Sarah Across the Multiverse

This volume is a fanfiction based on 无限恐怖 (Terror Infinity) written by the author Zhttty. Some terminologies have been changed to make it fit into Sarah's universe setting.

General (POV)

The biting cold slapped Sarah awake like an ex with unresolved issues. Her spine protested in shivers, but she ignored it. Consciousness flickered back as she tuned into the rhythmic sway of the train floor beneath her. Perfect. Her plan had worked. Eyes closed, she played possum, cataloging her surroundings like a serial multitasker.

Her body hummed differently. No longer the energy construct she was used to—hello, anomaly!—it was now flesh and blood. Fine by her; it just meant adapting her playbook to fit this unexpected twist. Sure, the self-imposed "play human" restrictions were a drag, but hey, nobody said grand plans didn't come with fine print.

"My shadow manipulation and Dawnbreaker should be enough to rob this place blind," she mused internally, a small smirk creeping up. "Let's just keep this heist as low-key as a funeral DJ."

Others stirred. Sarah feigned a yawn as she rose smoothly, but the room's vibe shifted faster than a reality show finale. A voice, cold enough to rival her cryokinesis on an off day, cut through the ambient murmurs:

"Not bad. You're the most qualified among the ones who came this time."

Sarah didn't flinch, though internally, she was halfway through crafting a sarcastic retort. Instead, she let out a chuckle that could only be described as "seasoned assassin meets caffeine-deprived millennial."

Standing before her was a young man with raven-black hair, the kind of guy whose face you'd forget at a bar but remember in a nightmare. Jagged scars crisscrossed his unremarkable features, lending him an air of "Don't mess with me" that he was probably quite proud of.

"Jie Zhang," Sarah murmured, recognition flickering in her eyes. Semi-guide, semi-problem, all attitude.

His stare lingered like a bad Tinder match, the kind that makes you question every swipe. When he finally looked away, the weight lifted, though the unsettling sensation of being dissected under a microscope lingered.

"That chick," Jie muttered to himself, loud enough to ensure she heard. "There's more to her than meets the eye. Even with my A-level abilities, I can't pierce the veil she's woven. Fully armed like she expected this. And what's with the X-Men: First Class cosplay? It's disturbingly accurate."

Sarah fought the urge to snort. Cosplay? Please.

Jie shrugged off his analysis like someone discarding a crumpled receipt. "Whatever. If she doesn't stir trouble, I'll let it slide. But if she crosses the line…" His voice dipped ominously as he lit a cigarette. The glow of the ember seemed to wink at Sarah, daring her to make a move.

Around them, the rest of the crew woke up, their gazes darting between her and Jie like nervous kids at a parent-teacher meeting. Sarah remained nonchalant, a picture of casual menace.

Then, across the train car, her eyes snagged on a cluster of figures clad in all-black. No insignias, no personality—operatives, through and through. Memories flickered: this was straight out of that movie. These were the same operatives who'd stormed the hive.

Sarah's "companions"—four men and one woman—stood nearby, their expressions riddled with disorientation. She could practically hear their thoughts screaming, What fresh hell is this?

"The disheveled guy in the suit has to be Zha Zheng," Sarah mused, mentally cataloging the ensemble of misfits. "The statuesque woman? Screams 'I'm smarter than all of you combined'—Lan Zhan, naturally. The fat dude—so ridiculously round he's like a bad Pixar character—must be Wei Li. Gang Mou, the truck driver, looks like he's been chewed up and spit out by life itself, and the scrawny kid? Xiaoyi Li, still clinging to high school awkwardness like it's his security blanket."

Zha's voice shattered her internal commentary with all the subtlety of a car alarm in a library. "Where are we? Who are you people? What the hell is going on?" he barked in heavily emphasized English, as if volume alone would bridge the language barrier.

The strangers exchanged polite but dismissive glances, then looked away as if avoiding eye contact with a street performer gone rogue. Jie, self-appointed spokesperson and apparent chain-smoking oracle, sighed deeply, as though the weight of his patience had a gym membership.

"Try to remember," he advised with a practiced calm that suggested he'd said this a hundred times before. "It should have implanted everything in your mind."

