Sarah Across the Multiverse

General (POV)

The training grounds were silent for a moment, the air thick with anticipation. The usual hum of chatter among the team had fallen away as Sarah stood across from Darwin. He looked like he was ready—focused, calm, though his usual uncertainty about his abilities was still apparent. But today was different. Today, it wasn't just about getting the basic moves down. Today, Charles had decided it was time for a real test.

"Remember, this is a mock battle," Charles's voice echoed in the background, his telepathic presence filling the space. "No one's going to get hurt, but I expect you both to push your limits."

Darwin shifted his weight, his posture relaxed but alert, his mind seemingly racing through every possible scenario. Sarah could feel his uncertainty, his usual defensive posture, but there was a certain quiet determination behind his eyes. He was ready to prove himself, as always.

"You ready?" Sarah asked with a smirk, her tone laced with mock arrogance. She always liked to get into her opponent's head before the battle started.

Darwin nodded, his brow furrowed in concentration. "I'm always ready for a challenge."

Sarah tilted her head, her smile widening. "We'll see about that."

A sudden flash of lightning split the sky, an unwarranted crackle of static charge that ran through the air, a result of Sarah's lightning manipulation. The crackling energy around her fingers seemed to pulse with a mind of its own as she took a step forward. Darwin's eyes immediately darted to her hands, his focus locked on the electric currents dancing across her skin.

"I'll try not to fry you too badly," she added with a grin.

Darwin shifted, his body adapting in real-time as it often did. With his ability to adapt to any physical stimulus, he was always a wild card in battle. Sarah knew she'd have to throw him off balance somehow—he couldn't keep up with every change forever.

The battle began with a sudden rush from Sarah, a flurry of movement as she advanced, using her ice powers to launch a quick series of sharp, jagged ice spikes in Darwin's direction. The projectiles sliced through the air like arrows, the cold gleam of ice catching the light.

Darwin's eyes flared for just a second, and then his body morphed. His skin took on a deep, durable green hue, the texture of his skin growing tougher and more resistant to the cold. The ice spikes collided with him, but instead of piercing through, they shattered on impact, unable to break through the toughened hide Darwin had just adopted.

Sarah's eyes narrowed. So he's using his adaptive ability again—solid defense against ice. She had expected it, but it didn't deter her. In fact, it made the fight all the more interesting.

With a smirk, Sarah pivoted on her heel and launched herself at him, her body twisting in mid-air. As she did, she manipulated the shadows around her, sending out a flurry of dark tendrils that lashed out like whips, aimed directly for Darwin. Her umbrakinesis had always been one of her favorite tricks, the tendrils allowing her to control the darkness and strike with precision.

But Darwin was fast. Too fast.

He adapted instantly, his body shifting to become more agile and elastic, as if he could stretch and twist to avoid anything coming his way. One of the shadow tendrils wrapped around his leg, but he slipped out of it as if his body were made of rubber, leaving the tendril to dissipate in the air like smoke. He immediately countered, attempting to land a punch that would test her defenses.

Sarah grinned. "Nice try," she muttered, her voice carrying the edge of sarcasm. With a flick of her wrist, she summoned a field of electricity, surrounding her body in a protective aura. The punch Darwin threw met a crackling wall of lightning, and though Darwin's body morphed to absorb the electric charge, the force behind the shockwave still pushed him back.

"Impressive," Darwin said, his voice tinged with a hint of admiration as he readied himself for the next move. He knew he couldn't keep adapting to the same technique over and over. He needed to switch it up if he was going to outmaneuver her.

Sarah wasn't giving him any time to think. With another flick of her fingers, the shadows beneath her feet thickened, enveloping her in a sudden burst of illusion. The air around her shimmered as the real Sarah seemed to vanish, replaced by multiple versions of herself, each one a perfect illusion. They moved in all directions, a confusing web of figures that darted toward Darwin from every angle.

