Camelot's rise in Marvel

The journey out of the great white city was much quicker than the journey in. Soon, all four of them were out; the great gates opened as they approached and closed behind them.

With the cat already out of the bag, Natasha decided not to return with the others.

Instead, she prepared to report back to SHIELD.

She got into her car, quickly removing a hidden camera from her clothes. The tiny device had recorded everything for further analysis.

The camera connected to her laptop in the passenger seat, and the data began uploading. Natasha tapped her earpiece. "This is Agent Romanoff; I have a report for Director Fury."

"This is Agent Romanoff, I have a report for Director Fury." She dialed quickly, sharing the necessary information. Moments later, a projector illuminated the car with the faces of Fury, Coulson, and Maria Hill.

"Romanoff," Fury's sharp voice cut through, "you'd better have something valuable because the security council is pressuring me for answers."

Natasha reclined in her seat, arms crossed. "I do have something—less than I wanted and not as good as we hoped, but it's something, alright."

"Is it really Camelot?" Coulson exclaimed, unable to contain his curiosity.

The others turned to him, and he appeared slightly sheepish about his outburst.

"Well, I suppose we should start there. Romanoff, is it Camelot or something else?"

"It is Camelot, sir, the city of King Arthur and all that." She paused, glancing at the upload status. Describing the splendor she witnessed was difficult. The details were clear in her mind, yet the overall grandeur was nearly impossible to convey.

"I have an uplink here; let's get some visuals up so you can see what I saw." She quickly worked on the laptop, pulling up the recording.

Adding yet another screen into the compact car interior as the recorded footage began to play.

The screen displayed the towering white walls as her group slowly and peacefully approached them, the massive door towering ahead. As they drew nearer, the enormous door began to open, welcoming them inside.

Fury and the others got their first glimpse of what lay beyond those walls, though only from above, which didn't do it justice.

Ten figures stood ready to greet them—eight identical hulking knights in blue and silver armor, wielding melee weapons, arranged in a row behind two other figures.

The differences were stark. Yet, as Natasha examined the footage, she noticed it was blurred, rendering Mordred's features—hair and eye color—completely indistinguishable.

Despite Natasha having seen him clearly in person, she mused, "It's odd; the footage appears corrupted. There were no issues during my visit."

Fury leaned closer, narrowing his one good eye at the screen. "We'll have the tech team examine it, but for now, let's get a verbal description."

Natasha was doubtful the footage could be salvaged. The corruption was limited to Mordred's face—suggesting something more was at play. But she kept this to herself, knowing Fury likely suspected it too.

"Yes, sir." She straightened, giving her report with precision.

"Sir Mordred appeared youthful, with wild blond hair in a short ponytail and green eyes.

It's hard to estimate age, but he looked young—possibly a teenager or in his early twenties, similar to Sir Bedivere. Notably, he had some feminine traits, possibly suggesting he could be female, though I find that unlikely."

Fury nodded, still staring at the blurred face on the screen. "Despite the unlikelihood, it's worth noting the potential. Good work."

"Yes, sir." Natasha continued the playback, revealing the moment Sir Richard mentioned Mordred's well-known rebellion against his king.

The group watched intently as Mordred reacted strongly, and it was clear that the topic was sensitive.

"Interesting," Fury remarked, though his mind was occupied with possibilities for exploiting that knowledge.

"I couldn't decipher much from that, so we'll need more information before reaching any conclusions." Natasha recognized Fury's unspoken thoughts despite only hearing one word from him.

Continuing the playback, Natasha revealed the group entering the city. The pristine streets and towering buildings elicited a low whistle from Coulson.

"Impressive," he said. "It's like stepping into a legend."

"More than that," Natasha replied softly. "It's perfect. Too perfect. No signs of wear or decay, no people—just knights. It feels more symbolic than actual city."

Hill frowned. "A symbol of what?"