Sarah sifted through her mental archives like a reluctant student cramming for finals. A strange wave washed over her—primal, raw, and laced with desperation for some. The rules clicked into place: survive, rack up points, and get dumped into the next horror show like a disposable action figure.

"Same as last time," she muttered under her breath, the faintest smirk tugging at her lips. "Survive, score points, rinse, repeat. At least this one's Resident Evil. Could've been Saw."

Jie's voice broke through her thoughts, carrying the kind of grim amusement usually reserved for funeral directors. "Consider yourselves lucky, newbies. Resident Evil? That's kiddie pool-level horror. Even dying here is a cakewalk compared to what's coming. Trust me—you'd prefer this over, say, The Exorcist."

A ripple of unease swept through the group, as though they were slowly realizing their audition for the local escape room had turned into a death sentence. The concept was as twisted as it was simple: bodies as mere vessels, minds hijacked and dropped into cinematic nightmares.

"So, what happens if we, uh... finish?" piped up Wei, puffing out his chest in what might have passed for confidence if it weren't accompanied by the slight quiver in his voice. "Like, we win the game, right? Go home, grab a coffee, post on WeChat?"

Jie's eyes narrowed, a Desert Eagle materialized in his hand. The metallic gleam caught the dim light, and Sarah's lips twitched upward. Of course, this guy had a Desert Eagle. Subtlety clearly wasn't his strong suit.

"You think this is some sci-fi fantasy crap?" Jie drawled, casually spinning the gun like a magician showing off his latest trick. "Finish one game, and you get dropped into another. New plot, new horror, same nightmare. People like you? You're the red shirts. Fodder to keep the roster full. You die, and some fresh sucker gets your spot."

Wei's confidence faltered, but he pushed back, albeit weaker this time. "Maybe the dead just... opted out. Quit the game, found peace, or whatever."

Sarah rolled her eyes, stifling a groan. It was like watching a guy poke a sleeping bear while holding a steak. And, predictably, Jie snapped.

In a flash, he was on Wei, slamming him to the ground with a force that made Sarah wince in secondhand embarrassment. The cold barrel of the Desert Eagle was jammed into Wei's mouth before the poor guy could muster a squeak.

"Think you wanna die?" Jie hissed, his voice low and venomous, eyes gleaming with a predator's edge. "You ever been gutted in a dream? Felt your own skin peel back while maggots crawl out of your insides? No? I have. Three goddamn films, and I'm still here. Freddy Krueger, fifteen newbies, two veterans. Only one other guy and I made it out. You know what dying in a dream feels like? Like this."

His voice crescendoed into a roar, the sound bouncing off the train walls and sending the others scrambling to pull him off. Zha led the charge, aided by Gang, while the rest hung back, wide-eyed and useless.

Sarah leaned casually against the wall, arms crossed, her expression an unreadable mix of indifference and boredom. This? Oh, this was just a classic power play—Jie marking his territory. A little amateur theatrics that barely registered on her radar. But, as the chaos unfolded, her hand moved almost reflexively, slipping behind her back. Her fingers brushed against something leathery tucked in an open cabinet of the train compartment.

Her pupils contracted sharply, then dilated back to normal. No way. Please tell me it's not… She zeroed in on the unmistakable texture—leathery, unmistakable... a backpack. Viruses and vaccines. Holy hell, jackpot.

This was unexpected, a little gift from the universe wrapped up in a neat little plot twist. No side-quests, no stupid point grind, and sure as hell no "Game Master-approved" rewards. Just a backpack stuffed with potential game-changers—something that could elevate her powers beyond their usual, uh, "punchy" limitations. She could practically feel her neurons start firing just thinking about it. Even better it came with telekinesis, which gave her an excuse to have telekinesis. Hell, Alice's special version of this junk made her stronger, faster, and pretty much the whole package deal.

But no. Sarah wasn't stupid. Her hand hovered, temptation tugging at her. She could practically hear her own inner monologue screaming take it. But she pulled back, her hand retreating slowly, her gaze never leaving the unfolding drama between Jie and the others. This wasn't the time to rush. She was too good for that.

Meanwhile, Jie, his little tantrum clearly winding down, settled back into his seat, twirling his pistol like it was a goddamn fidget spinner. "Remember," he hissed with that unsettling calm, "death in these movies is permanent. Die at the hands of these horrors, and you'll face a fate worse than your wildest nightmares. If you lack the will to survive, just end it yourselves now."

