Sarah Across the Multiverse

General (POV)

As Sarah stood on the beach, her boots sinking into the damp sand, the adrenaline of her fight with Emma Frost still thrummed faintly in her veins. She took a deep breath, letting the ocean's salty breeze cool her burning lungs. The battle was over, but the tension wasn't.

Then it hit her.

A pulse—deep and electric—shot through her chest, as if her heart had briefly skipped a beat. She staggered, her hand clutching her ribs as a wave of alien energy washed over her. It wasn't pain—not exactly. It was... heat, coursing through her body, like the lingering embers of an explosion.

Her knees buckled slightly, and her vision blurred as her body fought to stabilize itself against the sudden intrusion. But as quickly as the surge had come, it began to settle, threading itself through her being like a second heartbeat. Sarah gasped, her eyes narrowing as she focused inward, trying to understand what was happening.

It was then she felt it—the faint, unmistakable hum of nuclear energy. Her mind raced, recalling the volatile radiation Shaw had drawn from the submarine reactor. That same energy was now in her body.

It felt like a key sliding into a lock, like a mechanism in her 'DNA' had clicked into place. She didn't just feel the energy—she understood it. She could sense its presence, like a predator sensing prey. The sun on her skin, the warmth of the sand beneath her feet, even the faint heat from the smoldering wreckage of the submarine—they all pulsed faintly with energy she could now take, absorb, and amplify.

Her hands trembled as she flexed her fingers, feeling the pull of energy in the air. A grin tugged at her lips as she tilted her head, testing this newfound ability. The nuclear charge she could sense in her pocket dimension felt vast and volatile, but it didn't overwhelm her. It was contained, waiting for her command.

But more than that, Sarah could feel her body adapting to this power. It wasn't just an ability to store energy—it was the ability to take it, channel it, and weaponize it. 

"Hah," she muttered, a dark chuckle bubbling up. "Shaw's precious little party trick? Guess it's mine now." Her gaze drifted to the unconscious Emma's sunbathing nearby. For a brief, delicious moment, Sarah toyed with the idea of draining her too, testing the limits of her Life Force Drain. Would it work like with Shaw? What would Frost's power feel like? Her grin turned wicked, and she tilted her head. "Pity it'd kill her," she murmured, her tone half-mocking. "Easy, Sarah. Evil Mode can wait."

Straightening, she turned back to the smoking submarine. "Focus Sarah, you're still on a mission"

Ignoring Charles's frantic orders, she strode toward the wreckage. Shaw was dead. Charles needed to assume she was responsible. 

...

Some minutes before...

Magneto stepped into the reactor room, his boots clicking sharply against the floor. He had been looking for Shaw for years to exact his revenge, his every step leading him closer to the moment of final reckoning.

But now, before him, the situation was far different than he expected.

The Shadow Duplicate of Sarah stood over Shaw's lifeless body, the flickering tendrils of shadow still trailing from its body as it absorbed the last remnants of Shaw's absorbed nuclear energy and life force. There was no sense of urgency—only the slow, deliberate shift of dark energy around it, like a lioness finishing its meal. Shaw, once so powerful, lay dead on the floor, his power reduced to nothing.

"Goodnight, Shaw," the duplicate spoke, its voice an unnerving echo of Sarah's calm, detached tone.

Magneto's gaze flicked from Shaw's lifeless body to the shadow figure standing above him. A flicker of admiration, mixed with something deeper, stirred within him. Sarah had always surprised him, but this? This was something else entirely. A creation born from the shadows of her own being, acting without hesitation, with deadly precision.

Magneto crossed the room slowly, his steps measured, his eyes not leaving the shadowy figure. There was something unsettling about how easily the duplicate had finished Shaw off, even though he'd wanted that final blow. He could have done it himself, he should have done it himself. Yet, it was her that had done it—Sarah, or whatever part of her this was.

"I didn't expect you to take matters into your own hands after telling me you wouldn't try to stop me from doing what I feel I must," Magneto said, his voice a blend of intrigue and disappointment. "Didn't you also say that a wound festers, a pain demands retribution?" He studied the duplicate's flickering form with a calculating gaze. "I thought I might have had the pleasure of exacting this retribution myself."

The Shadow Duplicate flickered once, the form almost melting into itself before speaking again, its voice dark and resolute. "As I said before, I do not want a fallout between you and Charles. Hence my actions."

Magneto's gaze narrowed, and he took another step closer, now mere feet away from Shaw's lifeless body. "You're meddling in something that doesn't concern you," he said, but there was no real anger in his tone. Only a strange sort of curiosity.

The duplicate tilted its head slightly, its voice smooth as oil. "Charles' way will never work. And neither will your idea of mutant supremacy. Neither of you will succeed if the two of you go your separate ways." It took a step forward, the shadows swirling beneath its feet like an ominous storm. "Mutants should unite, form a front, and not fight each other."