Darwin's eyes widened, quickly scanning the illusions as his senses overloaded. He could already feel his body shifting, trying to adapt to the sensory confusion. But this wasn't just an illusion. Sarah had learned to weave her illusion powers with her other abilities, manipulating the shadows to create not just images, but sensations. He couldn't rely on just his eyes to track her; he had to listen, to feel her presence.

One of the Sarahs lunged at him, but before Darwin could react, it dissipated into nothingness, the air thick with the smell of ozone and ice. The real Sarah emerged from the shadows behind him, her hand raised. This time, she wasn't holding a knife or weapon. She was focused on something far more dangerous—the sudden formation of ice beneath Darwin's feet.

Before he could shift his body's adaptive state again, the ground beneath him froze solid, slick and unforgiving. Darwin barely managed to maintain his footing as he adjusted, his body turning to something more fluid and serpentine in an attempt to slide across the ice.

Sarah's eyes flashed with excitement, a playful smile curling on her lips as she watched him struggle. She wasn't sure if she was getting better at this or if Darwin just wasn't anticipating the creative use of her powers.

"You're going to have to do better than that," Sarah taunted, the wind swirling around her as she maintained the ice beneath them, her control over it more precise now than before.

Darwin glared at her, but a spark of challenge flickered in his eyes. "You're not the only one who can adapt."

He pushed off the ice, springing himself toward Sarah, his body shifting again. This time, he adapted to the slippery surface, using it to his advantage, launching himself at her with the force of a spring-loaded mechanism. He aimed to pin her down, but Sarah was ready.

With a swift movement, she conjured a bolt of lightning, aiming it directly at the ground beneath her. The charge raced along the surface, electrifying the ice, and Darwin was forced to dive out of the way, narrowly avoiding the electric trap.

"Is that the best you can do?" Sarah grinned, her energy crackling around her. The battle was far from over, and she could already sense that Darwin was starting to figure her out.

The tension in the air was thick, the sound of their breath the only thing breaking the silence. Darwin had adapted, no doubt about it. Sarah could feel his confidence building, his body already shifting and evolving to counter her next move. She didn't mind—this was where it got fun.

The ice beneath them had begun to crack, but it didn't faze Sarah. She'd already used her powers to trap Darwin once, and now she planned to keep him on his toes.

"You know, Darwin," she called out, her voice laced with sarcasm, "you should really stop trying to adapt so fast. Makes it easier for me to mess with you."

A low chuckle escaped Darwin's lips, but his focus never wavered. He wasn't the type to show uncertainty in the middle of a fight, even if he was clearly struggling to keep up with her mix of illusions, shadow tendrils, and ice.

Sarah's grin widened as she extended her hands, weaving her fingers through the air. The shadows beneath her feet began to pulse, thickening and spreading out in all directions like black ink spilled on water. The shadows twisted, contorting into nightmarish shapes that darted toward Darwin, mimicking her every move. They were just illusions, but they felt real. Her mastery of both shadows and illusions meant she could simulate a thousand different attacks, all of them coming at Darwin from different angles. The trick wasn't fooling him with what he saw—it was fooling him with what he felt.

Darwin's eyes darted in every direction as the shadows lunged at him, the dark tendrils snaking through the air. He dodged the first few, his body shifting into a more nimble, spider-like form, but Sarah wasn't done. She conjured another illusion, this time of herself—except it was an exact replica. The illusion wasn't just a visual copy; it moved just as she did, its movements synchronized to hers in perfect harmony. Darwin took a swing at it, his fist passing right through the illusion with a sound like air rushing through a tunnel.

A soft chuckle from Sarah echoed behind him. The real Sarah had been quietly manipulating the ice below them, and now the surface had turned from slick to dangerous—sharp ice spikes had erupted in a wide ring around Darwin, their jagged tips pointed directly at him.

Darwin spun around just in time to see one of the ice spikes come shooting towards him. He shifted again, his body turning into a flexible, rubbery form, but the ice spiked into his shoulder, momentarily freezing his movement. It was enough to slow him down, but only for a fraction of a second.

"Nice try, but I'm not that easy to pin down," Darwin said, his voice steady, though Sarah could hear the strain in it as he powered through the ice's freezing effect.

