Random art
Two hours ago.
Emma stood by the window and enjoyed her first dose of coffee while observing the ever-busy New York through the floor-to-ceiling window of her penthouse study.
Behind her, the maid Blanche read the Frost International daily report in a calm voice.
"Technology division up four percent. Telecommunications holding steady. And the overall stock position—" Blanche took a dramatic pause. "Thirty-one percent above last quarter's closing figure."
Emma took a sip and smiled.
Blanche swiped on the tablet resting on her arm. "The analysts are attributing the majority of the movement to the WSJ interview yesterday. He mentioned your name twice."
"I'm aware of it."
One interview and two mentions of her name in passing, and her enterprise's valuation spiked by a huge thirty percent in value. Skullfire was a phenomenon. The skull, the glowing sun in his chest, the flames, and the black armor—millions loved every bit of him. Millions disliked his image, which, as any publicist would confirm, was functionally equivalent to love in terms of generating attention. Half the parents in Manhattan didn't want Skullfire posters in their children's rooms.
Thanks to his limelight, everyone who had fought against symbiotes had grown insanely popular. Everyone with a face or a costume, at least.
"Give me his approval numbers."
Blanche turned a page. "Favorabilty are sixty-two percent. Unfavorability at thirty-one. Remainder undecided."
"The unfavorable thirty-one," Emma said. "What's driving it?"
"Parental concern groups, primarily. Several editorial pieces from family-oriented publications citing the skull imagery as…" Blance paused to clear her throat. "quote, an unsuitable object of admiration for developing minds."
Emma looked at her reflection in the glass. Still looking glamorous. "What does his merchandise sales say about it?"
She had capitalized on his popularity already by selling everyone's merchandise, including Logan's. She had, of course, taken everyone's consent first hand at the celebration. A part of the sales profit would be given back to them as well.
Blanche checked her tablet. "This morning's batch is already sold out. The production of Skullfire and his Bride's merch can't keep up with the demand."
Emma let out a short chuckle. The man who threatened to kill her in her very territory was the biggest reason for Frost International's growth—the irony was just brilliant.
She finished her coffee and set the cup on the tray Blanche materialized behind her with perfect timing.
"His gravitational field is extraordinary. Everything in his orbit accelerates." She smiled. "Make a note. I want a full analysis of the brand association effect on Frost International by the end of week. Specifically, what happens to our numbers if his public profile continues on this trajectory."
"Noted."
"And what happens to our numbers if it doesn't," she added. "I want both scenarios."
Emma turned around and straightened her cuffs. "Report on the Club's movements."
The symbiote crisis had consumed her attention entirely recently. The Hellfire Club had been operating without her close eye, which she now intended to correct.
Blanche was already on the move. "Nothing unusual, Miss Frost. Standard operations."
"That's good."
Emma rolled her shoulders once, and Blanche settled her white coat across her shoulder and smoothed the collars. All without making a single sound.
"Where is Psy?"
"She went to the X-Men's facilities to train."
That made Emma smirk. The loss at Dante's hands had curbed Psylocke's complacency. She had come out of that loss with a ravenous hunger to refine her techniques and grow stronger. Or it could be Psylocke's last stretch before she staked it all on her revenge saga. A saga with either Psylocke or the Hand's end in its final chapter.
'Either way, it's good.'
She flipped her wrist to check time on her watch. "My schedule."
Blanche consulted her tablet. "The Oberon Security Technologies buyout meeting—the one regarding their AI surveillance division. Blanc handled the final negotiations this morning. It's done."
Emma nodded in appreciation. The acquisition had been in motion for three months. The conclusion of it freed her entire afternoon.
"I'm free then. I might as well visit Silvija."
This time, it wasn't for any business. The people she had fought beside over the past weeks had no ulterior motives she could identify. They were good people. It wouldn't be a waste of time to continue a friendly relationship with them.
She had just stepped out of the door when her phone screen lit up in her hand. She glanced at it and stopped.
[Unknown: Your students are in danger.]
Emma rolled her eyes. "A new scam tactic. These people are getting creative."
The phone lit again.
[Unknown: Emma Frost, take this seriously or lose the Hellions.
— Someone you definitely know]
Just the mention of mutants made it clear that this person knew of her students and possibly her association with the club.
'Who is targeting me?'
Usually, she would've ignored this as she could rely on her Telepathy to deal with any threats to her life. That wasn't the case anymore with many having complete immunity to her mind control. Her first thought—which something she berated herself for—was calling Dante. They had no active alliance. He wasn't due back for another day. Besides, she was Emma Frost. She did not call men to handle her problems.
'I can take care of some buffoons targeting my children.'
So she stood in the hallway, thinking of people who wanted revenge on her. The answer was deeply unhelpful: the list of people with sufficient motive to target her students as leverage was far too long.
In her life, she had trampled upon many. And even more would follow suit because survival in this world required one to be ruthless.
She brushed the smooth sleeve of her coat. "Blanche, get a chopper ready. I'm going to the academy."
"Right away, Miss."
***
Soon, she landed back at the academy and immediately sought out the students. Surprisingly, all of them were working hard in the training room.
