Sarah Across the Multiverse

General (POV)

Azazel materialized in the chaos, his trademark smirk sharp as his tail lashed out, aiming to capture Alex Summers and drag him into a deadly teleportation dive. Before the tail could coil around its target, Beast intervened with a punch that could've sent Juggernaut stumbling. The impact staggered Azazel for a moment, but he quickly retaliated, teleporting the three of them away in a vortex of crimson smoke.

Sarah scanned the scene, her lips curling into a dry smirk. "Just us left? Against them? Oh yeah, no pressure."

Her sarcasm fell flat as the White Queen and Salvadore loomed across from them.

Darwin stepped forward, all calm determination. "Banshee can handle Angel. I'll take the White Queen."

"Bad plan," Sarah interjected, her tone like a teacher catching a student about to fail spectacularly. "You go toe-to-toe with her, and she'll mind-control you faster than Erik can say 'Magneto.' I'll take her. You and Banshee handle Salvadore."

Darwin frowned but didn't argue. Everyone had seen Sarah in action—especially that orange-flash chaos she'd unleashed during training. Whatever she was packing, it was potent enough to make her claim believable.

"Fine," he said with a reluctant nod, joining Banshee to deal with Salvadore.

That left Sarah squaring off against Emma Frost, whose diamond-sharp smile could've cut glass.

"Tempestas, isn't it?" Emma purred, her voice as smooth as polished crystal and twice as cold. She tilted her head, her smirk practically dripping with disdain. "Why lower yourself to fight for them? Humans despise us. Fear us. Why play their loyal guard dog?"

Sarah didn't flinch. Her arms hung loose at her sides, but her stance was sharp, coiled with intent. "I'm not fighting for them. I'm just not fighting against them. Big difference."

Emma's smirk deepened, her posture deceptively relaxed. Her hands rested idly at her sides, but Sarah wasn't buying the casual act. She could see it in the subtle tension of Emma's movements—the White Queen was primed to strike, waiting for the perfect moment to unleash.

"So noble. And so naive," Emma drawled, her tone like velvet over steel. "Humans will always turn on mutants. You're wasting your time pretending otherwise."

Sarah met Emma's piercing gaze without a flicker of doubt, her lips curling into a half-smirk. "Diamond Barbie, save the doomsday sermon. There are good humans, just like there are bad mutants. The real question is, where's your noble crusade leading? How many humans and mutants are you willing to sacrifice to Shaw's pipe dream?"

Emma's eyes narrowed, the faintest crack in her cool façade. Sarah's gaze flicked across the battlefield, locking briefly on Erik, who was edging closer to the submarine. Bad—he was in position. Once she dealt with Emma, Magneto would reach Shaw. That was something she couldn't let happen. Unseen by the White Queen, her shadows began manipulating the battlefield from behind the shadows.

The White Queen quickly regained her composure, brushing off the jab with a toss of her hair. "Revolutions demand sacrifice," she intoned, her voice laced with righteous zeal. "These sacrifices will pave the way for a golden age for mutants!"

"Shaw's Kool-Aid must be extra strong this week," Sarah quipped, her tone light but her focus razor-sharp. 

Emma's brow twitched at the remark, her smirk faltering just enough to reveal a flicker of irritation. "Enough talk!" she snapped, one hand rising to her temple in a gesture so classically telepathic it might as well have been trademarked. "Prepare to face the consequences of your misguided loyalty!"

Sarah barely had time to think called it before the psionic energy hit her. It wasn't subtle—Emma's mental assault crashed against her like a tidal wave, but it had the same effect as punching a hologram.

Inside, her bio-engineered nanites hummed to life, dissecting and analyzing the energy with gleeful efficiency. The data streamed into Sarah's mind, illuminating possibilities she hadn't dared to consider. This wasn't her first telepathic encounter—Charles' earlier attempt to rummage through her psyche had been met with similarly frustrating results on his end. But this time, she saw the potential.

Not telepathy, exactly, but something more… disruptive. A mental EMP, capable of short-circuiting neural activity in human minds. The thought brought a small, dangerous smile to her lips.

Emma's composure wavered, her confident glare giving way to confusion. "What the…?" she hissed, her eyes narrowing as she probed again, only to be met with the same void. No resistance, no mind to overpower—just emptiness. And worse, an unnerving sensation that her power was being siphoned.

The intel on Sarah did not mention mental defenses. This? This was wrong.

"Problem, Diamond Babe?" Sarah asked, her tone mockingly sweet.

Emma's scowl deepened, her frustration evident. "What are you?"

Sarah's smirk widened, her voice dropping to a low, taunting murmur. "Something you can't break."

...

Meanwhile...

The battlefield vanished as they reappeared high in the air, plummeting toward the ground. Azazel's tail tightened around Alex like a vice, while Beast clung to Azazel's back, his claws digging in with unrelenting force.