"Maybe," Sarah said, barely audible over the rush of wind, "but you're still predictable."

She sent out another wave of shadow tendrils, this time expanding them into a dense black fog. It enveloped the area, blocking his sight and making it harder to track her movements. It wasn't just a visual illusion now—it was sensory overload. The fog shifted, making everything look distorted and warping the air, so even Darwin's enhanced sense of touch and movement became disoriented.

"How do you like that?" Sarah's voice came from all directions, each one a distorted whisper, as though she were everywhere at once. The shadow tendrils twisted and snapped, growing more aggressive, becoming extensions of her will. It wasn't just a fight anymore—it was a test of Darwin's ability to stay grounded.

Darwin's body shifted again, now becoming lighter and faster. He jumped out of the fog, spinning into a crouch to get a better vantage point. He had to act quickly before the sensory disorientation completely threw him off balance.

But Sarah wasn't going to give him that chance.

The ground beneath Darwin shifted—literally. Sarah used her ice powers to cause a new layer of ice to spread beneath him, pushing him to stay in motion. With a snap of her fingers, ice erupted from the ground, creating a maze of frozen barriers that blocked his retreat, forcing him to move forward.

Darwin shifted again, his body adapting to the sudden change in terrain, his form morphing into something lighter, more agile. He darted forward, his goal clear—to get past Sarah's ice constructs and break free from the fog of shadows. But as he advanced, he found the ground below him freezing solid again, the ice locking his feet in place. He was stuck.

Sarah smirked, knowing he wasn't out of tricks yet. Come on, Darwin, she thought. Show me something new.

With a deep breath, Darwin adapted once again, his body shifting into a more liquid-like state. He melted into the ice, becoming a pool of fluid that flowed through the cracks and crevices of the frozen ground, slithering under Sarah's ice barriers like water through a sieve.

"Impressive," Sarah murmured, her eyes watching in fascination. She hadn't seen this form from him before. It was like he was made of liquid, able to slip through any obstacle in his path. It was a powerful adaptation, and she could feel it—the more he adapted, the more challenging it would be for her to keep him contained.

But Sarah had an answer for that.

She extended her hands once again, weaving the shadows tighter, shaping them into a dome around the fluid mass that was Darwin. The shadows twisted together in a seamless web, and with a simple command, Sarah solidified the shadows into an impenetrable sphere, trapping Darwin inside.

He tried to adapt, his body shifting in a thousand different ways to break free, but the shadows held him firm, squeezing in tighter. The cold air around him thickened with ice, the temperature plummeting.

"Getting a little desperate, aren't we?" Sarah teased, her voice coming from just outside the shadow barrier. "You're almost there, Darwin. You just need to keep thinking of something new."

But Darwin wasn't giving up. He twisted and turned inside the shadow dome, his body shifting once again. There was a flicker of a grin on his face as he began to adapt to the very shadows she had used to trap him.

"You keep thinking, Sarah," he said, his voice muffled but clear. "I've got this."

The air crackled with electricity.

Darwin's attempts to break free from the shadow dome had been impressive, but Sarah wasn't about to let him out of her grasp just yet. She had him right where she wanted him—trapped in a sphere of shadow, ice, and uncertainty. He had adapted to her illusions, to her ice, and to her shadows, but Sarah was done holding back.

She could feel the slight tremor in the air—the hum of power, the rush of elemental energy swirling beneath her feet. It was time to escalate. Time to show Darwin just how far her powers reached.

"You're too fast, Darwin," Sarah said, voice dripping with dark amusement. "But that's your problem. You can adapt to everything, but what happens when I change the rules?"

Without a moment's hesitation, she raised her hand toward the sky. The air shifted, and a crack of lightning split the sky. It wasn't a bolt from the heavens, though—Sarah had pulled the energy from the very atmosphere around her. A surge of raw power coursed through her fingertips, crackling in a jagged arc.

