The silence stretched between them, their hands still clasped in the center of a room full of death. Emma pulled away first, the momentary connection broken as she moved back to the bar. She poured another finger of scotch, this time sliding a second glass toward Esdeath.
"I should be horrified," Emma said, gesturing to the bodies sprawled across the expensive carpet. Ice crystals formed delicate patterns on cooling skin. Blood pooled and froze in abstract art. "Yet all I feel is... relief."
Esdeath accepted the drink but didn't sip it. She leaned against the bar, giving Emma space to process. The ice warriors had fully dissolved now, leaving only their handiwork behind. The compound felt eerily quiet—just the soft hum of air conditioning and the occasional creak of settling ice.
Emma stared at nothing, lost in thought. Esdeath didn't rush her. Some moments deserved patience.
"My father sold me," Emma finally said, her voice steady but distant. "Winston Frost, titan of industry, loving family man. At least, that's what the society pages called him." She laughed, a brittle sound that held no humor. "When I was sixteen, my powers manifested. He didn't even hesitate—made a deal with Vincent within days."
She drained her glass in one smooth motion.
"One daughter for business connections and political protection. A simple transaction."
Esdeath remained silent, understanding the weight of confession. Some stories needed to be told without interruption.
"I had everything once. Family name. Trust fund. Future." Emma's fingers tightened around the empty glass. "It vanished overnight. No one looked for me. No one asked questions. I became property—a tool to be used when convenient."
She set the glass down with careful precision.
"Vincent wanted a weapon. A way to read competitors' minds, manipulate negotiations, blackmail his enemies. But I refused to break." Pride crept into her voice. "So he kept me drugged, controlled, but never fully obedient."
Emma turned to face Esdeath directly, her blue eyes clear and hard as diamonds.
"I've had seventeen months to plan what comes next. Seventeen months of cataloging weaknesses, mapping escape routes, identifying potential allies." Her gaze swept over the carnage surrounding them. "Though I admit, this particular path hadn't occurred to me."
"What did you imagine?" Esdeath asked.
Emma's lips curved into a cold smile. "Something more... subtle. Corporate takeovers. Strategic bankruptcies. Watching everything my father built crumble while I built something stronger from the ashes."
"And now?"
"Now?" Emma looked thoughtful. "The same dream, just with fewer obstacles in my path." She straightened her shoulders, transformed suddenly from victim to visionary. "I want Frost International. Not as it was—a corrupt boys' club built on exploitation—but reimagined. Powerful. Independent. Untouchable."
She moved away from the bar, stepping carefully around a frozen corpse.
"A company where no one—no one—could ever control me again."
Esdeath watched her, seeing not just the polished exterior but the steel beneath. She recognized that hunger—for control, for freedom, for the power to shape your own destiny. It resonated with something deep inside her.
"Your turn," Emma said, turning back. "What's your dream, ice queen?"
The question caught Esdeath off guard. She'd been so focused on finding Emma, on building something, that she hadn't fully articulated her own desires.
"I want..." She paused, considering. "I want to create something that matters. Something that lasts. Not just power for its own sake, but purpose."
Emma tilted her head, studying her. "Noble words. I'm not sure I believe them."
"You don't have to believe my words." Esdeath shrugged. "Judge me by my actions."
"Like the massacre I just witnessed?" Emma raised an eyebrow.
"Like the freedom you now have."
Emma conceded the point with a slight nod. She circled the room slowly, trailing her fingers across Vincent's desk. "Why me? There are other mutants. Stronger ones. More established ones."
"Because you don't want to follow—you want to build." Esdeath set down her untouched drink. "The X-Men want soldiers for their cause. Magneto wants warriors for his revolution. I want partners for something new."
"And what is this 'something new' exactly?"
"A third option. Not Xavier's integration fantasy or Magneto's supremacy crusade. Something practical. Something ours."
Emma stopped her circuit of the room, standing before Esdeath again. "You're not telling me everything."
"Neither are you."
The admission hung between them, oddly honest. Then Emma laughed—a genuine sound this time, rich with unexpected warmth.
"Fair enough." She extended her hand again, this time initiating the gesture. "Partners, then. For now."
Esdeath took her hand. Where their skin met, frost patterns formed delicate traceries across their joined fingers. Emma's eyes widened slightly at the sensation, and Esdeath felt the faintest brush against her mental shields—not an invasion, but an acknowledgment. Ice and telepathy, recognizing each other.
"We should go," Esdeath said, releasing her hand. "Someone will have heard something."
Emma nodded. "There's a safe in his bedroom. Passports, cash, account numbers—everything I'll need to start over."
"Get what you need. I'll clear our exit."
They moved with efficient purpose—Emma to the master suite, Esdeath to secure their escape route. Five minutes later, they met in the hallway. Emma had changed into sleek white clothing and carried a small bag. She looked transformed—no longer a captive but a force to be reckoned with.
"The guards at the gate?" she asked.
"Won't be a problem."
Emma's lips twitched. "Did you kill them too?"
"No. Just... encouraged them to take a nap."
"How merciful of you."
They made their way through the compound, past empty guard posts and through the kitchen's service entrance. Outside, the night air was cool and crisp. Stars glittered overhead. Emma took a deep breath, her first taste of freedom in over a year.
"Where to now?" she asked.
"I have a place. Temporary, but secure."
Emma glanced at her. "You've been planning this."
"For weeks."
"I'm flattered."
"Don't be. I need your skills."
Emma smiled. "At least you're honest about it." She followed Esdeath toward the garage. "You should know—I'm not above using my abilities to... smooth our path forward. Memories can be adjusted. Perceptions altered."
"I'm counting on it."
They found an unmarked black sedan with the keys in the ignition. Emma slid into the passenger seat while Esdeath took the wheel.
"What exactly are we building, Esdeath?" Emma asked as they drove away from the compound, leaving behind a scene that would confound investigators for months. "What's the endgame here?"
Esdeath kept her eyes on the road, but her voice carried quiet conviction. "A sanctuary for those no one else wants."
Emma raised an eyebrow. "That's... unexpectedly altruistic."
"Is it? Or is it just practical? The world is changing. Mutants are emerging everywhere. Most end up with Xavier or Magneto, but what about those who don't fit either mold? The ones too damaged, too dangerous, too difficult?"
"The ones like us, you mean."
Esdeath nodded. "Exactly like us."
Emma was quiet for a moment, considering. "It won't be easy. We'll need resources. Protection. Influence."
"That's where you come in. Corporate connections, financial expertise."
"And what do you bring to this partnership, besides the ability to turn people into ice sculptures?"
Esdeath smiled slightly. "Vision. Determination. And connections of my own."
"Intriguing." Emma leaned back in her seat. "I suppose I should be grateful you chose to recruit me rather than eliminate me as competition."
"The thought never crossed my mind."
"Liar," Emma said, but there was no heat in the accusation. Just understanding.
They drove in companionable silence for several miles, the lights of the city growing closer. Two women escaping a prison of different kinds—one literal, one of circumstance. Both dangerous. Both determined.
"I won't be controlled," Emma said suddenly, her voice soft but firm. "Not by you. Not by anyone."
"I don't want to control you." Esdeath glanced at her. "I want to work with you."
Emma studied her profile in the dim light. "I believe you actually mean that."
"I do."
"Then perhaps this partnership has a chance after all."
As they crossed the bridge into the city, Emma looked back once at the receding darkness behind them. Then she faced forward, toward whatever future they would build together—the telepath and the ice-wielder, the first members of something new.
Something theirs.