Emma Frost: Queen of Diamonds
By Nate Yoshida

PART 4



Airplanes marked with Heinrich Van Helden's insignia flew over the Nevada desert toward Area 51, a top secret testing facility that became our former government's final base of operations. When the enemy aircrafts approached the base, they were instantaneously destroyed by glowing projectiles originating from the ground.

"Frost International has intercepted Van Helden's video feeds on a number of occasions over the past week," a news anchorman voiced-over the footage. "The latest intercepts reveal that surviving members of the former administration continue to hold their position in Area 51, presently assisted by unidentified forces and making use of what appear to be experimental weapons."

The news broadcast showed recorded footage of a camera panning the interior of a Nevada hospital room. The beds were occupied by men, women and children whose entire bodies were wrapped in blood-stained bandages.

"Van Helden's forces have apparently resorted to merciless acts of biological warfare on Nevada's civilian-populated areas," the anchorman continued. "As a result, the organization's public support has dropped sharply across the nation over the past few days, a trend that is expected to continue over the coming weeks..."



Seven days since our trip to New York City, the students and staff returned to the New Massachusetts Academy in Boston. The political alignment of the entire country gradually shifted away from Van Helden and in our favor. This, of course, was in no small part thanks to John Doe, Frost International's newly-appointed network administrator.

Early in the morning, I sat alone in the Headmistress' office at the south-east corner of the school's main building. I stared outside through my office window, observing the senior students as they socialized on the front lawn. It occurred to me that my students were a generation of telepaths who grew up together, like a family that supported each other through the most turbulent years of their lives. The school was only a training ground to me, a place where I could mold impressionable children into the strong, ambitious and powerful figures of the future. But to them, it was more than just their place of study and recreation, it became their home.

The reality of our situation hadn't changed since it all began, as the financial security of the institution remained on thin ice. The government defense contract with the old establishment was supposed to be the answer to our problems -- it was the reason Henry and I had gone to the party in Washington in the first place -- but the former government was obviously no longer in a position to ink the deal. Sure, the underground route was available to us, but I had already traveled down that road many times in the past, and I wasn't about to make that mistake again. I never claimed to be perfect, but when the credibility and future of my students were on the line, I was determined to find a legitimate solution.

I pressed a button on my office speaker phone, placing a call to one of the second-floor guest rooms. It was where Ian had agreed to stay for the time being.

"Ian Kendall speaking," he answered the call.

"Ian, it's me," I said casually.

"Emma, I was just about to come downstairs to speak with you," he told me. "I've been giving your offer some more thought lately, and I've decided I want to start teaching again. Maybe English, or one of the other... normal classes here."

"That would be wonderful, dear," I responded. "But before you start, there's just a small favor I wanted to ask of you."

"Sure, Emma. Anything."

"I've been doing a lot of thinking lately too, Ian. I've come to the conclusion that it would be in the school's best interest to open its doors to the public. To students of all kinds, not just telepaths. If you could write me a speech..."

"Are you sure it's a good time to do this?" He questioned. "I know it's not my business, but you didn't end up getting the defense contract you wanted in Washington, and the student population would get even bigger--"

"I know, our financial problems are the reason I'm doing this," I answered reassuringly. "A school that accepts all kinds of students, including the so-called normal children, will receive more public donations than one that's still considered a private training ground for psychics. Frankly, I'm only doing this because it's probably the only way I can avoid kicking my own students out on the street. Of course, you could write me more poetic words to announce my decision to the public."



Around noon, I took the elevator down to the basement level of the school and made my way to Henry's laboratory. He sat slouching over a microscope on his desk and analyzed a small sample of the substance we found in Matilda's modified collars. Sophie sat next to him. They were becoming like father and daughter ever since we came back from New York.

"You should let Doctor McCoy take that collar off now, Miss Frost," Sophie commented as I entered the room.

"Class starts in fifteen minutes," I told her.

"It'll only take a minute, Emma," Henry reassured me and looked up from his work. "I unlocked all the students this week, so I think I've got the routine down pat. I didn't kill any of them, at least not that I can remember."

"I don't know if I should give you a raise or a demotion for that, Henry," I responded. "You might've saved the school some money if you set off the trap once or twice." Henry smiled, being one of the few people who didn't hate me for comments like that. I took a seat next to his desk and let him begin removing the locking mechanism on my collar.

