Ethan's lips parted slightly, though no sound came out immediately as his mind sprinted through ten different terrible ideas that all seemed equally fatal in their own creative ways. If he said something specific, they might question him and expose everything instantly, but if he said nothing at all, they might also question him and expose everything slightly faster.
"…Amazing," he thought grimly, "two options, both leading directly to death, truly a well-designed scenario with excellent balance."
He considered greeting them, immediately rejected it, then briefly thought about asking what was going on before realizing that would end his life on the spot. For a dangerous moment, he even considered bluffing confidence with something grand and decisive, but his brain refused to supply anything that wouldn't immediately collapse under basic scrutiny.
"…Okay," he decided, forcing his thoughts into something resembling strategy, "no specifics, no details, no commitments, just say something that sounds important and let them deal with it."
His expression did not change as the silence stretched, yet something about that pause felt deliberate, controlled, almost oppressive in its weight. Every god in the hall watched him, unmoving, waiting for words that none of them dared to interrupt.
"The matter… is understood."
The words were simple, calm, and dangerously empty of actual meaning, yet the moment they left his mouth, the atmosphere shifted in a way Ethan absolutely did not intend. Several figures subtly relaxed as if reassured, while others straightened further, as though bracing for something inevitable.
"…Wait," Ethan thought, confusion cutting through his panic, "why do they look like I just confirmed something incredibly important."
A tall, armored general stepped forward without hesitation, bowing his head slightly as he spoke with firm certainty. "Then, as expected, Your Majesty has already perceived the disturbance along the outer boundary of Vanaheim and the instability spreading from the lesser realms."
Ethan's brain paused. "I'm sorry," he thought blankly, "the what of where is doing what now."
Outwardly, however, he remained still, his gaze steady and unreadable, as if everything being said was merely confirmation of knowledge he had possessed long before this meeting began.
The hall seemed to accept this without question, the flow of information continuing naturally, almost eagerly.
"The fluctuations have grown more erratic over the past cycles," another figure added, voice low but urgent, "yet we held position, awaiting Your Majesty's will before taking action."
Something clicked in Ethan slowly, dangerously and beautifully. "Oh," Ethan realized, his thoughts sharpening with sudden clarity, "oh this is completely broken."
They weren't waiting for him to explain anything they were literally explaining for him.
"They think I already know," he continued internally, a strange mix of disbelief and relief forming, "they're literally filling in the gaps for me because they assume I'm ahead of them."
From the side, Loki's gaze lingered just a fraction longer than the others, his expression thoughtful, curious, and far too observant for Ethan's comfort. There was no accusation there, not yet, but there was definitely interest.
...Yep," Ethan thought, a brief surge of panic flashing through him before being forced into stillness, "the God of Mischief is thinking, and that cannot possibly lead anywhere good."
The general remained waiting, the entire hall once again falling into silence as they expected Odin's response to what was apparently a very real and very serious situation. Ethan did not understand the situation, the context, or even half of the words that had just been said.
But he understood one thing now he did not need to understand. "…Right," he decided carefully, "say something that sounds wise, says nothing specific, and lets them interpret it however they want."
He let a brief pause form again, just long enough to feel intentional, before speaking in the same calm, measured tone. "Act… but do not rush."
The moment the words settled into the hall, the atmosphere shifted again, not violently this time, but with a subtle, undeniable weight that pressed down on everyone present.
Voices lowered instinctively, postures adjusted, and the tension realigned itself around him as if his words had given shape to their next course of action.
Ethan blinked internally. "…Why is that working," he thought, equal parts impressed and horrified, "that meant absolutely nothing."
"It is as the All-Father wills," the general said immediately, bowing deeper, "we will observe further movements and force them to reveal their intent before committing our strength."
Others nodded in agreement, some visibly reassured, others sharpening with renewed focus, each interpreting his vague statement in their own way yet somehow arriving at a unified conclusion. The plan was forming itself without him having to actually create it.
"…This is insane," Ethan thought, his panic now shifting into something far more controlled and dangerously hopeful, "I don't need to act like Odin."
He leaned back slightly into the throne, letting the silence return once more, this time not as an accident, but as a choice. The hall obeyed that silence instantly, every presence aligning around him as if it were the most natural thing in existence.
"I just need them to believe I already am."
Inside, the tension had not disappeared, but it had changed, refined into something sharper, more focused, more usable. He was still completely unqualified, still dangerously uninformed, and still one mistake away from disaster.
But now "…Okay," Ethan thought, watching them follow his words without hesitation, "this might actually be survivable."