Emma Frost wasn't just another mutant. She was one of Charles Xavier's.
The revelation hit Daniel like a physical blow. As he sifted through her memories, the truth became undeniable: she had spent years at the Mutant Academy, trained by the very best—Professor Charles, Wolverine, and even Jean Grey.
The fact blindsided him. It was a detail he had completely missed, a miscalculation so profound it threatened to unravel everything.
He looked at the woman sitting silently before him, her eyes vacant, and felt a surge of cold dread. His psychic imprint, the subtle chains of control he had carefully woven into the core of her mind, was now a ticking time bomb.
The moment she met with Charles or Jean, they would sense it. They were masters of the mind, and his psychic signature, no matter how deeply hidden, would be as obvious to them as a footprint in fresh snow. They would erase his influence in an instant, and worse, they might even trace it back to him.
His original plan—a swift, decisive takeover—was now worthless.
He had to change course.
The psychic imprint couldn't be removed completely, not without risking permanent damage to Emma's mind. But he could suppress it, bury it so deep within her subconscious that it would lie dormant, a sleeper agent waiting for a signal that might never come. It would subtly influence her, a whisper in the back of her mind, but it could no longer be his primary weapon.
This new reality forced him to reconsider everything.
He had planned to seize control of Norwich Energy Company, fearing Emma would use her psychic abilities to root out his loyalists. But if she was trained by Professor Charles, she would adhere to a stricter code of ethics. Charles, for all his power, taught his students restraint. Emma wouldn't be the kind of psychic who casually rifled through the minds of her employees. His people were safer than he'd thought.
The irony was not lost on him. He had acted against Emma because he'd treated her like any other ruthless Hydra leader, like Sebastian Shaw, who would betray allies without a second thought. But she wasn't like them. Her connection to the X-Men made her different.
And with that difference came a new, glittering, terrifying possibility.
Daniel's original grand plan had been simple: take over Norwich, use its vast resources to build an interstellar vessel, and leave Earth behind. He would find a new world, a place far from the endless power struggles of gods, aliens, and mutants, and continue his research in peace.
But now, a different path had opened. Through Emma, he had a direct link to Jean Grey.
And to the Phoenix Force.
The Phoenix Force was a power beyond comprehension, a primordial energy on par with the Infinity Stones. If he could influence Jean, even slightly, he might be able to steer the course of the future. He could potentially avert the coming crisis with Thanos. With the Phoenix on his side, Thanos would never be able to snap his fingers. He wouldn't even be able to gather the stones.
The temptation was immense. As a magician, as a seeker of ultimate power, how could he not be drawn to such a force? Immortality, rebirth from ashes—those were just its most basic abilities. The true power of the Phoenix could burn away time itself, reshape reality.
He had considered it before but had always dismissed it as too risky. The Phoenix was too powerful, Jean's will too strong, and he had no way to get close to the mutants.
Until now.
His plans had to change. Leaving Earth could wait. The game here had just become infinitely more interesting.
First, he had to deal with the imprint.
Daniel's expression grew solemn. He raised his hand, his white-brown magic wand appearing from his sleeve. In the air before him, a golden circle of light materialized. At its center, a single point of scarlet energy pulsed. He poured his magic into it, not to expand it, but to compress it, squeezing it down until it was smaller than a pinprick, almost invisible to the naked eye.
He gently touched the tip of his wand to Emma's forehead. The scarlet point of light sank into her, vanishing deep into her mind, where it would lie hidden, waiting.
By 10 PM, the plane had landed at New York International Airport. The city was a sprawling galaxy of lights below. Daniel had intended to stay for a while, to move quietly under the radar and set his plans in motion. Now, everything was different.
On the car ride into the city, he made a call.
"Arrange a laboratory," he said into the phone. "I'll be starting a new project."
Sunil Bakshi on the other end didn't question it. "I understand. I'll get it done right away."
For years, research into the super-soldier program had stalled due to a lack of viable serum samples. But with Captain America's return, new opportunities had emerged. The U.S. government and S.H.I.E.L.D. were undoubtedly trying to replicate the formula, and Daniel knew it was only a matter of time before samples became available through back channels.
Few in the world knew more about the super-soldier serum than he did. Half a century ago, he had created his own version. Now, with the benefit of modern bioengineering and his own advanced knowledge, the chances of success were higher than ever. It was time to get back into the game.
While Bakshi set to work, Daniel took another flight, this time back to Europe. He landed in London, then took a connecting flight to Paris. By the time he and Elektra had checked into their hotel and had lunch, it was well into the afternoon.
He said he needed to rest, but instead, he spent the time on the phone, rearranging his network. The hostile takeover of Norwich Energy was off. Instead, he instructed his agents to move slowly, to awaken his network step by step, and to quietly consolidate power in the company's branches, staying as far from Emma's direct notice as possible.
He couldn't risk any accidents, any slip-ups that might draw her psychic attention. The audacity of the Hydra agents within S.H.I.E.L.D. had always amazed him; they were lucky no powerful telepaths worked there, or their secrets would have been exposed long ago.
For now, his plans required subtlety. And something else.
He needed money. A lot of it. Money that was clean, untraceable, and readily available. To build a new empire, he first needed a foundation. And that foundation was built on capital.