"The substance that Matilda put in these collars could very well be the same chemical agent that Van Helden has been using in Nevada," he informed me while he removed the plate on the back of my collar. "Believe it or not, it turns out to be a modified version of the very chemical that allows you to take organic-diamond form."

"I hope, for the sake of your employment, that you can offer a satisfactory explanation of it this time, Henry."

"Accelerated Pressure-Temperature Synthesizer, or A.P.T.S. It generates an extremely high amount of pressure and temperature, rearranging your body's carbon molecules into an organic-diamond structure. It's like an accelerated version of the process that turns graphite into synthetic diamond, but far more complex. The time it takes to reach its peak depends on the dosage. For aerial attacks like the ones in Nevada, victims usually survive as long as 72 hours before they die from its effects."

"And we don't have anything to counter-act it?" I asked.

"We don't, Emma," Henry replied. "You do."

"Would you mind elaborating, Henry dear?"

"Those are the effects of A.P.T.S. acting alone," Henry continued. "Remember I discovered last week that parts of your brain temporarily shut down every time you assumed diamond form? Well it's because your A.P.T.S. isn't acting alone, that's the reason you're still alive. Your body also produces a second substance, one that's completely unique to your genetic code. I've dubbed it the White Knight. Through a very elaborate process, it protects you from the harmful effects of the A.P.T.S., causing your body to become organic-diamond rather than dying from the heat and pressure."

"The White Knight?" Sophie questioned with a tone of skepticism.

"It's what keeps our White Queen alive when her own body could potentially kill her, so I thought that was an appropriate name for it. Van Helden's victims, like those people in Nevada, were examples of what happens when A.P.T.S. is administered without the White Knight substance."

"So can't we just make this stuff?" Sophie asked curiously.

"Matilda found a way to manufacture A.P.T.S., so we know that can be made artificially. The White Knight, on the other hand, can't be generated without Emma's genetic code." Henry turned to face me. "Your body, Emma, produces this White Knight substance naturally. In fact, you secrete it fast enough to protect you even when you have such high concentrations of A.P.T.S. that you take diamond form within a split-second."

"So Matilda spent years obsessing over every detail of my life, and even tried to recreate my diamond form," I interpolated. "A few dead test subjects later, she probably realized that she stumbled onto a chemical weapon for her boss to use. But she still couldn't make synthetic diamonds because her test subjects didn't have my genetics."

"That would be the most logical sequence of events, Emma," Henry affirmed. "But most importantly, your White Knight can be stored. In effect, you could save entire cities."



When Henry finished removing my collar, I returned to the main floor together with Sophie. We headed down the hallway toward the North-West corner of the building, where I was scheduled to teach a telepathy class that she and her sisters were enrolled in.

"I wonder what'll happen when we inject your White Knight chemical into those A.P.T.S. victims," Sophie remarked thoughtfully.

"What do you mean, Sophie?" I asked.

"Well maybe they'll all turn diamond or something since they won't die from that A.P.T.S. stuff. We'll have cities of diamond people, and you can be their leader. We can start calling you the Queen of Diamonds... You know, like the card."

"You have a wonderful imagination, darling."

In class, Sophie sat together with her four sisters. Quentin Quire wore large black-rimmed glasses and sat down at the desk next to Esme, he stared awkwardly at the five girls with a smile on his face. It was customary for the girls to ignore him, but to his surprise, Esme actually smiled back at him this time. The other four girls looked disapprovingly at Esme's unexpected response but she simply ignored them.

"It's Quentin, right?" Esme moved closer to the boy.

"Y--Yeah... Quentin Quire," he blushed. "But people call me--"

"Kid Omega, we know, you told us a million times," the other girls interrupted.

"Don't pay any attention to them, Quentin," Esme told Quentin with a smile. "They're just jealous."

"Alright, class," I stood leaning against the teacher's desk at the front of the classroom, attempting to get the students' undivided attention. "I know it's been a very hectic week, but we've--"

"Jealous of that?" Sophie responded to her sister aloud.

"Sophie..." I switched to a more authoritative tone.

"Sorry, Miss Frost." Sophie leaned back on her chair and looked at me, preparing to listen to my lecture.

