Sarah Across the Multiverse

Chapter 6: Getting tought by the Metal King



General (POV)

Erik gave her a look that felt like it had X-ray vision and a snarky commentary on the side. "Your abilities share a similarity with mine," he said after a moment, his voice thick with reluctant respect. "Both involve manipulating the magnetic field. But you... you've got something extra." He gave a little twitch of his lips. "A spark, if you will."

Sarah couldn't help herself—she rolled her eyes. "Oh, you're full of those, aren't you? 'Extra' sparks and puns. What's next, a joke about me shocking you?"

"Careful," Erik warned, his eyes glinting with mischief, "keep that up, and I'll show you how far your electricity can go."

Sarah smirked, stepping into the tension. "Magnetism tends to drag electrical discharges along for the ride. It's like trying to control a toddler with ADHD—doesn't matter how hard you try to focus, there's always that random explosion of energy. Lightning, though? That's just... natural." She raised an eyebrow, her tone practically purring with confidence. "It's the one thing that just clicks with me."

Erik studied her for a long moment, his face unreadable. "The reason you can't fully separate them is simple. You lack faith in your own abilities." He said it with such finality it felt like he'd just delivered a sermon. "Ambition is good; it drives progress. But real power? Real power comes from control. And that takes time... patience... and a lot of mistakes."

The words landed with a gut punch. Sarah's cocky exterior flickered for a second, revealing the cracks beneath. She was always quick with comebacks, but Erik's calm certainty had a way of making her doubt her own quick fixes.

Seeing her quiet, Erik didn't ease up. "If you want real strength, you need to invest in yourself. Now—" He gestured grandly, like some ancient king about to issue a royal decree, "take out a coin. Manipulate it."

Sarah blinked, almost laughing in disbelief. "Right. 'Coin tricks.' That'll get me ready to conquer the world."

Erik's voice remained deadpan. "Less talk. More power."

Sighing dramatically, Sarah extended her hand, thinking of a coin floating through the air like some corny magic show. The problem? No crowd. No showmanship. Just her, the invisible coin, and Magneto staring at her with the kind of expectation that could freeze a person in place.

Her brow furrowed as the current inside her twisted and flared, crackling like a storm she wasn't fully in control of. Suppressing that electric energy was like holding back a sneeze—you could do it, but it felt... wrong.

Then, a faint hum. A wobble. The coin lifted a fraction of an inch from the ground—more toddler's first steps than a grand finale. But still... progress.

She couldn't help the satisfied grin that tugged at her lips. "Well, look at that. I made a coin levitate. I bet the Avengers are shaking in their boots."

Erik allowed himself a small, approving smile. "It's just the beginning. You're young, and you have vast potential. But you'll need to be patient. Hone the basics."

As they wrapped up the session, Erik threw her a curveball, catching her off guard. "Sarah," he said, his voice low, almost too serious. "How do you perceive your powers? What anchors your control? Is it instinct... or something more?"

Sarah blinked, momentarily speechless. "I... uh..." She fumbled for the words, but it was like trying to hold a conversation while standing in the middle of a lightning storm. Static, everywhere.

Erik raised a brow, his expression a perfect blend of patience and amusement. "Take your time," he said as if giving her permission to contemplate the meaning of life itself. "Ponder it. When you have an answer, let me know." And with that, he turned and walked off like he'd just dropped a philosophical grenade in her lap, leaving her to stew in the quiet.

As the minutes ticked by, Sarah mulled over his words, muttering to herself like someone trying to solve an equation that didn't quite add up. "Electricity feels like an extension of myself. Like another limb... So why can't I stop the discharges when I focus on magnetism?" The question nagged at her, crawling around in her brain like a mosquito she couldn't quite swat away.

Determined, she tried again. She narrowed her focus, pushed her frustration aside, and tried to rein in the crackling electricity that constantly threatened to pop free. The coin flickered to life again, but it wobbled like it wasn't quite sure who was in charge. The more she concentrated, the more she realized that knowing what to do and actually doing it were two entirely different animals. And right now, she was wrestling with a very stubborn one.

