Dark Marvels: X-Men
Issue 1 Conclusion - In The Cards
He sat in a chair, looking at the monitors as he made notes. One hand tapped a button, starting a recording. "Experiment X-9, Study 4. Experiment Ongoing." He considered the monitor carefully, watching the woman it displayed.
Emma Frost hung from her restraints, cursing her poor judgement. A tall, blonde beauty, she was not looking at her best. Her arms and legs were pulled out by incredibly powerful metal chains, forcing her completely spread-eagle in a position that put strain on every limb. A thin wire noose was looped around her neck, slowly tightening, and she struggled to breathe as she resisted it. She still wore her knee-high white boots, a white corset that had been pulled down to reveal her ample breasts but was still tight enough to restrict her breathing, and the fur stole that lay across her shoulders. It only seemed to amplify her helpless nudity as she fought for air.
She had hoped to ferry her three mutant charges to safety in San Marco. She had very nearly succeeded, but one of the three, Angelica, had contacted her boyfriend to tell him where she was going, and they'd been ambushed that night while they slept. Emma had woken to the feel of minds charging in, but her near-invulnerable shell was still weak against knockout gas. The mutants had been captured, raped, tortured, and then bundled like cattle for the slaughter. Now there was no one within reach of her mind. Faintly, she could feel the terror of Angelica and Roulette, another of her charges, but there was nothing she could do to help them.
Emma's thoughts were wrenched away as the noose tightened further, cutting off her air. She wouldn't give them the pleasure this time, she vowed to herself, as she began to choke. She would die before she begged, before she returned to this cycle of torment. But as her vision darkened and she felt her body bucking for air, her resolve collapsed. Unconsciously, almost against her will, she transformed.
Emma's body turned diamond-hard, skin taking on a glass-like hue as she completed her transformation, the voices of the others vanishing from her mind. From inside her shell, she took a deep breath, her perfect muscles now easily pushing the wire loop around her neck aside. She could just feel its attempts to tighten, but they were nothing. If only she could say the same about the chains holding her still.
As she thought that, she felt a familiar sensation taking shape in her vagina. A buzzing, tickling sensation, almost pleasant, deeply arousing. She moaned faintly, wriggling in her bonds, knowing what it was. While she had been unconscious, something had been implanted in her, something that relied on a radio signal to remain inactive. Something her diamond body blocked. She knew it couldn't happen, but she writhed in her chains anyway, hoping that maybe, just once, she could earn release.
It didn't happen. The sensation grew stronger. Slowly, arousal turned to discomfort, and she felt orgasm slipping away. She cried out in frustration, then whimpered as the sensation grew again, pain blooming inside her. Energy was lancing out of the tiny device, and it couldn't escape her body. It could only cause pain. Emma Frost closed her eyes and clenched her teeth. She would die, this time. She could feel incredible pain spreading through her lower body, and she screamed as she tried to pull her hands free, to do something to stop it. She would die. She would not give in. She would not...
Once again, her body betrayed her. Desperate to release the electricity building inside it, it transformed, and Emma turned from a woman of diamond to a sweaty mess, hanging limply in her chains as the device shut down and the energy it had been producing grounded itself harmlessly through her restraints. For a few seconds, the room was still. Emma cursed as loudly as she could, recovering energy. Then, with weary horror, she felt the noose around her neck tightening again.
Far above, in a control room, the man studied the three readouts, and nodded to himself. "All experiments proceed nominally." He noted into a microphone, lip curling into a smile. Across the room, a red light blinked, and he sighed. With a quick motion, his arm extended, uncoiling as it expanded across the room, and grabbing the small handset sitting there. Returning it to his mouth, he spoke. "Tony."
"Doctor Richards." Tony Stark's clipped tones filled his ears. "I've just had a very interesting report about you."
"Have you, then?" Reed Richards rolled his eyes, adjusting the controls on the experiment absently. "I can't imagine what interesting things I've been doing. Unless this is about that Negative Zone jaunt last week, which I will note I scheduled with Warbird."
"Don't play dumb with me, Reed," Stark snapped. "You may be Mister Fantastic to the media, but I know you. Exactly how many mutants have you kidnapped?"