"You should be jealous," Esme refused to give her sister the last word. "At least Quentin isn't going to suicide-bomb the Van Helden regime. Speaking of which, Eddy wasn't even that great in bed."

"Esme!" I shouted.

Sophie didn't speak another word for the rest of the class. She didn't so much as look in Esme's direction again.

If the girls hadn't already been such well-developed telepaths for their age, I would've just erased the entire experience from their memories so we could all move on. It may sound like an easy way out, but it would've been for the greater good of all parties involved. When telepaths like us are among each other, the traditional rules apply, what's said is said and no one can take it back.



The following day, I made my way toward a podium on the front lawn of the New Massachusetts Academy, facing a number of television cameras arranged by John Doe. I held a typed document in my hands, it was the speech that Ian had written for me.

Before we went on the air, Esme and Quentin approached me with a dark-haired woman. I realized that things between Esme and I were only about to get worse in the coming weeks, so I wasted little effort in trying to defuse the bombs that had already gone off. After all, I wasn't particularly proud of the fact that she caught me eavesdropping on her and Eddy at Club Kazama. Esme's mere presence was a constant reminder of myself at my very worst. But to my surprise, she showed none of her usual sarcasm toward me.

"Miss Frost, we want you to meet Kristal Chase," Esme introduced the woman.

"Pleased to meet you, Miss Frost," Kristal Chase said as we shook hands. "I'd like to speak with you in private, if that's alright with you. I have urgent business to discuss."

"I'll see you in my office later," I said flatly. She wore a white business suit that contrasted with the color of her hair, and carried the aura of a person who was born into her wealth. I tried to read her mind, but either she had some sort of defense mechanism, or Esme and Quentin had actually managed to shield her from me.

When I finally stepped up to the podium, I observed my live audience, which consisted mostly of the school's staff and students. In the distance toward my left-hand side, Ian stood together with three of the Stepford Cuckoos, all of them except for Sophie and Esme. In fact, I hadn't seen Sophie since telepathy class on the previous afternoon. Esme, on the other hand, stood to my right-hand side with Quentin and Chase.

"As part of our on-going efforts to expand and diversify the New Massachusetts Academy," I began reading Ian's words. "We have decided to begin accepting students of all kinds into our institution. Over the course of the next two weeks, we will be holding a public orientation event that will allow aspiring students to experience our campus life before applying to our programs. We are confident that this bold new direction will benefit the community at large, and at the same time, we intend to reinforce our school as an organization that promotes acceptance and diversity." When I delivered the speech, I couldn't help but recall Ian's remarks at the party in Washington about the similarities between public speaking and stage acting. During the speech, Ian and Kristal Chase noticed each other in the crowd, and it was obvious based on their reactions that their paths had crossed. Whatever their reasons, their dislike for one another was undoubtedly mutual.

"And we're off the air," John Doe announced. The crowd of students clapped and cheered.

"Good job, dear," I patted John on the shoulder.

"You're a natural," Ian told me as he approached, followed by three of the Cuckoos. "You've always had a talent in public speaking, even back when you were the quiet girl in my class. I'll never forget the day you started tutoring your classmates."

"We're just teaching-junkies, Ian," I told him with a smile.

"You should run for office," he remarked. "The way things are going, you could be a serious opposition to Van Helden."

"I'm not a good politician," I replied, looking over his shoulder at Esme. "Besides, I think I've got enough enemies as it is."



Afterwards, I took Kristal Chase to my office for a chance to speak to me alone, as promised.

"So what can I do for you, Ms. Chase?" I asked as we entered the Headmistress' office.

"It's Mrs. Chase," she corrected me. "Let's just skip the small talk, Miss Frost. It's no secret that your school may not be able to survive past the next year. I believe I can offer you the solution to your problems."

"Keep talking, dear," I sat down at my desk and leaned back on my chair.

"As C.E.O. of my family's diamond mining corporation, I'm offering to provide funding for your school over the next five years. If my company is satisfied with the fruits of our agreement by then, we'll sign an extension."

"And what exactly are you asking in return?" I asked.

"You are literally a living diamond mine," she responded with a grin. "That surgically-sculpted body of yours is the key to the world's most economical synthetic diamond manufacturing process. All I ask in return for my financial support is a supply of certain chemicals from your body, and access to research data."