"Perfection," Natasha answered calmly. "Look at it; that city wasn't constructed by human hands; it's too immaculate. It represents a goal, an ideal to strive for—a grand assertion that the king's reign will achieve perfection."

Fury's expression darkened as he considered her words. "And the knights? What's your evaluation?"

"Challenging; while the two knights are relatively easy to interpret, the others in blue? They don't behave like humans—just observe their movements, they seem too precise, almost robotic," Natasha remarked, noting another of her discoveries.

Fury leaned in, narrowing his single eye as he examined the footage. The blue-armored knights exhibited an unsettling, mechanical precision; their every movement was perfectly synchronized, and their stances were eerily identical. "So, you're suggesting they aren't human?"

Natasha shook her head. "Not precisely, sir. They didn't appear entirely non-living, but their behavior was... unusual. They remained silent, unresponsive, and showed no unique characteristics. It's as though they exist solely for a single function."

Coulson frowned. "Like constructs? Perhaps golems?"

"Or robots. We shouldn't overlook technology simply because it seems improbable, but I believe Coulson is onto something," Fury cautioned, reminding them to consider all possibilities, regardless of how unlikely.

Natasha agreed. "Maybe. I didn't detect anything overtly mechanical, yet they don't behave like humans. Their presence is intimidating, but not in the manner of a soldier or trained guard. It's their stillness that's unsettling. It feels deliberate, as if they exist to disconcert you."

Fury narrowed his eye at the screen. "Disconcerting or not, it's effective. A force that doesn't require rest, sustenance, or show weakness is a logistical dream. If that's the case, we need to ask: how many are there, and can they be replaced?"

"As for the city," he continued, "I would be surprised if humans constructed it, given that it appeared suddenly. But I suppose that rules out the time travel theory."

Natasha nodded at Fury's insight. "Yes, sir. Time travel seems unlikely. This isn't a city transported from history; it's constructed. Everything is intentional—from the layout of buildings to the pristine condition of the streets, even the lack of wear on the banners... All of it indicates recent construction."

Natasha resumed the playback, rewinding slightly to provide context for her next observations.

"The banners," Natasha noted, pausing the footage. She zoomed in on a banner hanging from a high archway, its gold-threaded symbol shimmering in the sunlight. "There are no signs of fraying or discoloration. Either they were erected yesterday, or they don't deteriorate. Both scenarios offer insights."

Hill tilted her head. "What about the emblems? Are they meaningful?"

"They're uniform," Natasha said, resuming the playback at a slower pace. "The same symbols are repeated everywhere: lions, crowns, swords. The visual imagery conveys authority, unity, and power. There's no variation, no personal heraldry apart from what the knights bear."

"That aligns with the King's representation," Coulson remarked thoughtfully. "They're conveying a specific ideal. There's no space for personal identity; everything supports a singular vision."

"Exactly," Natasha responded, zooming out as the footage showed a market square. "And this concept extends to the city's design. This isn't a natural layout. All the streets are too straight, every structure too symmetrical. It resembles a blueprint made real."

Hill's frown deepened. "No signs of life, though."

"None," Natasha confirmed. "No citizens, merchants, or families. Just knights. It doesn't feel abandoned; it seems to be anticipating something. Or perhaps it's never had anyone aside from knights."

Fury drummed his fingers on the desk. "There could be many reasons—perhaps they can't create people... but that doesn't explain the knights. At least the two we see are alive; there's potential for people to come? Or it might just be empty, waiting for regular English citizens to inhabit it."

Natasha reflected on Fury's remark as she resumed the footage, capturing more of the city's spotless streets and eerily vacant squares. "That's a possibility," she said pensively. "The city might be a shell, a backdrop for something bigger. If it's intended for people, they either haven't arrived yet, or the King plans to gradually attract them."

Hill crossed her arms, wearing a skeptical expression. "If that's the case, why begin with knights? Why not feature citizens to strengthen the vision?"