Reed sighed. "Nine," He admitted.
"And how many of them are still alive?"
"...three," Richards said after a long moment. "Four, depending on your definition of the word." Before Tony could explode, he added, "I'm learning quite a lot."
"Fuck, Reed!" Tony yelled. "You can't just steal them like that! What if someone traces it back to you? I can get you research subjects!"
"Not quickly enough," Reed said. "But you don't have to worry. I won't need more any time soon." He sat back, thinking.
Tony sighed over the line. "Have you made any progress on replicating the X-gene?" He asked.
"Not quite." Reed frowned down at the monitor, watching the White Queen gasping for breath, and felt himself smile. She was certainly a beautiful subject. "But I've found something better."
"This ought to be good." Tony muttered.
"I've found a telepath." Reed said.
Tony's voice caught in his throat. "You have?" He whispered.
"Yes, and you'll never guess which one." Reed sat back, lips curling into a smile. "Emma Frost."
"The White Queen," Tony murmured. "I thought she was dead."
"Not yet," Reed said with a smile. "And don't worry, I'm being careful. Once I've broken her, you can send some SHIELD agents down for interrogation." He waited a half-beat, then added, "Oh, and Tony? The rumours are true. When Frost's secondary mutation triggers, she seems to develop total bi-directional psychic immunity. Given some time, I think I can replicate it."
"And then Xavier is ours." Tony laughed. "Alright, Reed. You've won this round. But I want your word – no more subjects without my approval. I have enough trouble dealing with your pet monster."
Reed's smile vanished. "Ben's never killed anyone you didn't tell him to, Tony."
"I was referring to Johnny," Tony said.
"Good night, Reed."
* * *
Far away, in her small room, the blind woman turned a card over, sighing softly as the Queen of Cups vanished against the table. "Magneto died, and his dream of a mutant-human Brotherhood died with him. Essex fell, and the Morlocks were reduced to dust. Now, the last embers of the Hellfire Club have been extinguished. There are no more possibilities of resurrection. Only one path remains to mutantkind. The Professor and Stark will have their wish. It is war."
She fingered the pack of cards she held, considering. In truth, she didn't need them, but she had found that they helped her to focus her powers, and she couldn't afford to make any mistakes. "Five strands," she murmured, "Five tiny candles to hold back the darkness that engulfs us. Fading, flickering."
The first card was turned over. The blind woman's hands ran over the raised edges, replacing the image on the card in her mind with that of a woman in white, wings spreading behind her as she raised her hands, light streaming from her fingers as she looked down on the world. "Judgement," the woman said with a nod. "Forged in darkness, a hope of light. But will she redeem her destroyer, or ruin him?" The second card, in her thoughts, showed two women, one flying above, wreathed in flames and another dangling from her grasp, eyes closed and weeping. "The Hanged Man," she said with a nod. "My poor champion, they brought you low, but you might yet save yourself, and us all. But when you slip from their grasp, will you rise, or fall?"
The third card was of a woman standing tall in green robes, long hair fanning out behind her as she raised her hands. "The Empress," the woman muttered. "Heir to greatness, to a legacy you don't know. Kind, and nuturing, and terrible in your anger. Too soon to tell whether you will be forged or shattered in the fire."
With the fourth, she had to smile. Two men, one rising, the other falling. Both mirrors of each other, wearing dark warrior's garb. "The Wheel of Fortune, of course," she said. "Not mutants, but born of mutantkind, two candles so close to burning out. One of you will be salvation, and one destruction, but I cannot tell which."
And then she turned the last card, and it was blank. "And one lost already," she said with a frown. "Yet the pattern remains the same. A shadow across the field, the least of the five and yet the one on which the most will hinge. Who are you, I wonder?"
She sighed, sitting back. "Five candles. Too little, against the endless night. But the future that you bring..." She turned over the last card. The Tower. Destruction, devastation. The world split asunder. Her word could stop it, cause it... or change its course. The blind woman cleared the cards away, and nodded. Then she picked up the small, hardwired land line she could use to call downstairs. "Hello, Professor," she said softly. "This is Destiny. I've had a vision."