Magneto stood still, his face impassive as the duplicate spoke, but his thoughts were anything but calm. It was as if the Shadow Duplicate were laying bare the flaws he'd tried so hard to ignore, forcing him to face a truth he was unwilling to acknowledge.

"You speak as if you know something I don't," Magneto said, his tone softer now, though his eyes were locked on the duplicate as if trying to read her intentions. "What makes you think your solution is the answer?"

The shadow figure's eyes flickered, and for a brief moment, the energy around it shimmered as if reality itself was bending. "Because I've seen what your fallout will lead to," it said, voice low and serious, with the weight of experience behind it. "I come from the future. I know the consequences of both your paths. And I know what will happen if you continue down this road. You will both live unfulfilling lives filled with death in the end you both will lose."

Magneto didn't flinch, but the idea of seeing the future—a future where he and Charles were at odds—was unnerving, even for him. He had always believed in the power of destiny, but this… This was something else entirely.

The Shadow Duplicate's form flickered again, the shadows wrapping tighter around it as if it were preparing to vanish into the darkness. "So, dear, it's all up to you," it said, a final cryptic note in its voice. "Though I have removed the obstacle that would lead to your eventual fallout. The final choice is yours, whether you want to continue down your path, one that will lead to darkness. But I've already seen where that leads."

"Wait," Magneto said sharply, stepping forward. "Are you Sarah?"

The duplicate paused, its dark form wavering like a candle's flame. "We are... and we aren't," it replied, the answer layered with ambiguity.

Magneto hesitated, his eyes tracing the shadow's movements as it melted back into the surrounding darkness. For a moment, he felt a shift in the air—a weighty sense of loss, of a future that might have been lost forever.

But then, he turned his gaze to Shaw's fallen body. He moved forward quickly, his hand sweeping over Shaw's lifeless form, his hand reaching out to the iconic helmet that can block Charles' telepathy. Magneto's fingers closed around it, and he lifted it from Shaw's head, the cool metal cold against his palm.

With a quiet sigh, Magneto placed the helmet on his head, its smooth surface fitting perfectly, its presence almost a part of him. This was his symbol. But to what end? Was all that shadow just said true?

The silence in the room was thick. The shadow was gone, and Shaw was dead, but Magneto stood alone, with only the helmet and the weight of duplicate Sarah's words to hold him.

...

Erik stood near Shaw's lifeless body, the iconic helmet resting in his hands. He turned as Sarah entered, her expression unreadable but her eyes sharp, as if she already anticipated his thoughts.

"I waited," Erik said finally, his voice low, carrying an edge of restrained emotion. "I knew you'd show up eventually."

"I get why you want to do this, for us for me and Charles," Erik said, his grip on the helmet tightened, his gaze lingering on Shaw's body. "So that's your solution to take the blame? What made you think that would solve our difference?" 

"It may or may not solve anything between the two of you down the road, Erik," Sarah said, her gaze fixed on Shaw's remains. "But if I have the choice to change an unfavorable outcome, or at least try to do so, why not take it?"Before Erik could respond, a familiar voice cut through the tension.

"What happened here?"

Charles' voice carried a note of alarm, and both turned to see him standing in the doorway, his sharp blue eyes scanning the room. His gaze fell on Shaw's broken form, then flicked back to Sarah, his face an open book of disbelief and disappointment.

Sarah didn't bother turning to face him, her tone cool and detached. "I did what had to be done."

Charles stepped further into the room, his steps, tentative but deliberate. "Sarah… this isn't the way. You didn't have to do this. We could have—"

"We could have what, Charles?" Sarah interrupted her words sharp and cutting. "Talked him to death? Held hands and sang Kumbaya until he saw the error of his ways?" Her voice carried a cold edge of frustration. "Shaw was never going to stop, and you know it."

Charles faltered for a moment, his eyes narrowing. "It's not about Shaw. It's about you. You didn't just take a life—you took justice in your own hands"

Sarah turned then, meeting his gaze for the first time. "Spare me the lecture, Professor. You had me spare Riptide before, yet he kept coming back, prime example there. You're delusional if you think sparing Shaw would have prevented anything."

Charles' jaw tightened as he exchanged a glance with Erik. They had their ideological differences and Sarah seemed to be the one bridge between them.

Erik broke the silence, his tone steady but firm. "She's not wrong, Charles. Shaw was a threat—he needed to be eliminated."

Charles shook his head, his voice rising. "And since when do we decide who lives and who dies, Erik? That's not justice—it's Tyranny."

"Tyranny?" Sarah cut in, her voice laced with incredulity. "Is it tyranny to stop a maniac from murdering innocent people? Or is it just inconvenient because it doesn't fit into your moral framework?"

Charles' frustration was evident, but Sarah's unyielding tone left him with no room to argue. The weight of her words hung in the air, suffocating the idealism he clung to.

