***
Mythological, Mount Olympus
*CRACK!*
The emergency projection chamber materialized in Olympus's grand hall.
Not gradually.
Just snapped into existence with crystalline clarity that made dimensional distance feel like a polite suggestion reality was temporarily ignoring, magical arrays humming with power required to maintain multi-continent communication.
King Arthur's image stood at perfect resolution.
Close enough to count the stress lines around his eyes, the way his legendary composure cracked at the edges like overworked glass, one hand resting on Excalibur's hilt with white-knuckle grip that suggested he wanted to hit something but lacked acceptable targets.
Around him, the assembled council looked equally strained.
Thor paced with barely contained fury, each step making marble crack sympathetically.
