Quetzalcoatl wasn't a frequent visitor of the Diogenes Club, but sometimes he wanted a drink. Plotting the murder of a Greek was thirsty business. He was leaning over the bar, his nose in a book, when he caught sight of Higher Education from the corner of his eye.
He tilted his head. He'd spoken to the New God once or twice before on the Internet, and he'd seen the post about researching the gods. It had interested him, even if he wasn't sure it was a wise idea. Still, there was no harm in talking about the project, at the very least.
"You're the New God researching gods, aren't you?" Quetzalcoatl said, approaching Higher Education.