"I am a god-emperor," says Kirovalin. "My acolytes and manifestations share disease immunities with anyone they touch. Lifespan extension sounds... very intriguing."

"Thank you. Disease immunity sharing's clever," she compliments. "How'd you become god-emperor?"

"Bad luck."

"I might as well explain," he sighs. "I came up on the continent of Irahali in the shadow of an enormous plague god who was starting to feel the scarcity of living followers. That's why I chose the power I did. With my acolytes' help, the remaining mortals in and near his terrain ceased to fear him, and he went out fast after that. I moved into a corner of his former territory and did the best I could with it. But I soon noticed that most mortal rulers were... less helpful than they could have been. I asked my followers if they would prefer a god-king to the mortal variety, and they said yes."

She nods. "Reasonable. Where does the bad luck come in?"

"Being a god-king turned out to suit me very well, and I was a little too successful. Some of the younger gods nearby tried to clean me out, failed, and died. My neighbours of both the divine and the mortal variety found themselves losing followers and subjects to me at what they considered an alarming rate. If a country tried to conquer me or a god tried to wipe me out, and they failed badly enough, their people would need looking after; I kept expanding. And eventually I ran out of places to expand to. I maintain a strict policy of claiming no land on any continent but my own, these days. I don't want to start the cycle up again somewhere else."

"Ah. I'm sorry. That does sound like some awful bad luck. Combined with some... Less than understanding neighbors."

"Yes."

"I'm still pretty new, for a god. Only a couple hundred years old. I uh, hope I don't run into those problems."

"I hope the same," he says. "I advise that if you're ever tempted to become a god-queen, you think very carefully about how your neighbours will react. I don't exactly regret my empire - I think I can do much more good for many more people this way - but I wish I'd been able to come to it more peacefully. And I very much wish I'd been able to peacefully coexist with - any other gods at all."

"I have embassies. My acolytes collect and distribute disease immunities in as many places as possible. I have holy artifacts in dozens of foreign ports. But I am generally very careful not to intrude on anyone's domain, unless I need to sail a ship through it, and then I have my diplomats make offerings as they pass."

"That works too. As cute as the pen pal idea would be."

"It would be cute," he agrees. "I do in fact have bird manifestations, too."

She snickers. "Just think, you're a set of writing utensils and one godly pen pal away from something really adorable and also a huge waste in resources."

"I could afford it," he says. "My population broke three hundred million this century."

"Large. Large enough to comfortably hold three hundred million people. And I have some unclaimed ocean to expand into if I need it, but I try to avoid that wherever possible."

"Or making an ocean god feel uncomfortably crowded."

"That, too. Thank you for being a nice god-emperor."

"I do my best."

"And if it makes you feel any better, I am willing to be godly penpals with you."

"Thank you. Where should I send my bird manifestation?"