Darwin's head snapped up as the first bolt of lightning crashed into the dome, the electric surge arcing through the shadows with terrifying intensity. His body jerked and pulsed, trying to adapt, but it wasn't just the shock of the lightning that hit him—it was the grounding effect. The ice beneath him started to hum with energy, amplifying the electric charge and sending a jolt through his system.

"Like I said," Sarah continued, her tone amused but lethal, "you've got to think faster than I can create."

She snapped her fingers. Another bolt of lightning shot from the sky, this time targeted directly at the trapped Darwin, focusing on the ice and the shadow walls surrounding him. The energy surged again, sparking through the cracks and gaps in the ice, amplifying the pressure.

Darwin screamed, his body shifting into different forms as the electricity surged through him. The liquid form he'd adopted earlier could barely withstand the shock, and his adaptive powers were struggling to keep up with the speed and intensity of the assault.

"You're fast," Sarah mocked. "But not fast enough."

Now it was time for the real punch. The next phase of her assault. Sarah closed her eyes for a brief moment, tapping into a different part of her abilities—the elements. She focused on the moisture in the air, drawing it toward her. A gust of wind whipped around her, carrying the dampness in the air with it. The ice beneath them began to quiver as she called on water, her powers creating a tempest within the arena of their battle.

She extended her hand, and from the ice and mist, water shot up in violent tendrils. The liquid seemed to bend to her will, snaking its way toward Darwin, lashing out like angry serpents. The icy ground cracked again, the water freezing in place before melting into a flood. She wasn't just controlling water—she was manipulating it. Freezing it, turning it into mist, then forcing it to solidify again.

As the water swirled around the trapped Darwin, Sarah sent a pulse of energy to the water—freezing it instantly, encasing him in a block of ice. Darwin fought, shifting again to a more liquid form, but Sarah's control over the water was too precise, too swift. She sensed his movements, anticipating his every shift.

"Adapt all you want," Sarah called out, her voice a taunting whisper. "But when you're frozen in your tracks, what's left to adapt to?"

The water around Darwin began to freeze, encasing him in a thick block of solid ice, his body trying to shift within the prison. For a brief moment, she let him squirm—let him struggle, pushing his body to its limits. But the more he struggled, the tighter the ice became. The lightning's previous charge had already disrupted his system enough that every adaptation felt sluggish, each shift more desperate than the last.

And Sarah wasn't done.

A flick of her wrist sent tendrils of shadow into the icy block, wrapping around Darwin's body. The ice held firm, but the shadows dug in, constricting him further. The battle had moved from physical to psychological. Darwin, in all his glory, had never faced an opponent who could disrupt his body so completely. He was slipping now—he could no longer adapt fast enough to keep up with the freezing waters, the crackling electricity, the constricting shadows.

The battle was almost over.

"Too bad you can't adapt to everything," Sarah said softly, her voice a whisper in the now-thick air. The temperature was dropping rapidly, the wind howling, the storm in full force. It was as though the very elements had aligned against Darwin, and there was nothing he could do to change it.

Then she stopped.

The storm ceased. The shadows, the ice, the water—they all collapsed at once. The atmosphere was calm again, and Darwin was left standing—or rather, swaying—frozen in place, barely able to move. Sarah's power, honed to perfection, had done its job. He couldn't shift quick enough. His adaptations had failed him.

And in that stillness, Sarah took a step forward, her breath steady and calm. "Do you see now?" she asked, her voice low. "No one can adapt to everything."

She'd won. Darwin's body was shaking, his mind clearly overwhelmed by the sheer force of the elements she had unleashed. He wasn't defeated in the sense that he was physically broken, but his confidence had shattered. In the world of adaptations, this was the one thing he couldn't overcome.

But even in victory, Sarah's expression softened. "Darwin, how about it?" Sarah called down, a triumphant smile gracing her lips. The last thing she wanted was to resort to more destructive tactics just to get on the team.

Darwin hesitated for a moment before transforming back to his human form and raising his hands in surrender. "You win," he conceded with a smile. "You have to many unrelated abilities."

"You're not so bad yourself," Sarah admitted. She knew she was a cheat, but credit was due where it was due.

