the Sacred Island, soon. That was the best Sanctuary. It didn't even need enchantments. And it was filled with cuddly little cuties, like the one in Her arms.

Izenakee broke out of Her reverie, and looked out over the city of Genekil. She remembered when this city, just south of the equator on the river of the same name, in the savanna of the same name, had still been little more than ruins, razed in the Ancient War and then mostly abandoned for millennia afterwards. No longer. The world had been Renewed, now for millennia more than it had been ruined.

Hmm, a young man in Ezenta needed to talk to someone. Empathy sent him feelings of being cherished--sent through the red magic link a little bit of what She was feeling from the millions of residents of Genekil--and offered to Listen.

As She was speaking with him and others, She returned Her attention to the cityscape. It was now towers of gleaming blue enchanted stone and sparkling crystal, connected by skybridges criss-crossing streets crowded with enchanted cars. Blue mages on every block made a living recharging items. Modern enchantment efficiency for mundane items was much higher than it had ever been, but with so many items in daily use by everyone, they were always busy. The weather was whatever the local green mages wanted it to be, in every city. Information traveled as fast as red mages could think, and as fast as enchanted recorders and displays could transmit. Hospitals were staffed with enough white mages that broken bones were a momentary inconvenience, and black mages found more employment in construction, mining, and manufacturing than in combat professions.

<You can always find someone to talk to, whenever you need it, at the Temple. There are always Helpers there who want to speak with you,> Izenakee replied to an older man She was Listening to in Esto. <I can tell them that you are on your way, if you like. Or, if you prefer, I will be in Esto soon, maybe even tomorrow. You can come by, and speak with Me in person. I would like that. I want to give you a hug, if that's alright.>

Empathy already knew that this particular man would be too shy to accept a hug from the Goddess of Love and would decline, but the simple fact that She had offered would save his life.

<...You really would?> he replied.

...Huh? Izenakee was surprised. It was not often that She was mistak--Ah! The girl in Her arms was summoning her courage! It had leaked through, in the perfect way, organic, with the right dash of shyness to feel natural to the recipient, with perfect timing.

Little Twilight was such a good helper that she helped accidentally! Dawn smiled in delight, and scritched her head again.

"Little cuties like you are always welcome to play with My hair," She giggled out. "Don't be shy."

That was all the permission she needed.

<It would make Me very happy! Make sure you come. I will be expecting you, and I want My hug!>

Genekil's public rail line pulled into the hospital's station as Izenakee was approaching to land in its plaza. The passengers were all a little curious about why everyone was shielded, but it wasn't too unusual since everyone knew that the Goddesses were in the city today. How could anyone not!? Izenakee giggled, imagining their faces when the Goddess giving them all fuzzies floated down to the ground in front of them, carrying a five-year-old girl in Her arms, while said girl fluffed Her hair.

<I see,> She replied to the young man in Ezenta. <Mistakes are forgivable, if you try to make amends. The Helpers at the Temple can arrange for this, if you go to talk to them. I will be in Ezenta in a few weeks. We can speak together then, if you want. I would like that.>

The train interaction went more-or-less as Izenakee expected.

She gave a little wave, pointed to the girl in Her arms while mouthing "so cute," and walked toward the waiting Guards, to reenter the hospital. She was proud of Herself for maintaining Her footing despite being struck by a chest-high wave of worshipful adoration, although She did turn the same color as Her hair.

Then She felt a rush of alarm from the Guards, and saw that they were moving into firing positions. She turned around.

Sigh.

The Goddesses had stuffed Sadism, Ruthlessness, Avarice, Imperiousness, Corruption, Narcissism, and Exploitation into a pit, lit it on fire, and sealed the exit, and yet still they endured. Still they persisted and resented and schemed impotently under cover of red magic blockers. She could break through trivially if She knew exactly where the breaking needed to be done, but She did not. These anathema were careful not to enter the public eye. And now, they had remotely activated, automated, airborne enchanted weapons platforms, and today they had perceived some kind of opportunity.

What did they hope to accomplish? They must know that Salvation's shields were impenetrable, that even if they miraculously managed to achieve some harm She would simply undo it. They must know that they would earn Retribution's thunderous and molten wrath. It had happened before! Was it all for fifteen minutes of fame? To associate the Goddesses with danger in the public mind? To rid the world of warm fuzzies? To remind everyone that even in utopia there were people who wanted misery for the sake of it? Or were they really just poking and prodding, hoping to find a moment of weakness, harboring some dream of eventually getting lucky, and managing a successful assassination?

It was true that there were degrees of death even Salvation could not undo, but still, how desperately irrational! Even if they succeeded, were they not aware that Izenakee's infinity of mana would surely linger? She had a job left to do in this world, and there was already a Temple of the Anastasis for one Sister.

It was all so pointless. These types really were immune to thought.

Izenakee let Her Sisters know what was happening, and urged Justice to remember this time that Her baby Sister would be perfectly fine. Her current shield would keep Her safe in the core of the Sun. And, She reminded bystanders that Her Sisters were nearby, and everyone was shielded by the White Goddess Herself, so there was nothing to fear.

As the various missiles and bombs struck Her shield and the area around Her, Izenakee had only two concerns.

First, the world's warm fuzzies were about to be replaced for a while with white hot outrage. The people in the plaza weren't even flinching. Faith in the Goddesses was absolute. But they were furious. That was not something that the Goddess of Love enjoyed feeling in people.

And second, those responsible would wonder who this girl in Love's arms was. They had found a new, more vulnerable target.

Twilight's song has barely started, Izenakee thought, Her Own outrage mounting, fed by the bystanders'. How dare they dream of ending it.

The plaza shook violently and fractured, and Love toppled to the ground. She rolled so that Kenna remained on top.

Thunder boomed in the sunny plaza, and not just from the Guards' weapons.

Izenakee watched from the ground. Ah, the idiots tried toxic gas this time, She noticed, before Menelyn purified the air with a thought. Did they really think that would work? Were they really not aware what world they lived in? The Goddesses won in this world, and They won hard.

Wow. If they can't read, they should get someone to read the books to them. Izenakee would volunteer. Actually, maybe it'd be a good lesson for little Twilight.

Love righted Herself with a mana platform, still holding the newborn mage, and walked into the center of a circle of agitated Guards, not for safety but to mollify them. As She did, She projected calm to the people of Genekil, and sent apologies for the interruption to all whom She had been talking to, around the world.

Izena had already turned every enemy into vapor and puddles of lava, and looked regretful that there weren't more targets to beat into atoms--if the crowd was feeling outrage and fury, Izenakee didn't know the word for what Her eldest Sister was feeling. All that was left was to repair the damage. So pointless, every time.

At least Kenna had interpreted these events as a front row seat in a Goddess adventure feature display. If her hands were free, she would be applauding.

Izenakee giggled. Even a five-year-old knew that the outcome was predetermined.

Warm fuzzies started pushing back against Genekil's mounting outrage.

"Kennalaria! Are you alright?" Kenna's father called. "Oh, what am saying? Of course you are. Love Herself is holding you."

Regretfully, Izenakee moved to hand Kenna...laria back to her parents, but she made it clear that she was fine where she was. Oh well. Carrying little cuties around is a difficult job, but somebody needs to do it.