"I can't give that to you, Mrs. Chase," I turned to face my computer screen, showing my disinterest in her offer.

"Your lack of foresight disappoints me," Chase leaned forward and rested her hands on my desk. "After all, you've just become a national political figure. Right now, the country sees you as a wrongfully-accused school teacher and C.E.O., who exposed the brutality of the Van Helden regime. We wouldn't want details of your New York sex scandals, murder cases, and shady business deals getting onto the airwaves, would we?"

"Alright, this is your first and final warning, darling," I looked her coldly in the eyes. "Leave quietly and I'm willing to forget this conversation. Otherwise, you may develop an uncontrollable attraction toward farm animals."

"You don't scare me, Miss Frost," she grinned with an unwavering confidence. "I know you can't do your little tricks on me. I just offered you a chance to do things the easy way, a way in which we could have mutually benefited. Just remember, you chose the hard way of your own free will."



In the evening, Henry and I stood on the balcony of my upper-floor master bedroom. I held a glass of red wine in my left hand, while my silver bath robe flowed gently in the breeze. We looked out into the horizon at the sunset above the distant cityscape.

"It's so beautiful, so peaceful, when you see it from a distance," I remarked reflectively. "It's not until you move closer that you see the dirty details of it, the street crime, the profanity..."

"Some things are beautiful up close too," Henry responded.

"Maybe you just haven't seen it close enough to see its flaws," I turned to face him eye-to-eye. "You wouldn't want to be with me, Henry. Underneath the sparkling diamond shell is nothing more than a cold, hard heart. I draw out the worst in people."

"You can't keep blaming yourself for what everyone else does, Emma," he placed his paw over my shoulder.

"Esme and Quentin are my students, Henry," I replied. "They're becoming manipulative and self-centered telepaths who use their abilities for nothing but their own benefit. I know they're the ones pulling the strings behind Kristal Chase's scheme. They've become everything I regret having been, and I'm the one who taught them. I made them what they are today. If I'm not to blame, who is?"

"What about the others? What about Sophie? You've always been an excellent teacher, Emma. You should give yourself more credit for--" Henry turned around to look behind us. "Oh my stars and garters."

I turned and saw Esme and Quentin standing silently behind us. They stood in the shadow with their faces only partially lit by the sunset, but their eyes seemed to glow in the dark with a soft light-blue tint. They hadn't made a sound when they approached us from behind. In fact, I hadn't even sensed their telepathic imprints. They simply stood there, staring at Henry and myself with their blank eyes.

There was a seemingly eternal moment of silence. I realized that they had probably heard every word of what I said about them. It wasn't every day that I encountered telepaths who were even close to my own level, let alone ones who could potentially be more powerful than myself when they worked together.

"It's okay, Miss Frost," Esme finally spoke up with a piercingly hateful look in her glowing eyes. "We already knew we were your biggest regrets. We don't blame you, but we do have something to show you." Quentin simply stood next to her quietly, with a devious grin on his face.



Suddenly, my surroundings seemed to have disappeared to me.

I found myself standing alone in the middle of a long hallway with plain white walls and crimson carpeting. There was not another living being in sight, just a single wooden door at the far end. It was a dead silence.

Instinctively, I tried to scan the area for any other telepathic imprints. But I felt nothing.

"Henry?" I called out hoping he could hear me, but there was no answer.

I began walking slowly toward the door in the distance. I could literally hear my own heart beat, it was getting faster by the second.

"Esme? Quentin?" I called to them. "If you're trying to get to me, it's not working. You're not as powerful as you think, children."

I lied. One could argue that I had survived experiences that were far worse than this, but every moment that passed, I couldn't help feeling my natural reactions to the fear of the unknown no matter how hard I tried. I felt chills down my spine while my heart rate continued to rise like a drum beating in the dead of the night.

The more I tried to convince myself that none of it was real, the more I felt an utter lack of control. Ultimately, I felt weak, I felt vulnerable. I felt all of the emotions that I had become so accustomed to hiding from the world with my cold and emotionless exterior. It was my defense mechanism, but Esme and Quentin effortlessly tore it down.