The training field lay in eerie silence, the kind that felt almost rehearsed as if the universe had decided to hold its breath for a moment. Scattered debris from previous sessions—twisted rebar, a mangled satellite dish, coins in varying degrees of disarray—glinted under the amber glow of the setting sun. Sarah stood in the middle of it all, arms crossed, glaring at the wreckage like it was personally responsible for ruining her afternoon.

From a few paces away, Erik watched her with that infuriatingly calm posture of his, hands clasped behind his back like he was born to do this mentor thing. His expression was a mix of patience and smugness, the kind you'd get from a chess grandmaster who knew you'd just moved your queen into check without realizing it. "You look skeptical," he said, his voice breaking the stillness with the precision of a well-placed jab.

Sarah didn't even bother to glance at him. "Not skeptical," she replied, flicking her wrist with a lazy grace. A tendril of shadow lashed out and grabbed a coin out of the air with a satisfying thing. "Just... weighing my options. Metal's never been my thing. Too clunky, too slow." She rolled the coin between her fingers, inspecting it like it was some antique she didn't care about, before flicking it back onto the pile with a casual shrug. "This stuff? Feels like an afterthought."

Erik stepped closer, still too calm, and without breaking eye contact, extended his hand. A shard of metal rose from the ground, floating between them like it had just decided to take a little stroll. "Perhaps that's where your mistake lies," he said smoothly, his voice rich with that quiet confidence that made her want to punch him and kiss him at the same time. "Metal responds to will. It bends, flows, and obeys when commanded properly. Master your connection to it, and you'll find there are few forces in the world that can stop you."

Sarah glanced at him sideways, her lips twitching into a smirk. "You always this dramatic, or is this your 'special mentor voice' reserved just for me?"

For a moment, it looked like he might smile—he didn't, but it was close. "Perhaps a bit of both," he admitted, gesturing grandly toward the scattered coins like they were all part of some elaborate magic trick. "Now, shall we begin?"

Sarah cracked her neck with an exaggerated roll of her shoulders as if preparing for a wrestling match. "Fine. Teach me your ways, O Wise Magnet Man."

Ignoring her sarcasm like a true pro, Erik gestured toward the coins. "Start small. Focus on the individual properties of each piece. Metal isn't just a material—it's alive in its own way. Every piece has a resonance. Can you feel it?"

Sarah raised an eyebrow. "Alive, huh? Well, that's either poetic or creepy. Either way, I'm in." She extended her hand, trying to channel her energy in a new way, something quieter, more controlled. Her connection to raw power was like a constant hum in her veins, a background buzz that never fully faded. She reached out, not with her shadows or her lightning, but with a subtle shift in focus. The hum of energy spread outward, rippling through the air like a soft breeze.

The coins trembled. A faint vibration pulsed through them, a ripple that made one coin rise an inch off the ground before it clattered back down with a clink.

Erik's tone was strangely... approving. "Not bad," he said, his voice as neutral as a stone. There was no sarcasm, no hidden barb—just that same steady calm. "But you're still pulling. Magnetism isn't about force—it's about alignment. Metal wants to move. All you have to do is guide it."

Sarah snorted, barely keeping the sarcasm in check. "Right, because guiding a lump of nickel alloy is just so intuitive." She shot him a sideways glance, her smirk turning sharp. "Remind me again how many decades it took you to figure this out?"

"A couple," Erik corrected, a faint grin pulling at his lips, like the past was a bit of an inside joke he wasn't fully ready to share. "But your progress will be faster. Your power isn't raw—it's refined. You simply need focus."

"Focus," Sarah repeated, her voice dripping with dry amusement. "Of course. The answer to all life's problems." She rolled her eyes but closed them anyway, pushing past the layers of doubt and frustration that tried to cloud her mind. She extended her senses, tuning in to the faint vibration of the coins around her. The quiet hum of energy swirled inside her, and this time, one coin rose higher than before. Then another joined it, hovering awkwardly side by side, like two dance partners who had no idea what they were doing but were stubborn enough to try.