With a snarl, Azazel twisted in mid-air, shifting his weight in an attempt to dislodge Beast. "This ends now, Summers!" he growled, his tail tightening in preparation to drop Alex from a lethal height.

"Not if I have a say in it!" Beast roared, leveraging his enhanced strength to throw Azazel off balance. Their descent turned into a chaotic spiral as Alex struggled against the tail's grip.

"Get your tail off me!" Alex shouted, channeling energy into a sharp burst that exploded against Azazel's chest. The blast hit like a sledgehammer, sending all three tumbling apart. Beast maintained his grip, using his momentum to drag Azazel out of teleportation range as they hurtled toward the ground.

They landed with a resounding crash. Azazel crumpled, momentarily winded, as Beast rolled to his feet with feline grace. Alex hovered above, energy crackling in his hands.

"Nice landing, Havok," Beast quipped, brushing sand from his fur. "Seven out of ten for style. Three for form."

Alex shot him a glare. "Stay focused. He's dangerous."

Azazel staggered upright, his smirk replaced by a snarl. "Impressive... but I'm far from finished." With a flick of his tail and a puff of smoke, he vanished.

Alex spun instinctively, firing a pulse of energy as Azazel reappeared behind him. The beam scorched a tree trunk inches from its target.

"Close," Azazel taunted, his tail snapping toward Alex. "But not good enough."

Alex dodged and fired again, but Azazel disappeared in a haze of crimson before the blast connected.

Beast crouched low, his sharp eyes tracking every flicker of movement in the smoke. "He's fast but predictable. Cover me."

"Cover you?!" Alex snapped, barely avoiding another tail strike as Azazel materialized above him. "I'm not exactly a support guy!"

Ignoring the protest, Beast leaped with calculated precision, intercepting Azazel mid-attack. They collided in mid-air, tumbling to the ground in a tangle of fur and crimson limbs. Sand sprayed as Beast wrestled Azazel to the ground, claws sinking into his shoulders.

"You'll find I'm not so easy to shake," Beast growled, his grip unrelenting.

Azazel teleported again, escaping Beast's hold and reappearing behind Alex. "But he is," Azazel sneered, his tail lashing out like a whip.

This time, Alex was ready. He spun and unleashed a concentrated blast of energy. It struck Azazel squarely in the chest, sending him hurtling into the underbrush. Alex hovered closer, a grin spreading across his face.

"You were saying?"

Beast joined him, rolling his shoulders. "Not bad. But don't celebrate yet—he's not done."

Right on cue, red smoke erupted around them. Azazel stepped out of it, battered but defiant, his tail snapping ominously. "I have to admit, you two are fun. But playtime's over."

Alex's hands crackled with renewed energy as Beast crouched, claws ready for the next round. "Bring it," Alex muttered, his eyes locked on Azazel.

...

Further down the beach, Darwin and Banshee squared off against Angel. Hovering above them, her razor-sharp wings gleamed in the sun like deadly blades, her devilish grin widening as the wind from her descent ruffled the sand.

"You boys look lost," Angel taunted, her voice laced with mockery, cutting through the crash of the waves. "Need a map?"

"Need a gag," Darwin shot back, his tone as unflappable as ever.

Angel didn't wait for another quip. With a powerful beat of her wings, she dove, the air hissing as her razor-edged feathers sliced toward them. Darwin shoved Banshee aside, stepping into her path. Her wing struck with lethal intent, but instead of slicing him, her blade-like feathers screeched against his skin, which had morphed into a metallic sheen.

"Cute trick," Angel said, narrowing her eyes as she pulled up sharply, her wings angling her out of harm's way.

"Adaptive survival," Darwin replied, his body shifting back to normal as he dusted off the sand. "You're gonna have to try harder."

From behind him, Banshee staggered upright, cupping his hands around his mouth. "My turn!"

With a breath that seemed to pull in the whole ocean, Banshee unleashed a sonic scream. The sound rippled through the air, visible in its intensity, and hit Angel like a wall. She wobbled mid-flight, her grin twisting into a scowl as she fought to steady herself.

"That all you got?" she sneered, adjusting her flight angle and diving straight for him.

Darwin darted forward, intercepting her with impossible speed. His body adapted again, his limbs elongating into elastic tendrils that wrapped around her mid-dive. Angel's surprise flickered for only a second before she twisted free with a sharp slash of her wings. One feather nicked Darwin's arm, but his skin had already toughened into something impenetrable.

"Focus!" Darwin barked, shifting his stance to block her next attack.

Banshee didn't waste the opening. Another scream ripped through the air, hitting Angel square in the chest. This time, the force sent her careening into the sand, a plume of dust rising as she hit the ground hard.

"Teamwork makes the dream work," Darwin muttered, offering Banshee a nod as he flexed his fingers, readying for another attack.

