Why are there so many gods here???

Banquet, but Nobody Gets to Eat

"You are..." Dokja started.

"What? Don't you recognize me?" the glass responded. Cale briefly wondered if the voice was created with this world's magic, as it would explain both the source of it and why it sounded so strange.

Dokja sat down, leaning closer to the glass. "Dionysus?"

The glass gave off blue sparks as it jolted slightly, upsetting the wine within. As it settled, the dark red liquid swirled enticingly. Dionysus and Dokja spoke, but Cale ignored them, reaching his hand toward the stem of the wine glass.

Right before his hand made contact, the glass floated back, and Dionysus spoke in an incredulous tone. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Don't mind me," Cale said, hiding his hand behind his back.

"Were you trying to grab me?"

Oh, dear. Dionysus sounded upset. How interesting.

"How do you taste, God of Wine?" Cale asked, sitting down across from Dokja and the constellation.

The glass flew back, expressing shock surprisingly well for an object. "Excuse me?!"

Dokja looked similarly bewildered.

"As the God of Alcohol, and ecstasy I suppose, one would think that the wine symbolizing you would be the best in all of the universes. Am I wrong?"

Dionysus paused. "Well, obviously, but that doesn't mean you can drink it! I can't even drink it, since I can only be in one form at once!"

"Maybe you can find a way to summon it."

Cale sat back, leaving Dionysus to distract himself from his crisis by conversing with Dokja. Their conversation was quite entertaining. Dokja had gone to the Underworld for some reason, and Dionysus was... interested... in his own mother. Oh, and Dionysus wanted to team up with Dokja for some reason.

Apparently the two of them had been summoned so a glass of wine could ask Dokja about his sexuality.

Well, not really, but the carriage got rammed into before the annoying secrets could be revealed. How convenient.

Dionysus told Dokja not to trust anyone... if Dokja would have actually trusted someone at this random fancy dinner party of gods, Cale would eat the God of Mischief's wooden toucan hat.

Cale would used Sound of the Wind to fly leisurely above Dokja, who seemed to be running for his life, as they headed toward the lavish building in the middle of cloudy nowhere.

When they finally arrived at the doors, there was a dokkaebi guard with either a very strange hairstyle or one of the British guard furry hats. Cale wanted to laugh.

"We came to join the banquet."

The dokkaebi gave him a look. "What? I wasn't told of two incarnations coming to the banquet without an escort."

"Let them in," called a voice with the same off quality as Dionysus's. "They're with me."

The door opened, and they saw a man with the strangest armor Cale had ever seen. He was wearing giant medal pauldrons with less than half of his abdomen covered by a weird metal circle belt.

"The Great Sage, Heaven's Equal!"

Dokja appeared to be fanboying. Sure, the man was attractive, but Cale had seen many people at and above this level in the past few years.

As Cale landed, he almost stumbled when he saw Dokja start running inside. Why? It would take five seconds to walk that distance. Dokja's existential crisis must be taking longer than expected.