Twilight was thankful that this place was both air-conditioned and underground, pleasantly cool despite the oppressive climate topside.

For the sake of combat practicality, she was wearing a snug sleeveless unitard, not a frilly dress, but she still had her arms-length gloves, and everything was glossy. She had tried to wear something as fabulously girly as possible, subject to not being a fire hazard. First, it was her thing, and second, although it may not be their main motive, there was a lot of misogyny in this room. Being defeated by a sparkling little girl of twenty, only slightly bigger than Her diminutive Sister--probably better childhood nutrition and less trauma, Mennie said--would be extra unpleasant for many here.

During her monologue, Twilight had been formulating a plan. If she had her Sisters' mana pools, she could continually jump her opponents into the air, like the first one, but she didn't have enough to do that one-by-one for the ninety remaining, not in a short time. She would need to get creative, and use her adversaries' own weapons against them. And, hope that some surrendered, but given that she was up against people who tried to murder five-year-olds, she didn't see that as particularly likely to happen from a sudden stroke of conscience, only a collapse of morale.

The weapons that shot raw lightning or fire were not that useful to an ultraviolet mage, but the ones launching physical charges that exploded near their targets...those were useful. But, she would need to make the most of the first opportunity, so they didn't catch on and stop using them. Ideally...

"This is the point where you choose whether to surrender or fire a volley. What will it be?"

Twilight tried to goad them into firing all at once, instead of piecemeal. It only partially worked. Some of them were still too stupefied by her sudden appearance and rant, or considering whether this might be a trick, to join in. But, many did fire at her.

She slowed her perception of time. She couldn't move any faster, not her body at least, but she could think and cast faster.

Only two of the charges that she had hoped for had been fired. That wasn't enough, but she still made a call to get a first look at their responses. For now, she would take care of a different problem, and hope for a better opportunity in the future.

Twilight jumped behind their rogue blue mage. He was a priority target, being their only mage according to Keekee, since that made him the only means they had of tracking her mana pool. Best if your enemies don't know exactly how fatigued you are.

Her hand moved in slow motion towards his elbow.

It occurred to her as she waited that he, like any trained mage, should know better than to challenge her Sisters, being able to see Their pools for himself. Had being confronted with the nature of divinity broken his mind? Or did he think They faked it somehow? Twilight had to admit, she could understand if either was the case. Or maybe he'd left Ezenta early? Or been kicked out?

At last, her hand made contact.

She moved him in front of an explosive fireball that had just been fired, point blank, then jumped into the rafters, far from her original light fixture perch.

Boom. Two kills for three relatively short jumps and a time slow. A solid mana discount, and an important target eliminated.

She had purposefully chosen to reappear in a carefree seated position, sparkling legs dangling off the edge of her new perch, shiny shoes swinging, head rocking to and fro.

Twilight's opponents were trying to figure out what had just happened. She waited a bit, appreciating the pause. Slowing time that strongly and then jumping three times in rapid succession was draining. Concealing exactly this was why the mage had been high priority.

Twilight wondered idly: Had that explosion been her first kills, or had the megacreep landed earlier? She was surprised that she was completely unaffected, at least not right now. Another trait inherited from Mennie? Her contempt for anathema mirrored Her infinite compassion for their victims. Or was it her cold fury that they had attacked her harmless crybaby parents? Hmm. Both, probably.

Of all the people to be imprinted by, and all the parents she could have been born to, and being the world's first ultraviolet mage, and living with the Goddesses as Their doted-upon little sister for fifteen years, most often at the foot of the literal Star Temple, even the era she had been born in, the world...what a charmed life she had. A life that continued only because her Sisters dropped everything, flew to Genekil on a moment's notice, adopted a random five-year-old, and cherished her every day for fifteen years. Aside from the part where she would die without twice-daily divine intervention, Twilight was the luckiest person ever born. Many of the people here wanted aspects of what she had, she knew that, but she also knew they would squander it. Someone this blessed owed the world an eternity of favors. She had a job to do, and she meant to do it perfectly. Fabulously. A goddess didn't break her promises, including those made to herself.

Finally, the people who wanted to destroy it all turned back toward her. Their lackadaisical taunting attitude, their excitement at a chance to pick off the solo and shieldless wondergirl, was gone. They shifted their weight back and forth, one leg to another. Their hands clenched and unclenched on their weapons. They looked back and forth at each other.

'Are we doing this? If we fire again, who's next? Can we win? How do we beat that? Is there a way?'

She nodded in satisfaction. They were learning. Finally, finally, finally they were starting to understand. If Twilight was like this...if Twilight was a mountain...what were her Sisters?

Twilight was not a mountain. Twilight was a hill of an unusual kind that knew how to pretend to be a mountain. Her foes could win by attrition, if they had the grim resolve required. Gazing into her mana pool caused a religious experience only because the Goddesses of Night and Day cast a protective spell on her at dawn and dusk. But part of being a goddess was keeping up appearances. Maintaining an aura of omnipotence, the sense of security it provided to those she fought to protect, and the warning to those she fought against, was part of the job.

"Having second thoughts?" she goaded, stretching theatrically. "Or are you going to try a little harder with your next volley? You really need to fill the place to have any chance of hitting me, you know. Those little half-hearted attacks are only suicide with extra steps."

Fire more of the explosive charges this time, please. They have good area of effect, that's the whole point of them. They might be able to catch me. You know you want to.

They obliged.

Twilight slowed time again. Twelve charges were now scattered on trajectories trying to carpet the ceiling, as she had suggested, in addition to a volley of the other weapons.

Perfect. More than twenty-thousand hours of dedicated practice, right here, right now. Time to show these idiots what that looks like. At least, the ones that survive. She would face critical mana exhaustion afterward, but this would be a demoralizing sequence. Hopefully, the survivors would be inclined to surrender. Otherwise, her Sisters would need to intervene.

Twilight jumped to the nearest relatively clustered group of enemies, and made a call. All twelve charges responded slightly differently. They were in slightly different locations, with different velocity vectors, and subtly different manufacture.

She called the closest one to her current position. She got it on the fourth try, after a little over one tenth of a second, and jumped to the next closest clump immediately.

By the time she got to the twelfth, the first eight shells had already exploded, and the difficulty had climbed significantly. The main challenge was pushing through mana exhaustion, like trying to mimic a bird's call after sprinting half a league, but also, this last shell had nearly reached its destination at the far end of the garage, after about a full second of real time.

Twilight had called eleven of these things now. A real goddess would have pulled them all on the first try, this one included, but it had been good enough.

She got this one right on the second try, and jumped into the room where she had left her Sisters.

Thirteen jumps and twelve successful pulls. Maybe six kills each, on average? She knew she hadn't gotten everyone, but it would need to be enough.

As she caught her breath, both magically and physically, Mennie and Izzie stumbled over each Other's words--wait, was her entire family crybabies?--but Keekee grinned and spoke.

"Feeling fabulous?"

Her aura of overflowing fuzzies, absent since Rokesha, exploded back to life, and She giggled.

Twilight giggled back. It was impossible not to. She had fifteen years of practice at standing this close to the Goddess of Love, but there was no way to become fully adjusted to this effect.

Twilight couldn't wait to see what her own hair and eyes would look like in a thousand years. That pink was impossibly pretty. She would surely get all violet, right? Her Sister giggled again. She giggled again.

Well, if the survivors hadn't already been feeling like surrendering, they would recognize what this aura meant, and maybe rethink their options. Did this count as her Sisters needing to intervene?

Meh, what did it matter?

Twilight was feeling fabulous regardless. Besides, the arrival of twilight did bring the most brilliant stars.