Banshee smirked, catching his breath. "Don't get used to it. I'm a solo act."

Angel groaned as she pushed herself up, her wings twitching weakly. Gritting her teeth, she glared at them, but her movements were sluggish. Banshee and Darwin closed the distance, moving in tandem without needing to speak.

"Stay down," Darwin advised, his tone steady but unyielding.

For a moment, Angel's expression wavered between defiance and calculation. Her wings twitched again, but she folded them against her back with a snarl, collapsing back into the sand in reluctant surrender.

"Smart choice," Banshee said, his grin sharp as he bent slightly to catch his breath. "Maybe you're not as brainless as you look."

Darwin shot him a sidelong glance. "Let's not press our luck. There's more work to do."

As they turned to head back toward the main battle, Angel's defeated form lingered behind them, her glare burning with quiet fury despite her momentary truce.

...

Sarah's eyes never left Emma, whose attempts to pry into her mind had all been as effective as trying to punch through steel with a rubber mallet. Another telepathic assault crashed into Sarah's mental defenses, and she grinned. Emma's frustration was palpable—Sarah could almost see the cracks forming in the White Queen's pristine composure as she struggled to understand why her powers weren't working.

"Is this all you've got, Diamond Barbie?" Sarah taunted, her voice dripping with mockery, her hands flexing at her sides. The shadows around her coiled and swirled, almost alive, as if eager to be unleashed.

Emma's lips curled into a sneer, but it lacked its usual bite, her confidence visibly shaken. "You think you can stand against me?" she snapped, voice sharp and brittle. "I'll break you down piece by piece."

Sarah gave a lazy shrug, her grin unwavering. "Go ahead. You're welcome to keep embarrassing yourself." Her tone was breezy, but she shifted her stance slightly, readying herself for whatever Emma tried next.

When another telepathic intrusion fizzled out, Sarah saw her moment before Emma could recover from her confusion, a bolt of crackling blue lightning shot from Sarah's fingertips.

"Bzzt! Bzzt!" Sarah quipped, her grin widening.

Emma's reaction was immediate. A brilliant flash enveloped her as she shifted into her diamond form. Her skin hardened into a glimmering, impenetrable surface that caught and reflected the light, making her look like a walking chandelier.

"Ah, there's the White Queen we all know and tolerate," Sarah said, her voice calm but sharp.

Emma took a step forward, her diamond form shimmering in the glow of Sarah's summoned shadows. "You don't get it, do you, Tempestas?" she said, her tone low and menacing. "In this form, your little parlor tricks are useless. That lightning stunt of yours? It might have fried me before, but now…"

Sarah eyed the White Queen's diamond form before her with a smirk. Emma was supposed to be invulnerable in this state—nothing could break her, right? Wrong.

Sarah smiled darkly. What Emma didn't realize was that her diamond form wasn't just a defense; it was also a trap. The moment Emma believed she was untouchable was the exact moment her mind would be at its most vulnerable.

Sarah's shadows danced around her feet, extending like fingers reaching for the cracks in Emma's carefully constructed exterior. But she wasn't just playing with the environment. She was targeting something deeper—Emma's overconfidence. Her illusion shifted, warping the world around them in ways that Emma couldn't immediately grasp. Sarah didn't just want to outfight Emma—she wanted to make her question everything.

"Isn't it cute, Emma?" Sarah purred, her voice almost sweet in the charged atmosphere. "You think this makes you invincible. But you're not invincible. Not here. Not now."

Emma's gaze flickered, her diamond-gloved fists tightening as she prepared to strike. But Sarah's illusion was already sinking in. Emma's reflection in the water shifted her diamond skin cracking, splintering away piece by piece. The illusion was so convincing that it felt real to Emma. Her breath hitched, her hands faltering as she glanced down at herself.

"Wh—what is this?" Emma's voice was shaky, her usual smoothness gone as the cracks in her facade grew deeper. The perfect armor she had relied on her entire life was failing her, and in that split second, Sarah struck.

Without another word, Sarah extended her arm, and the shadows beneath her feet surged forward like living tendrils, wrapping around Emma's legs, anchoring her in place. But that wasn't all. With a snap of her fingers, Sarah conjured a pulse of dark energy—a surge of Hellfire, crackling and bright, aimed directly at Emma's chest.

Emma's body froze as the energy hit her full force. The Hellfire wasn't meant to burn her, though; it was meant to destabilize her diamond form, causing it to flicker and crack even more. The impact was enough to jolt Emma's senses, enough to leave her disoriented, and vulnerable.

Before Emma could react, Sarah a grabbing motion, and the shadows wrapped tighter around the White Queen, their grip unyielding. Emma struggled, but Sarah wasn't about to give her the luxury of a second wind. The shadows pressed against Emma's diamond form like a vice, constricting with deliberate force, cutting off her mobility.