Both Charles and Erik remained speechless, still reeling from the sheer power Sarah had unleashed.

Erik, the first to recover, cast Sarah an admiring glance. "See, Charles? I told you she had immense potential."

After the match, Charles conceded and allowed Sarah to join the mission against Shaw. 

"Hey everyone, the President's about to give a speech. Don't you want to tune in?" Moira interjected, her voice laced with concern as tensions between the U.S. and the Soviet Union continued to escalate.

...

The final image of the President's address flickered off the screen. The air crackled with a tension as thick as Berlin Wall mortar dust. Outside, the world held its breath, a collective pawn in the nuclear chess game. A Soviet freighter, a harbinger of Armageddon bristling with ballistic missiles, steadily sliced through the Caribbean Sea, a steel shark closing in on the established Cuban quarantine line.

US doctrine was brutally clear: any vessel packing that kind of heat crossed that line, it was considered an act of aggression, a potential checkmate. The stakes were ass-clenchingly high. Both sides, the US and the USSR, were like cowboys in a nuclear standoff, each with a hair-trigger temper and enough firepower to turn the planet into a radioactive wasteland.

A full-blown nuclear war would be a global catastrophe. A nightmare scenario that would play right into the hands of Sebastian Shaw, a mutant with a knack for manipulating and absorbing energy like a human capacitor. This Shaw, he believed a nuclear fallout would be like mutant evolution on overdrive, birthing a whole new dominant species.

But here's the rub: even a full-scale meltdown wouldn't be a mutant picnic. Sure, a few freaks like Shaw (with his energy absorption), Azazel (the teleporting Houdini), or Magneto (who could potentially manipulate all that radioactive material) might have some tricks up their sleeves. But the vast majority of mutants would be toast alongside humanity. In the face of that kind of leveling force, everyone was equal opportunity collateral damage.

Shaw's whole mutant supremacy spiel was a tangled mess anyway. The guy talked a big game about mutantkind, but his actions, like snuffing out Darwin, seemed more like twisted tests of who could survive. Survival of the fittest, not mutant brotherhood, seemed to be his motto.

Motivations aside, the situation in Cuba was a pressure cooker on the verge of exploding, and Shaw likely had his greasy fingerprints all over it. The Soviet freighter, his not-so-subtle pawn, was on a collision course to breach the quarantine. Current intel placed its arrival and potential line-crossing at sometime tomorrow, which basically meant the whole world was about to be playing a game of Mutually Assured Destruction.

Time was a luxury they couldn't afford. If they were going to stop this whole thing from snowballing into a nuclear winter, they needed to be on that damn quarantine line within the next 24 hours. The fate of the world, mutants and all, hung in the balance. A heavy silence pressed down on the room as Charles, his voice grim, addressed the team. "We all need to be prepared. Tomorrow's mission is critical."

The potential for a nuclear war hung heavy in the air. Humanity, ill-equipped to handle mutants, had placed the burden on mutants themselves. The CIA's mutant team was a desperate gamble, and tomorrow would be their moment of truth.

Sarah's gaze flickered between the television screen and the faces of her team members, her mind racing with contingencies for the coming battle with Shaw. She knew, intellectually, that Charles and Erik possessed the combined power to defeat their adversary. Yet, her presence introduced an undeniable wildcard – the butterfly effect, as it were.

With a final refinement to their strategy, the well-trained team dispersed for the night. Sarah intended to follow suit, but a subtle shift caught her eye – Erik heading out first.

Sarah couldn't ignore the growing rift between Charles and Erik, a consequence of her own actions. A fragment of their argument, overheard outside Charles' quarters yesterday, echoed in her mind. This was the fissure, the beginning of their ideological split.

Preventing their fallout was paramount. A fractured team, a future where Erik descended into villainy – such a course of events would bring only suffering. Sarah held a deep respect for both men. Charles, her mentor, had guided her. Erik, a kindred spirit perhaps due to their shared magnetic abilities, offered a sense of camaraderie. Their kindness towards her wasn't lost on her.