"Isn't there a way back to our bodies?" Lan, the statuesque woman, cut in, her voice tight with anxiety.

Sarah's eyes narrowed. Ah, Lan. Now, this was interesting. The way she kept glancing over at her. A little too much interest for comfort. Hm, what's the deal with that? She furrowed her brow, scanning the woman with a mix of curiosity and mild suspicion. Lan's sudden fascination with her was a bit... much. Sure, they were both stuck in this mess together, but they were strangers, weren't they? Oh, right. Her. Zha.

For a second, Sarah couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy. Such a shame, Lan, you devolved into a lovesick damsel after falling for Zha. You could've been better than this, but you let your heart get all tangled up in that wreck of a situation.

But hey, who was she to judge? Lan wasn't her problem.

Still, the woman kept sneaking peeks at her. Have you never seen a blonde before? Sarah said to herself. She really couldn't shake the feeling of Lan's eyes on her—like a fly buzzing around, annoying but impossible to ignore. Meanwhile, Jie was in the midst of another one of his speeches, acting like he was the star of some over-the-top action flick.

"I told you from the start," he bellowed, hands thrown wide like he was about to kick off a Shakespearean tragedy. "This ain't no digital playground, folks. Think this is human tech? Nah, it's a divine Game of Thrones, and we're just pawns, dancing for some unseen audience. They yank us from our lives, drop us into these psycho-thrillers, and we're stuck. No way out."

Cue the obligatory heavy silence—like he'd just dropped the mic. It was a whole monologue, but honestly, Sarah could feel Lan's whole 'gazing-at-a-constellation' vibe come alive. She wasn't having it. Lan's usual 'everything's gonna be fine' song got hit with the skepticism train.

"Hope?" Lan echoed, her voice dripping with doubt. "You're selling us an escape, Jie?"

Jie did that thing where he looked all 'mysterious but also annoyed'—you know, the kind of look you give when your pizza arrives late, and it's cold. "The newbies," he said, voice sliding into that cocky tone he saved for important moments, "they've got potential. So yeah, there might be a way out after all."

Dun-dun-dun. Everyone else was eating this up like it was the last episode of a reality show. The gasps, the wide-eyed stares. But Sarah? She was too busy being cynical.

"Human flaw," she muttered under her breath, ignoring the flurry of hopeful looks from the group. "Only realizing life's worth when you're about to lose it."

Jie, undeterred, threw out the next bombshell. "Every mission—surviving a horror flick—earns you points. A thousand points get you something real special." He grinned. "Like, say, another hundred days in this hellhole."

Gang's eye-roll was practically audible. "Are you out of your mind? Who wants more time in this nightmare? That's just begging for a one-way ticket to 'Murderville.'"

But Jie? Classic. He just chuckled, all smug, like he'd just told the world's greatest joke.

Brainiac Lan furrowed her brows. "No, no. I think I get it." She paused, clearly thinking her way through it. "Horror films—there's a wide spectrum. Some are grounded in science, like Resident Evil, Alien. So the reward could be... a slice of normalcy in all this chaos."

Jie snapped his fingers. "Exactly! A hundred extra days of boring, calm existence. Imagine—after surviving terror, after everything, getting to enjoy a few days without running for your life."

A tremor rippled through Zha as his brain had just caught up to the concept of basic human needs. His eyes went wide, as though he'd just figured out the cheat code to life. Yeah, the reward? It wasn't about extra days in this hellscape—it was about the banality of it. The very simplicity of a life without constant chaos. Sarah couldn't help but smirk. The real power of that reward wasn't in the number of days. It was in the fact that, once you'd stared death in the face long enough, normalcy became the ultimate prize. It wasn't about the blood or the gore anymore. It was about just... existing—in peace. And that? That was a sick twist.

But for now, the mission was still the hot topic, like the next big blockbuster no one could stop talking about. The specifics were still locked away, just out of reach, leaving everyone to stew in uncertainty.

Sarah? She wasn't sweating it. She'd already read this novel, and spoiler alert: she knew the plot twists. Soon, the difficulty would crank up to "impossible," and she was so out before the first new level kicked in.