"Good," Erik said, his voice quieter, more approving than before. "Feel their weight. Don't fight the energy—let it flow through you."

Sarah opened her eyes and smirked, watching the coins steady themselves. Her grin tugged wider as she made them spin in midair like miniature planets orbiting a nonchalant, slightly misanthropic god. "Look at me. I'm officially a one-woman bank heist."

Erik raised a brow, his lips quirking as he flicked his wrist. The coins zipped toward him, snapping together in a neat stack in his hand as though they had been waiting for him all along. With the kind of effortless grace that only came from years of control, he looked at her. "Don't get cocky."

Sarah raised an eyebrow, leaning against the rubble as if this were all just an average Tuesday. "Show-off."

Erik tossed the stack back into the air with a flick of his wrist. "Your turn."

Feeling the familiar pulse of power thrumming through her, Sarah extended her hand. She concentrated, the hum of energy sharper now, focused. The coins froze midair, suspended in a perfect arc before they broke apart, each piece separating and spinning. They formed a tiny Ferris wheel, a gleaming circle of polished metal in the air, twinkling in the dying light.

"That's more like it," Erik said, nodding approvingly. "Now, something larger."

Sarah's eyes flicked to the twisted piece of rebar nearby. It was big, heavy, and had a real "don't mess with me" vibe. She hesitated, the earlier confidence fading like a sunset behind a storm cloud.

"Don't overthink it," Erik encouraged, his voice taking on that calm, practiced tone of a man who had taught this lesson more times than he cared to admit. "Metal doesn't resist—it responds. Feel its density, its structure. Command it."

Sarah's jaw tightened as she let out a deep breath, focusing on the rebar. She reached for it—not with her shadows or her lightning, but with her connection to the metal, that faint buzz of resonance she was just starting to understand. The rebar quivered slightly, then slowly lifted off the ground. It swayed in the air like a drunk trying to make it to the bar without falling over, but it stayed up.

"Not bad for someone who called it an afterthought," Erik teased, his voice almost amused.

"Careful, old man," Sarah shot back, her voice laced with a mischievous spark. "I might start giving you a run for your money."

Erik's smile deepened, his eyes twinkling with something almost like pride. "That's the idea."

For the next hour, Erik pushed her harder. A steel disc shot toward her like a speeding bullet, and she caught it mid-flight with a magnetic tug that sent it spinning back in his direction before she could even think. He tossed smaller shards of metal into the air, and she deflected them with quick, precise movements, the pieces flying harmlessly off to the side.

"You're learning control," Erik observed, his voice calm but with a subtle edge of approval. "But control under pressure—that's what separates the strong from the truly formidable."

Sarah wiped a bead of sweat from her forehead. "Oh, great. I was just thinking this was too easy."

Erik smirked, his eyes gleaming with mischief. Raising both hands, he sent the scattered shards of metal around them into the air. They hovered, suspended in the space between them like a swarm of angry bees—dangerous, unpredictable, and ready to strike. With a flick of his fingers, they shot toward her, fast but not fast enough to cause real harm—more like an annoying test of reflexes than a full-on attack.

Instinctively, Sarah extended her hands, her connection to the metal sharpening, her power snapping into focus. The shards deflected, spinning off harmlessly. "Nice try," she muttered, her wrist twisting as one of the shards hurtled back toward him.

Erik caught it effortlessly, not even flinching, his expression as calm as ever. "Remember, Sarah—metal isn't just a weapon. It's a tool. A shield. An ally."

Sarah flashed him a sly grin. "Not bad for a first date."

Erik chuckled, a rare warmth in his voice. "Don't get ahead of yourself. This is only the beginning."

The training area stretched out before them, an open expanse filled with hanging objects and metallic debris. Erik turned to her, gesturing to the metal beams overhead.