Coulson leaned in, his focus locked on the screen. "Knights align with the narrative. They emphasize Camelot as a symbol of order and strength. Citizens would complicate that portrayal—too many variables."

Fury interjected, his calm voice carrying weight. "So we have a perfect city, devoid of people, and knights who may or may not be human. What else is notable?"

Natasha advanced the footage slightly, halting at the point the delegation walked through the artisan market. She zoomed in on the intricately carved signs hanging over the empty stalls. "The market. No vendors, no merchandise, yet the craftsmanship is stunning. Every detail holds significance, even in its lack of purpose."

Hill frowned. "Why have a market if there's nothing to sell?"

"Because commerce isn't the main focus," Natasha explained. "It's about showcasing potential. The market might be inactive now, but it prompts you to envision what it could become. It's an invitation, a promise of prosperity under the King's reign."

Coulson raised an eyebrow. "An empty promise?"

"Not necessarily," Natasha replied, her tone steady. "If they aim to integrate into modern England—or replace it—they're laying a foundation. A city that appears poised to thrive is far more attractive than one that's unfinished or chaotic."

Fury leaned back, reflecting. "So the city is more than just a statement. It's bait."

"Exactly," Natasha confirmed, moving the footage to the next important scene. "And the audience it aims to attract isn't just the citizens of England. It's anyone who sees this and thinks, 'This is what the world could be.' It's not merely a city—it's grand-scale propaganda."

"They don't require assistance with propaganda," Fury said grimly. "The UK has propagated Arthur's legend for centuries; everyone knows the name, understands what he represents, they simply need validation, and that city provides it."

Natasha grimaced at his words, fully aware of their truth; the most troubling aspect was that the people of Camelot sought to rule, and she had no doubt that the people of England felt a sense of connection to Camelot.

"The King doesn't need to win over the people," she said carefully. "They're capitalizing on something inherent—the legend, the nostalgia, the notion of a 'better' era. Camelot signifies more than a location; it embodies a concept."

Hill leaned in, her demeanor tightening. "And the populace will devour it. An ideal city, gallant knights, a fair and noble King—it's a fantasy that politicians can't rival. But fantasies crumble in the face of reality."

"This will be quite a challenge," Fury agreed.

"I don't envy you, boss," Natasha remarked, drawing smiles from the others.

"I'll find ways to make it your headache too," Fury retorted before letting Natasha proceed.

Natasha moved the footage back to the market square, where the delegation had stopped to gaze at the central fountain. The statue of the boy extracting the sword from the stone dominated the scene, its brilliant white stone and lifelike details capturing everyone's interest again.

"This was one of the more significant symbols," Natasha commented, pausing the video to allow everyone to see the classic legend of the boy pulling the sword from the stone.

"Younger than I expected," Coulson observed.

"We thought similarly; he appears much simpler, no armor, merely a boy," Natasha added her thoughts.

Hill scrutinized the image on the screen, her keen eyes narrowing. "It's a striking portrayal. Stripped of elegance, it renders him relatable. Not yet a King, just a boy stepping into his fate. People will see their own reflections—or their children's—in him."

"I think you're mistaken," Coulson interjected, drawing everyone's focus. "I mean, we might be overanalyzing this. These are ancient knights, not propaganda experts; they're likely recounting real events rather than concocting tales. Remember, they hail from that era; they're not rewriting history but revitalizing it."

Natasha reclined slightly, contemplating Coulson's perspective. "You're suggesting this isn't deliberate? That it's merely... authenticity?"

Coulson affirmed. "Precisely. We're projecting contemporary notions of propaganda onto them. If they truly originate from that age, they wouldn't consider things in those terms. This isn't a manufactured message—it's a preserved memory."

 (done and dusted!)

So, this doesn't offer much new, though we do get details, we see how Natasha works, what details she noted, and we get to see what someone who thinks the worst of any situation sees of this situation.