Jie couldn't help himself—his voice practically oozed sleaze, like a discount car salesman who was way too invested in his pitch. "Oh, it's not just about buying extra days in this charming hellscape, folks. You can totally snag other goodies with your hard-earned points! Check out this little number." He waved a Desert Eagle around like it was the Holy Grail. "Infinite ammo. Yours for just a hundred points. A steal, really—compared to ten whole days of life. Oh, and if you want to give your brain a little upgrade? Boost your mental prowess, your reflexes, muscles, immune system... all that jazz, for just one point per day of life extension. Everyone starts with a hundred in each category, right? Survive one film, double your potential! Survive a hundred films, and congratulations—you're officially superhuman!"

The bespectacled girl, who looked like she was too cool for all this salesmanship, cut through the charade. "Alright, enough with the infomercial, Mr. Discount Madman. What's the price tag for getting back to our real lives?"

Jie didn't miss a beat. "Fifty thousand points!" he announced with all the flair of someone about to win the lottery. He casually lit another cigarette, like this wasn't the most absurd thing he'd ever said. "Survive fifty horror films—no ifs, ands, or buts—and boom, you're out of here."

That hit harder than a truck. Fifty films. Fifty brushes with death, just to get back to a life that might not even be yours anymore. It was almost funny, in a twisted way. Despair clung to the air, but there was something else too. Defiance. In their eyes, Sarah saw the spark of it—something that wasn't just about surviving; it was about fighting back.

"Of course," Jie continued, sensing the shift in the room, "there's the base reward of a thousand points per film. And hey, you can grab extras within the films themselves. Like, explaining the rules to newbies." He winked at them. "According to the 'Game Master,' that's worth a hundred points. Speaking of which…" He raised his wrist, showing off a sleek black that looked like it belonged to some ancient god who couldn't quite decide if he wanted to be functional or a fashion statement.

Sarah's gaze flicked to her own wrist, her fingers brushing over the cool metal. Her watch was ticking down—three hours, seven minutes. Beneath the time, various data points pulsed, categorizing everything from zombies to newbies. The real kicker? The watch wasn't just a timer. It was some kind of twisted tool for the Game Master, pulling at the very essence of cause and effect in this warped reality.

Jie's voice droned on, oblivious to the fact that everyone was kind of done with his bizarre game show host routine. "One point per ten zombies. A hundred for each crawler. And a thousand for every newbie…"

His eyes glittered with something far darker now, scanning over Zha's group like a predator sizing up its prey. "Oh, and negative points, of course...at the end of a movie, means death. Gotta keep things interesting, right?"

The sneer on Jie's face was almost cartoonish, but the tension in the room? That was real. "So, any questions? Because this horror film's about to start, and you're all gonna need to get cozy with your new 'roles.'"

Lan stayed silent, her eyes flicking between Zha and the guide like a chess player eyeing the board for the next move. Sarah raised an eyebrow. Hadn't they just met? What was with that silent little exchange? If this was collusion, it was the subtle kind—like a ninja with a whisper, but way more suspicious.

Tactician Zha gave a barely noticeable nod. Lan, taking the cue, spoke up, her voice steady. "One last clarification. I remember 'Resident Evil 1.' The T-virus outbreak starts in Raccoon City's lab. If we escape before then, using this train carriage, wouldn't we be safe?"

Jie tilted his head, like someone who'd just been handed a terrible pun but couldn't help but laugh. His eyes narrowed with amusement. "Look at your watches," he said, his voice like a bad salesman's pitch. "See the name in the corner? Speak it."

A chorus of voices echoed, reluctantly following the instructions. "James Shade!"

With one fluid motion, all their gazes snapped to a foreign soldier, a tall black man, suddenly bathed in eerie light as he'd stepped out of some mystical soap opera. For a split second, he was glowing, all dramatic and mysterious, before the light faded and he was back to normal.

Jie didn't miss a beat. "This guy? He is the leader. Leads the operatives in the film. And here's the kicker: This is an area-specific horror movie. The nightmare plays out in the lab. So, don't go thinking you can run off to the nice, peaceful woods." His eyes gleamed. "You step more than 100 meters outside this building... boom. Game over. Understood?" He leaned back, relishing the silence. "And when one of your characters dies? Everyone tied to them in the plot gets stuck. Trapped. No more escaping the chaos. The only option? Survive."