She turned toward the exit, her voice almost flippant. "You two can hash this out however you like. I've done my part. If you still want to tear each other apart, instead of agreeing to disagree and unite for one common cause, that's not my problem anymore."

As she walked out, her steps echoing against the walls of the sub, Charles turned to Erik, his voice tinged with quiet despair. "This isn't the way forward, Erik. We can't let her—"

Erik's gaze remained on Shaw's body, his expression unreadable. "You keep looking ahead, Charles," he said quietly, "Sometimes, you have to face what's right in front of you."

"Besides," Erik added, his voice softening slightly but retaining its firmness, "she did this all to give us a chance. Had she not taken action herself, I would have. It was all a way to give us a shot at bridging our differences."

...

Thankfully, Sarah's earlier act of tech-terrorism—wiping out all human communication devices—seemed to have paid off. No missiles came raining down from the U.S. and Soviet fleets.

Erik, despite coming dangerously close to a dramatic monologue, ultimately kept his mouth shut when his eyes landed on Sarah. Instead, he turned back to Charles and lent a hand in righting the jet. Sarah let out a sigh of relief. No Magneto-induced tantrum. No Professor X in a wheelchair. Win in her book.

She'd been tiptoeing around the whole damn storyline, terrified that one misstep would send everything crashing back into the movie's narrative. But now, it seemed she'd managed to nudge things in a different direction. That was good enough for her.

However, amidst this apparent happy ending, a nagging question loomed in Sarah's mind. How exactly was she going to break the news that she wasn't planning to stick around with the team forever? From the start, she'd been walking a tightrope of deception. She wasn't a mutant, not even from their world. Sure, she'd tried to be truthful, but the evidence and their assumptions painted a different picture.

Staying wasn't an option. But vanishing without a trace wasn't exactly smooth either. They'd probably freak out, and who knows, it might unravel everything she'd just spent all this time holding together.

"Sarah, we need to go back," Raven nudged her, pulling her from her internal monologue.

"Right." Sarah forced a smile, glancing at the remaining mutants—Azazel, the White Queen, Riptide, and Angel. "What's the plan for them?"

"Charles says they're welcome to stay at the X-Mansion as instructors if they're interested. Speaking of, Charles is thinking of turning the place into a school," Raven explained.

Sarah nodded slowly. A school for mutants. Charles' vision was already taking root. She didn't know what to think about accepting radical mutants as teachers, though. Sure, maybe it was a 'keep your enemies close' situation. But handing them over to the CIA? That almost certainly meant a one-way trip to some secret lab somewhere. And that thought made Sarah uneasy. She knew Emma's fate in some realities, and it wasn't pretty.

Emma and Angel, though? She thought they could be redeemed. She'd seen enough timelines to know that Emma had joined the X-Men in some of them, and Angel… well, she was just someone trying to find a place to belong. But Azazel? That guy was a straight-up killer. No redemption there.

Riptide? He was still a question mark.

At times like this, Sarah almost wished for some kind of serum to suppress mutant powers. Maybe it was worth putting on the agenda.

"Sarah, you okay? You've been zoning out all afternoon. I mean, Shaw… You know." Raven's voice dropped, and Sarah could tell she was worried. The image of Erik dragging Shaw's lifeless body still lingered in the air.

Sarah forced a smile, her expression tight. "Nah, it's not Shaw. I've been in worse situations. I'm fine." She paused, taking a slow, steadying breath. "Just thinking."

"About what?" Raven pressed, clearly sensing something was off.

"About the future," Sarah said, voice a little quieter than usual.

Raven smiled and squeezed her hand. "You always think too much, planning for God knows what. Relax a little. Shaw's gone, we won. Now, we celebrate."

Sarah smirked. "Yeah, you're right. Celebration mode, here I come." She squeezed Raven's hand back, her smile turning a little more real. She needed this moment of calm before everything unraveled again. She had time-traveling shenanigans to think about, but for now, she'd let it go.

Overhearing their conversation, Charles looked back at the two, his thoughts a whirl. Was he happy that Raven seemed to be accepting herself and showing her true face? Was he happy it was all over? Happy the team hadn't fallen apart? He wasn't sure. His conversation with Erik had made it clear that had Sarah not stepped in, Erik would've killed Shaw. The fallout would've been inevitable, and the team would've split, going their own way. But Sarah wasn't positioning herself as the leader of mutants. Her decision to kill Shaw, as messy as it was, wouldn't carry the same weight as the ideals Charles was trying to spread. Still… what if one day she did? What would that mean for all of them? That was a problem for the future.

Charles sighed to himself and spoke, "I know defeating Shaw has made you all relax, but now isn't the time to let our guard down." He gave them all a pointed look. "Let's save the celebration for when we're back at the mansion."

Sarah shrugged nonchalantly. "Totally. Guard up. Got it."

With that, the group headed back to the mansion, now officially christened the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters. It was still in its early days, with only a handful of students, but Charles' vision was clear—this was to be a safe haven for mutants. A place where they could belong.