Emma's eyes widened as she fought to break free, but Sarah had already moved on to her next move. With another subtle motion, Sarah's hellfire surged again—this time, it didn't just burn. It corrupted, weakening Emma from within. It was a mental assault disguised as fire, meant to interfere with the psychic and physical harmony Emma needed to maintain her form.

Emma's defenses cracked—literally and figuratively. Her diamond form flickered again, the flawless surface now riddled with deep cracks, and she fell to her knees, gasping for air.

"That's enough," Sarah said, her voice cold and final. "You're done."

Emma tried to raise her hands in defiance, but the shadows had already wrapped around her throat, their tendrils tightening enough to render her immobile. Her breathing became ragged as the Hellfire sizzled against her skin, and her mind was overwhelmed by the conflicting sensations.

Her once-impervious diamond skin was now breaking apart under the pressure. Her once-glorious invulnerability was gone. All that was left was a fractured, panicked woman trying to hold on to the illusion of power she had built.

But it was too late.

With one last, subtle push, Emma's form shattered—metaphorically and literally—her diamond exterior collapsing under the weight of Sarah's relentless barrage. Emma fell to the ground, unconscious but alive, a heap of defeated arrogance.

Sarah stepped back, wiping a trace of fire from her fingertips. Her gaze lingered on Emma's unconscious body for only a moment before she turned toward the rest of the battlefield. Her eye catching Erik disappearing into the submarine.

"That was too easy," Sarah muttered under her breath, "Any second now." 

...

Some time before...

Shaw basked in the energy coursing through him, his every cell alive with nuclear power. His grin widened, his body thrumming with an intoxicating sense of control. He was unstoppable—or so he believed.

Then, the shadows in the corner of the room began to stir.

Shaw's heightened senses twitched, catching the subtle shift in the atmosphere. His grin faltered, replaced by a frown as the darkness warped, writhing unnaturally. From the depths of the shadow, a figure emerged—not human, but undeniably Sarah's shape, formed of liquid darkness, its surface rippling with faint, ominous energy.

The shadow duplicate stepped forward, silent and deliberate, the air around her growing colder. Shaw's body tensed, his instincts screaming danger.

"Admiring yourself, Shaw?" the duplicate purred, its voice a perfect mimic of Sarah's, but sharper—inhuman. "Don't mind me. I'm just here to take what's mine."

Shaw's eyes narrowed, his hands glowing faintly as he summoned his stored energy. "You think a parlor trick like this will stop me?" he sneered, flexing his power.

Before he could strike, the duplicate moved. Tendrils of shadow lashed out with blinding speed, coiling around Shaw's arms and legs. He reacted instinctively, his body flaring with energy as he tried to break free, but the tendrils tightened, anchoring him to the spot.

"What the—" Shaw growled, straining against the unyielding grip. His energy flared again, but something was wrong. The tendrils weren't just restraining him—they were siphoning him.

Shaw's eyes widened in realization as the shadow duplicate's smirk deepened. The tendrils pulsed, drawing not just his life force but the nuclear energy he'd absorbed from the reactor. The room seemed to hum as the power flowed from Shaw's body into the depths of the shadow dimension Sarah controlled, a place he couldn't touch.

"Impossible!" Shaw hissed, his voice cracking as his strength began to ebb.

"Possible," the duplicate corrected, its voice dripping with mockery. "You're not the only one who can absorb energy."

The tendrils tightened, and Shaw staggered, his knees buckling as the energy drain continued. He tried to summon another burst of strength, but every attempt was weaker than the last. The shadows were relentless, feeding on both his vitality and the reactor's energy, leaving him hollow.

The duplicate's form shimmered faintly, its eyes glowing with the power it was siphoning. "You should've been smarter," it taunted, its voice calm and cruel. "All that strength, all that arrogance—and here you are, reduced to nothing."

Shaw's muscles quaked as he fought to pry the tendrils away, but his efforts grew sluggish. His once-commanding presence was fracturing, his movements jerky and desperate. "You... won't... win," he gasped, though even he didn't believe it anymore.

The shadow duplicate leaned in closer, its glowing eyes locking onto Shaw's. "Oh, Shaw," it said softly, almost pityingly. "You already lost."

With a final surge of power, the shadow tendrils drained the last of Shaw's stored energy. His body sagged in their hold, his limbs trembling as his strength deserted him. The air around him stilled, the once-overwhelming hum of nuclear power now silent.

The duplicate stood over him, triumphant, its form flickering as it absorbed the energy into Sarah's shadow dimension. Shaw collapsed to the floor, his body limp and powerless, his breath shallow.

"Goodnight, Shaw," the duplicate said, its voice chillingly calm. Then, with a final smirk, it dissolved into the surrounding darkness, leaving only silence and Shaw's broken body behind in the empty, energy-drained room.