A sharp hiss sliced through the air as twin beams of scorching heat erupted from Ryan Cross's eyes. He didn't bother with words or hesitation, simply carving into the twenty-centimeter-thick steel wall in front of him like it was nothing more than soft wax. The metal glowed red, then white, before collapsing inward as he traced an irregular square, each edge melting under the relentless intensity of his gaze.
With a final movement, he drove his fist forward and shattered the weakened section. The steel gave way with a deafening crash, leaving behind a jagged opening large enough for a person to step through without effort. The force of the blow echoed down the sterile corridor, a sharp contrast to the silence that had filled it moments before.
On the other side of the breach, the scene was almost absurdly calm. A blonde woman sat comfortably on a neatly made bed, her posture relaxed as she leaned against the pillows, a book resting in her hands. Her expression carried an effortless elegance, as if she were lounging in a luxury suite rather than a high-security prison cell.
This was Emma Frost—the White Queen.
She didn't react immediately to the destruction. Only when Ryan stepped through the opening, his presence filling the room with quiet authority, did she slowly close her book and set it aside. With unhurried grace, she swung her legs off the bed and stood, her eyes locking onto his face as she studied him carefully.
There was no recognition in her gaze, only curiosity sharpened by caution. After a brief pause, she spoke, her tone measured and probing.
"Did Shaw send you to rescue me?"
Her voice was calm, but there was tension beneath it. The last time Ryan had clashed with Sebastian Shaw had been at the CIA's mutant facility, but Emma hadn't been there to witness it. She had been in the Soviet Union at the time, only to be captured later by Erik and his allies and imprisoned here. To her, Ryan was a complete unknown.
Ryan shrugged lightly, as if discussing the weather. "It's a little complicated. But Shaw's dead, Emma."
The shift in her expression was subtle but unmistakable. For a fraction of a second, surprise flickered across her face before it hardened into disbelief. Then she let out a soft, dismissive laugh.
"Dead?" she echoed, her lips curling with skepticism. "How could Shaw possibly die? And who exactly are you?"
She couldn't imagine anyone capable of killing Shaw. His power was too abnormal, too overwhelming. The idea alone sounded absurd.
Ryan spread his hands casually, completely unbothered by her doubt. "As you can see, I'm one of your own. I know you've got questions, but are you really sure this is the place to have that conversation?"
Emma didn't respond immediately. Instead, her gaze shifted to the woman standing nearby—Raven. Her eyes narrowed slightly, suspicion rising again.
"Compatriot?" Emma repeated, her tone turning colder. "Then what's her story?"
It was Raven who had helped capture her in the first place—or at least, someone who looked like her had. That memory hadn't faded.
Ryan glanced at Raven and gave a small nod. "Seems like there's been a misunderstanding."
Raven didn't waste time explaining. With a flicker of thought, her body shimmered as a wave of blue rippled across her skin. The disguise dissolved instantly, revealing her true appearance beneath.
Emma's posture relaxed almost immediately. The tension in her shoulders eased as recognition replaced suspicion. She hadn't known Raven before—during the confrontation at sea, Raven had been disguised as someone else—but the truth was clear enough now.
A fellow mutant.
That alone changed everything.
Still, Emma's attention quickly returned to Ryan. Without any warning, she activated her ability, her mind reaching out in an attempt to slip into his thoughts. It was a reflex, a habit born from years of control and manipulation.
But the moment she tried, her expression shifted.
Failure.
There was nothing there—no opening, no entry point. It was as if she had slammed into an impenetrable wall. Not only could she not read his thoughts, she couldn't even touch the edges of his mind.
A chill ran through her.
This wasn't normal. Even Charles Xavier, one of the most powerful telepaths she knew, had never completely blocked her out like this. There had always been resistance, yes—but never total denial.
This man… his mental defenses were on an entirely different level.
Ryan watched her with a faint smile, a hint of amusement and mockery dancing in his eyes. "So," he said lightly, "are we done here?"
He knew exactly what she had tried to do. Under the protection of his system, even Charles wouldn't be able to pry into his mind, let alone Emma.
A faint heat crept into her face, a rare flicker of embarrassment breaking through her usual composure. She straightened subtly, masking it as best she could, but the shift in her attitude was undeniable.
She no longer underestimated him.
Whatever else he was, he wasn't someone to treat lightly.
Still, one thing was clear—he had come here to break her out, and anyone bold enough to storm the CIA headquarters for that purpose wasn't an enemy.
Without further hesitation, Emma stepped forward and followed him out of the cell.
The moment they entered the corridor, the calm shattered.
Alarms blared throughout the building, sharp and relentless. Red lights flashed along the walls as the piercing sound filled every corner of the facility, creating an atmosphere thick with urgency and tension.
Emma instinctively quickened her pace. No matter how confident she usually was, she understood the danger of their situation. This was the CIA's headquarters, not some isolated outpost. Even she couldn't casually walk out of here unchallenged.
But Ryan?
He moved at the same steady pace as before, completely unhurried. His expression didn't change, his steps unbroken by the chaos unfolding around them.
After a few strides, he suddenly stopped.
Emma frowned, irritation creeping into her voice. "What are you doing? Why did you stop?"
Ryan turned slightly, his tone as calm as ever. "Relax. There's another one of us being held here."
Before she could respond, he pivoted toward a reinforced security door nearby. Without hesitation, twin beams of heat erupted from his eyes again, cutting into the thick metal with effortless precision.
The steel parted under the assault, glowing and warping as if it had no strength at all.
Emma watched from the side, her composure slipping for just a moment. Even without touching the beams, she could feel the sheer intensity radiating from them. The energy output alone was enough to make her uneasy.
This wasn't just a telepath.
This was something far more dangerous.
A thought surfaced in her mind, unbidden and unavoidable.
Terrifying.
She had seen many powerful mutants within the Hellfire Club, but even among them, someone like this would stand at the very top. There were few—if any—who could match what she was witnessing.
Before she could dwell on it further, distant voices echoed through the corridor.
"Over there!"
"Move! Hurry!"
"The prisoner's escaped!"
Footsteps thundered closer, the sound of multiple agents rushing toward them growing louder by the second.
Ryan didn't even glance back at first. Only after a moment did he pause his heat vision and turn his head slightly toward Emma.
"Emma," he said evenly, "mind holding them off for a bit?"
There was no panic in his voice, no urgency—just a simple request.
Emma didn't argue. With a flicker of thought, her body transformed instantly, her skin crystallizing into flawless diamond. The shift was seamless, her entire form becoming a living gemstone that reflected the flashing red lights of the alarm.
Still, she gave him a sharp look. "I'll handle them for now," she said, her tone firm. "But don't take too long."
Her diamond form made her nearly invulnerable, but she wasn't invincible. Against a sustained assault—especially from a facility like this—there were limits to what she could endure.
Without waiting for a reply, she surged forward.
Gunfire erupted almost immediately.
Shots rang out in rapid succession, echoing through the hallway as agents opened fire. Bullets struck her diamond form with sharp, metallic impacts, ricocheting off harmlessly as she advanced without slowing.
The corridor became a battlefield in seconds.
And behind her, Ryan Cross acted as if none of it existed.
The gunfire, the shouting, the chaos—it all faded into irrelevance as he continued cutting through the reinforced door at his own pace, methodical and unbothered.
.....
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