Emma Frost's POV
Nearly two days had passed since Flag dragged us into the situation room, and the operation was well past the preparatory phase. We looked for every advantage we could find—mind-reading the housekeeper, his neighbors, and friends, spying on Hope Van Dyne, and tailing the old man for days.
Gary thought he seemed perfectly ordinary, but the rest of us recognized a predator when we saw one. The constant vigilance, the cadence of his walk, and even his expression seemed off. I suggested we make our approach at a park, and Flag agreed, so we found ourselves parked across the street from Hope Van Dyne's office.
Rick deactivated my collar long enough for me to push Hope to set a meeting at Grace Memorial Park. It was a special place in both of their hearts. It was where Hank used to bring Hope when she was younger, before her mother's disappearance.
That was why it was so easy to push her. She secretly wanted to relive those days, however imperfectly. I expected Hank's guard to be lower as well. It should make it easier to slip into his mind. The unfamiliar scenery also meant the Widow that might or might not be watching Pym wouldn't notice us immediately.
Or at least, that was what Flag thought. In reality, I'd taken steps to make sure she'd find us, no matter what. My physical eyes drifted to Gary, who was hunched over his computer, typing away. It'd been child's play getting into his mind during one of our many spying missions, despite the implants they placed in his brain stem.
The Widow would receive a tip shortly before the attack, giving her enough time to put an end to the mission, hopefully kill Flag, and rescue us from SHIELD's clutches.
It wasn't the best plan I'd ever concocted, but it was plenty impressive considering my timeline.
So, you could only imagine my surprise when I turned around after I finished the push, only to find somebody in Hope's Mindscape applauding me.
Dante Sparda stood in front of me, wearing a jean jacket, a T-shirt, and some loose pants.
"You're really good. Like, scary good," he said. "See, I would've burned through twice as much demonic energy trying to do that, not that I even have experience with that kind of soft telepathy."
"How did you find out?"
"We've known about the World Council's little side project for weeks," he said. "Jean can find your mind imprint in the Astral Realm, even when you have your collar on."
"Doesn't that mean she's always tapped into the Astral Realm?" I wondered aloud, slightly horrified by the news. He gave me a look that said it all.
Right.
She was Omega-level. Charles Xavier was the upper tier of Alpha-level, and what he'd been able to achieve was absolutely terrifying. Jean Grey had killed him with no effort at all. I had no real frame of reference for her theoretical limit, or his; nobody did.
I've understood that intellectually for months, but getting confronted by it was something else altogether.
"Why show yourself now?" I asked. "You could've just kept watching. Warned Hank of our presence. Alerted your Avengers. Or have your Widow act."
"All true. But then I wouldn't get to have this conversation."
My mind worked frantically. "You need a person on the inside, feeding you information about SHIELD."
He smiled. "Right again, Miss Frost. See, this is why I asked Rin to spare you. Far too brilliant to waste."
My mind rattled at the memory. Rin had torn through the Hellfire Club like wet tissue paper. I couldn't tell if he was lying when he said he'd stay the boy's hand.
Either way, it was certainly effective. I was properly intimidated by the fact that he'd hijacked my mind push. I was grateful that I could keep my thoughts from him, at least.
"Flattery will get you nowhere with me," I said sharply. "What do I get in return for playing spy?" I knew I was pushing my luck. Back when I occupied a seat in the Hellfire Club, I would've lobotomized people for less. But if not now, when could I ever be bold?
"Your freedom and the lives of the other mutants don't do it for you?" he asked.
"No," I said frankly. "I don't run a charity, and neither do you."
"Don't you watch the news?" he asked. "I'm the vision of generosity."
I wondered if he was referring to the miracles that'd been happening all over the world. It was mostly concentrated in South America, Africa, and parts of Asia for now, but it was slowly spreading. Somebody was healing people of cancer, regrowing limbs, restoring sight, and curing sickness—mundane and impossible.
Everybody who's been touched said the same thing. They felt a white light and were overwhelmed with the sensation that everything was going to be alright. The locals thought it was God or an Angel, but everybody who was anybody knew it was probably Dante. Nobody else was powerful or reckless enough.
Or maybe he meant New York by his crack about generosity. I'd finally caught the news of what happened. He'd reversed time, saving the city and state billions in construction costs and months of work.
"You might fool the masses, and even some of the people you've recruited, but you don't fool me," I declared. "You're sanitizing your image. This has to do with whatever you've got planned for SHIELD, doesn't it?"
He raised his palm and produced a ring. It was made from vibranium and covered in runes. It was unlike any of his previous work. It was downright unremarkable.
"What if I tossed this in? Sweeten the deal?" He floated it over to me. "It has a handful of interesting runes. The first one lets you communicate with me telepathically. The second can heal you to perfect health, and the third renders you immune to all mutant suppression devices, and the fourth gives you telekinesis."
My eyes went wide.
"I imagine somebody with your talents and disposition understands how valuable this tool is."
My mouth clicked open and shut. It was the most powerful thing Dante Sparda has ever made, but the care he'd taken in choosing the runes made me reassess him. The boy had my number. He was playing a game, and he wanted me to be his pawn.
And yet what choice did I truly have? He'd manipulated the situation to make sure it was impossible to refuse him. I almost admired the cunning. It was something I would've done.
"It's yours, if you want it."
And I did. I felt the ring appear on my real body, materializing out of thin air. I swallowed.
"Naturally, the ring is not all-powerful. It draws energy from you. Since you're an Alpha-level mutant, you don't have much to worry about. But switching abilities can get very taxing very quickly," he said. "And, oh, the telekinesis and mutant suppression features are disabled for now. Win my trust, and then we can talk."
"What's your endgame?" I asked him.
"To make SHIELD pay," he said simply. "Feels great to be on the same side, doesn't it?"
I looked down at the ring again. I'd envied Magneto when I heard about his armor, but now… He'd multiplied my powers by several folds, all with a nondescript ring. SHIELD had no idea who they were up against, did they?
"I have one more request," I said, and he smiled. It was warm and genuine.
"Your family is safe," he said. "They were out of New York when the demons came."
I nodded appreciatively.
"Take care of yourself, Frost," he said. "I'll be in touch."
He snapped his fingers, and I was back in my body, my breathing slightly rough. My collar hummed to life again, and the noises in my head quieted down.
"Well?" Flag demanded, staring me straight in the eyes. "Did you do it?"
I took a moment to respond.
"It's done," I said. "Hank Pym will be in the park on Friday."
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