Strategist Zha interrupted as if trying to decode Jie's cryptic nonsense. "This Game Master you keep mentioning—who exactly is it?"

Jie gave a nonchalant shrug like it was the least important thing in the world. "Think of it like the guy pulling the strings in this messed-up circus. It rewards you with points, handles the transactions, and..." He paused for effect, eyes glazing over. "Honestly? No clue what it is. Just a giant glowing ball of light. Seems legit, right?"

The ever-sharp Lan, however, wasn't done yet. Her gaze locked on Jie, piercing and direct. "And what does this countdown mean?" She gestured to the ominous timer ticking away on their watches, the seconds creeping toward some inevitable doom.

Jie took a drag from his cigarette, watching the smoke swirl like a bad omen. "Ah, that? It's simple. The timer marks how long you get to stay in this particular horror movie. Make it to zero, and you get whisked back to the Game Master, rewards in hand. Survive the next terror fest. Rinse and repeat."

Just as the tension started to thicken like a bad thriller plot, Xiaoyi—quiet up to this point—broke the silence with the subtlety of a sledgehammer. "Her!" He jabbed a finger at Sarah, still lounging in the corner like she didn't have a care in the world. "She! Who is she? Another veteran like you?"

Since arriving in this bizarre reality, his eyes kept wandering back to the blonde woman, who looked like she was lost in thought—or perhaps just zoned out in some existential crisis. Either way, the curiosity burned in him. And no, it wasn't just her nearly escaping her outfit that had his attention (though that certainly didn't help).

Blue eyes glittered beneath her golden hair, and her outfit—well, let's just say it was hard to focus on anything else. The bodysuit, deep blue and impossibly sleek, clung to her like it was a second skin, tracing every curve with the precision of a hyper-stylized comic book artist. The yellow accents weren't just for flair—they practically shouted agility and strength, highlighting her waist and shoulders. Oh, and the deep V-cut at the neck? Bold move, especially with the mysterious power probably lurking beneath all that tight, shiny fabric. If it weren't for the fact that she was a walking, talking comic book character, Xiaoyi might've sworn she was Tempestas in the flesh. But... nah, couldn't be. 

COSPLAY? No way. Xiaoyi had seen his fair share of cosplay attempts. Most were laughable, butchered renditions that made him want to cry—and not in a good way. But Sarah's outfit? That wasn't some half-baked knockoff you'd find at a budget Halloween store. This was top-tier, movie-quality, too good to be real. The material, the fit, the detailing... there was no way this was a cheap costume.

So, what was his conclusion? She had to be the real deal. But—how? How could she be some character ripped straight from a comic book, standing right in front of him? No, it was impossible. Maybe he was losing his mind. Yeah, that seemed like the more likely explanation.

Sarah, whose uncanny resemblance to Tempestas in both style and demeanor made her seem almost like a doppelgänger amidst the confusion.

It wasn't just Xiaoyi; everyone else seemed hypnotized by her presence. Her blonde hair, her body like it was carved out of some otherworldly material, the confidence radiating off her despite the icy walls she had built around herself. She practically screamed mystery... or maybe it was just the complete lack of emotion that made her fascinating. Who knew?

Sarah blinked, caught off guard by the sudden attention. With a slight furrow of confusion on her face, she finally shook off her thoughts and looked up, meeting their eyes with the sort of casual indifference that only someone who didn't care could pull off. "Hmm? What's going on with you guys... Is there something wrong?"

Silence settled over the group like a bad fart—uncomfortable and lingering. Just as the tension threatened to swallow them whole, Jie broke it, his voice booming like he was about to make a dramatic announcement at a high school assembly. "Okay, okay, she's just like you—a newbie. Now, if you have questions, ask her yourselves," he said, giving Sarah a look that could only be described as meaningful. Whatever that meant.

And then, just to really punctuate the moment, the train's brakes let out a screech that rattled the very air, signaling the beginning of whatever nightmarish game they were trapped in.

Jie, ever the attention-seeker, flicked the cigarette aside and whipped out a Desert Eagle like he was about to save the world. "Alright, people, let's get this show on the road. From now on, they can hear us. Every word we speak about the game? Ten points. And negative points? That means fewer rewards next round. So, rookies... you better survive the hell out of this."