Sarah navigated the moral grey areas with ease, returning cruelty with retribution, but also repaying kindness in kind. A united front against the coming threats – Days of Future Past, Apocalypse, and beyond – was essential. With Charles and Erik at odds, however, victory would be a far steeper climb.

"Erik," Sarah called out softly, her voice barely a whisper above the tense silence.

She found him on the balcony, his gaze fixed on the distance. The weight of the impending battle, the ethical complexities it presented, seemed etched on his features.

"Sarah?" Erik startled, his voice laced with surprise as he turned to face her. "What troubles you?"

"It's about…" Sarah hesitated, searching for the right words. Honesty was paramount, but she also didn't want to inflame tensions further. "I couldn't help but overhear you and Charles arguing yesterday. Shaw…."

Erik stiffened, his jaw clenching ever so slightly. "So, you're here to side with Charles and tell me not to kill Shaw?" he inquired, a hint of bitterness creeping into his tone.

"No, not at all!" Sarah interjected, shaking her head vigorously. Siding with Charles on this issue was impossible. In fact, in her opinion, when someone kills your loved one, they must pay with their life.

She understood that Charles didn't want Erik to become another Shaw and wanted him to realize that not everything could be solved with violence.

But Charles was wrong about not killing Shaw.

Even with his telepathic abilities, Charles could never fully grasp the pain of the person experiencing such loss. The sorrow he sensed was only a fraction of what the person truly felt.

For Charles's views can sometimes be a bit too idealistic. The real world isn't a perfect utopia, and hatred isn't so easily resolved.

"I won't help Charles stop you from killing Shaw. I understand that Shaw killed your loved ones, and that's a grudge you can't simply let go of."

Sarah understood Charles's perspective. He didn't want Erik to succumb to vengeance, to become another Shaw. 

But Charles was wrong about not killing Shaw. He believed in redemption, in the possibility of overcoming darkness. But Sarah harbored doubts.

Charles, with his telepathy, could only ever glimpse the raw edges of another's pain. The true depths of loss, the searing hatred that could fester in the aftermath of tragedy, remained beyond his grasp. 

Charles, who had grown up in a privileged family, held noble ideals, though his views sometimes bordered on the idealistic. The real world, however, was a harsh teacher, not a utopian classroom. Hatred didn't dissipate with gentle words; it demanded a reckoning.

"Listen, Erik," Sarah began, her voice softening. "I won't try to stop you from doing what you feel you must. Shaw took your loved ones from you," she acknowledged, her voice tinged with empathy, "and that's a wound that festers, a pain that demands retribution."

Erik's laughter echoed across the balcony, a welcome release from the tense atmosphere. He placed a friendly hand on Sarah's shoulder. "Sarah, I truly appreciate your support. Your insights are remarkable."

Sarah met his gaze, a wry smile playing on her lips. The urge to retort with "Women can't have their own perspective?" flared, but she quelled it. There were bigger things at stake.

"What I really wanted to say," Sarah began, her voice firm, "is that regardless of Charles's actions, please don't leave. We need you. I don't want to see you walk away."

Erik stared at her, surprised by the depth of her plea. This young woman, who possessed such maturity in her gaze, had seen right through him. He saw the sincerity etched on her face, and a genuine smile softened his own features. He didn't offer a direct answer, but a slight nod conveyed his understanding.

Either way, Sarah had resolved to take down Shaw in his stead, solving the point of divergence between Erik and Charles. He might hate her for it, but as his "student," she was quite sure he wouldn't mind. 

Killing Shaw wasn't a burden. With the death and destruction she'd left behind in several universes, she had, so far, been an angel. Consciousness, PTSD—yes, she had those, initially. And she paid for them with her own death in those universes, so her consciousness was clear. Isn't that what the Bible stated? Death will clear you of all your sins. Either way, it turned out that ending the lives of evil people was only frowned upon by the 'holier-than-thou' superheroes. Judge, jury, and executioner—that was what she was, what she had been, and what she would always be.