I approached the door at the end of the hallway and hesitantly placed my hand on the door knob.

Immediately, a sequence of horrifying images ran through my head. I saw the students of New Massachusetts Academy, collectively screaming for my help with high-pitched voices. They held their heads in pain as they heated up to dangerous temperatures from within. They were surrounded by bodies that were wrapped in blood-stained bandages.

I quickly pulled my hand away from the knob.

I paused for a moment and looked behind me, but I only saw the entire length of the empty hallway that I had just walked through. There was still no one else in sight. Slowly, I took a deep breath and placed my hand on the door knob once again. I opened the door.

On the other side was an empty brightly-lit room with no furniture or decorations. It was just a plain white room. A man stood alone in the middle of the room. It was Ian Kendall as I had remembered him from over a decade ago, staring at me through his glasses.

"Miss Emma Frost," Ian broke the silence, he looked at me as though I had cheated on a test in one of his classes. "You are nothing but a disappointment to me."

"Ian?" I said softly. I felt like I had lost all control of my own mind, reverting to the feelings and thoughts I felt in my teens. My defenses were completely shattered, and I felt like a weak, timid, defenseless little girl again.

"How could you be so blind?" Ian continued, removing his glasses and shaking his head as he wiped the lenses. "It wasn't just because you were my student. I admit I was attracted to you, but I never loved you. Did you honestly think anyone in the world could truly love you?"

"What?! Ian, what are you talking about?"

"Your students have a bond with each other, they're a family now," Ian put his glasses back on and stared coldly at me. "But you're not a part of that family, Emma. You're just their teacher, always distancing yourself with tactless jokes and rude remarks. They don't care about you. How could they?"

"That's not true!" I responded angrily. "That's not you talking, Ian! Esme! Quentin! Stop this right now!"

"Esme and Quentin aren't here, Emma," Ian replied. "And you know it's true. Even in your thoughts, you see the students as a family with each other, but that never included you. You've never even come close to becoming a parent figure to them like I was to some of my students."

"No! I won't listen to this! Stop it!"

"Denial. That's precisely what your life has been all about, isn't it? Hiding from the truth, hiding from your reality. Since the day you collapsed at school in Snow Valley, you started building a wall around yourself. Now you can't even bring yourself to show your true feelings to the people you care for. Your cold heart will only bring you one inevitable truth, Emma. You will die a very lonely woman. A self-loathing, weak and pathetic individual without anyone in the world to care for you. No one can save you from yourself now."

"Shut up!" I yelled. "You are not Ian!"

Esme and Quentin somehow knew all of my deepest fears. Even the feelings and thoughts that I kept hidden so deeply within myself that I hesitated to think of them consciously. They used them, they used my inner demons against me, if for nothing more than to see me suffer. I had never felt so helpless in my life.



"Just stop! Please!" I pleaded.

I found myself back in reality on the balcony of my room. I had dropped down to one knee, with my weight resting on my left hand and my robe draped over my body. When I regained consciousness of my immediate surroundings, the first thing I saw was the shattered pieces of my wine glass on the floor before me.

"Emma!" Henry crouched beside me and placed his right arm over my shoulder. He then looked up at Esme and Quentin. "What are you two doing to her?!"

"That was only a preview," Esme spoke in a calm and confident voice. "It was nothing compared to what we can do to you if you refuse our deal."

"We won't pay Kristal Chase's blackmail by becoming her chemical weapons supplier," I stated firmly and looked at Esme and Quentin with a hateful stare. They were no longer my students as far as I was concerned.

"A.P.T.S. is as easy to buy on the black market as rocket-propelled grenade launchers now, Miss Frost." Esme walked closer to me and grabbed my hair. She jerked my head back violently and forced me to look her directly in the eyes. "All we need is your so-called White Knight chemical, and access to Doctor McCoy's research."

Henry pushed Esme's hand away, forcing her to release the grip on my hair.

"Even if we gave all of that to you, how do we know you won't just ask for more?" Henry questioned the two former students.

"You don't, Doctor McCoy," Quentin answered. "But as an added incentive, some of our classmates -- you know, the ones that Miss Frost does feel proud of -- are being kept in a very safe place. I would guess they have about 72 hours to live. Unless, of course, we're given a supply of the White Knight..."



End of Part 4