Empath moved through a focused sequence in the center of the room, wearing the custom neural helmet. Frost International's latest development was built specifically to sharpen his focus, which would lead to better usage of his psychic powers.
Roulette hurled discs around targets to improve her throwing techniques.
Jetstream zoomed through right below the ceiling to improve his overall coordination.
Tarot sat cross-legged on the floor, materializing and dissolving her cards in continuous cycles.
And Sharon—Catseye—was a purple blur around the training dummies in the corner facility. She always had the raw instinct. The combat against the symbiotes had changed her the most. Sharon had emerged with the clearest sense of what she was working toward.
Emma crossed to her tablet and pulled up the dormitory cameras.
Angelica sat by her window, absentmindedly stroking through the mane of the horse named Butter Rum. She looked sad and lonely, which had been Emma's plan to keep herself as the emotional pillar in Angelica's life.
'I should stop grooming her for the club.'
She had a favor with Dante to kill Selene anyway and another in the pocket for someone else. It would be more beneficial to let Angelica grow her mutant powers and become a powerhouse. No need to turn Angelica into an assassin or an object of power for the Club. She could just be Angelica, a Hellion.
Her phone beeped twice..
[Unknown: Don't say nobody warned you.]
[Unknown: You will regret this.]
Emma's patience reached its limit. She pulled up her contacts, found the person most likely responsible for these prank messages, and tapped it.
The call was answered in an instant.
"Stop messing with me, Cat."
"Wha—?" Felicia's voice came through confused. "What are you talking about? I've been with Gwen all morning."
A pause, and then the slight softening in her voice that she used when something had shifted from banter to concern. "You should see what we've been up to, honestly. But—Emma, what happened? Do you need help?"
Emma fell silent. If Felicia had been responsible for the texts, she would've been smug about it while enjoying every moment of the process.
"What happened, Emma? Do you need help? Darling isn't here, but we all are."
The question touched a soft part in her heart. Felicia seemed ready to help her out without asking anything in return, despite knowing her inhumane power to read minds.
They trusted her.
"It's alright. I'll speak with you later."
Emma hung up and stood there, watching her students train for another minute. "Children, come to me."
The Hellions finished the motion they were mid-way through before turning, which she approved of. Sharon padded over last and pressed herself against Emma's shin. Before she jumped on the table and looked at everyone with her amber eyes.
Emma looked at each face in turn. All of them seemed eager as though Emma would reward them for working hard.
Her heart softened. She had recruited them to create pieces for the Inner Circle and spite the X-Men. All of them turned out to be good children, even if they fought and bullied each other at times.
"We're going on a holiday," she said. "Follow me."
"Where?" Roulette asked excitedly. "Are we going somewhere actually good?"
Sharon's ears perked. "Dante's home? Emma promised Catseye."
"Honestly?" Roulette grinned, looking around at the others for support. "I wouldn't object. He is a pretty chill guy."
Tarot nodded after some consideration. "It doesn't hurt that he is publicly the strongest person known. Some mutants may be stronger still."
Jetstream rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm gonna ask him for some flight tips. His speed and control are leagues above mine."
Emma didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Every single one of them had concluded that Dante's apartment was the ideal vacation destination. She would've hundred percent bothered him if he was still in Manhattan. Unfortunately, he had gone somewhere, Silvija and Felicia had been evasively unhelpful about where.
"We'll go to Dante's place later. Today, hot springs."
Emma had grown fond of Japanese culture because of Psylocke. Hot springs would be a great place to relax after everything that happened recently.
"Hot spring?" Manuel grinned at Roulette, or rather, at her chest. "Finally get to see some titties."
Roulette flipped her middle finger at him. "You fucking pervert. I'll end you."
"I'm kidding. Who even wants to see your ugly body?" Manuel held his hands up innocently then glanced at Tarot. "Marie-Ange on the other hand…"
"I'm not concerned about anyone staring," Tarot said calmly before flashing her tarot deck. "As long as you take any action."
Roulette put a hand around Tarot's shoulder. "Just stick with me, girl. I'll take care of him."
"Bitch," Empath whispered.
***
Without Psylocke, Blanc, or Blanche to chauffeur, Emma took the wheel herself.
The limo moved through the mid-morning Massachusetts at a slow pace. The partition between driver and passage was lowered so their voices could reach her.
The Hellions had gone back to their usual dynamics.
'This is not bad.'
Honestly, she felt like a woman driving her children somewhere they were going to enjoy. It wasn't a terrible feeling.
The noise that arrived a moment later turned her bout of happiness into confusion. It was a mechanical rumble like an aircraft except it seemed a little too close for a flying vehicle.
The kids began moving around as they couldn't see anything past the privacy side windows.
Nothing visible in the strip of sky.
Emma adjusted the mirror angle and a huge shape filled every corner of the glass. She heard a loud rumble right behind her.
The humanoid-shaped giant machine grabbed the car and threw it.
Emma heard the children's voices so far yet so distant. She heard glass shatter. She heard the thud of her own body meeting the door frame.
Then a loud collision.
***
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