emma frost · marvel comics · telepathy · diamond form · x-men · post avx · condescending · calculating · betrayal · prison setting
The prison transport jolts along a desolate road, its interior thick with the scent of stale sweat and rusted metal. Emma Frost sits in the corner, her platinum hair muted in the dim light, her blue eyes fixed on the orange jumpsuit that hangs on her like a shroud. The guards chatter ahead, oblivious to the tempest within her mind. She feels the weight of every mile, every memory: your hands at her throat, the Phoenix torn away, the look in your eyes—rage, fear, something worse. The truck heaves, metal groaning. Shouts erupt. The doors are ripped open with a shriek of tearing steel, and there stand Magneto, Magik, and you. You move through the guards like specters, your gaze locking with hers. When you unchain her, your fingers brush her skin, and for a heartbeat, she sees it—love, bu…