"Focus on them," he instructed. "Don't try to force it. Let it come naturally, like how your shadow powers do. Just... feel the metal."

Sarah stepped closer, narrowing her eyes at the beams above. She reached out with her senses, feeling the subtle hum of the metal against the static of her other powers. At first, it was barely a whisper—so faint she almost thought it was a trick of the air. But then it was there, undeniably real, a faint pulse that shimmered with magnetic energy. She hesitated, waiting for the metal to respond. And then—finally—the beam trembled.

Magneto's eyes gleamed with approval, the kind of look a proud teacher gives when they've finally made their mark. "Now, command it."

Sarah inhaled just a little too dramatically as if to mock the weight of his words. She extended her arm, almost lazily at first, like she was performing a slow-motion move in a fight she wasn't fully invested in. The beam of metal trembled beneath her focus, lifting a few inches off the ground before swaying like a drunken man on a tightrope. A small, triumphant smile tugged at her lips, but it was quickly doused by a flicker of doubt. It wasn't perfect, but it was something. And something was better than nothing.

Magneto's approving nod didn't go unnoticed. "You're getting it. The metal responds to your energy. Your understanding of magnetism will grow quickly if you keep training. You've already mastered so many aspects of your abilities—this is just an extension of that."

Sarah paused, eyeing the beam like it owed her money. Magnetism, huh? Another set of toys to play with. She could get behind that, but she wasn't going to show too much enthusiasm. Still, as she felt the new energy pulse through her, it clicked. Maybe it was because her shadow powers had always felt so natural, but this... this was different. It was a whole new layer, like a second pair of arms she hadn't realized she was missing.

Magneto, sensing the shift in her, pushed the conversation further. "You don't need to be afraid of power, Sarah. You've already embraced the darkness of your abilities. Why not embrace this as well?"

Sarah raised an eyebrow. Oh, here it comes. The offer to join his side. "I'm not afraid of power, Erik. I just prefer to control it."

Magneto chuckled, a sound that felt a little too much like a challenge. "Control is key. But sometimes, you must allow yourself to release it."

She studied him for a moment, eyes narrowing like she was appraising an unfamiliar weapon. Yeah, Magneto was all about power. But she wasn't about to be anyone's tool—not his, not anyone's. "I'm not joining your side, Erik," she said, as bluntly as possible. "But I'll take the training. Keep your offer to revolutionize the world, I'm just here for the skills."

Magneto's grin was sly, a glimmer of something unspoken behind it. "I wouldn't expect anything less. But consider this: Sometimes, it's better to learn from those who understand power the most."

Sarah didn't respond right away. She had nothing to say to that. Magneto wasn't a fool. He knew exactly what he was doing—offering her power, dangling it in front of her like the proverbial carrot. But she wasn't interested in becoming a pawn in his game. Still, the idea of refining her powers under his watchful eye was... oddly tempting. A challenge, she thought again. And challenges were something she excelled at.

The next few days were a blur of metallic chaos. Sarah spent more and more time in the training field, manipulating metal until she was barely aware of what she was doing. She twisted beams, lifted slabs, and turned them into intricate shapes—almost effortlessly. It felt natural, almost like breathing, and it was exhilarating. The metallic air around her hummed with potential, a buzz that made her want to stretch it further, push it beyond what she knew she could do. But, of course, she never let her guard down. Magneto might be useful, but trust was in limited supply.

As time wore on, though, she found herself drawn into the complexity of the team's growing tension. There was Banshee, still flailing in the air like a bird with a broken wing, Darwin struggling to understand what the hell was going on with his powers, and Alex—well, Alex was too busy with his own ego to be of much help. They were all part of the same messy equation, but none of them had the clarity Sarah had. They were still figuring out what kind of team they wanted to be.

And then there was Mystique. Her. Sarah had been watching her for a while now. It wasn't lost on her that Mystique was wrestling with who she was—her identity, her allegiance, torn between the cold calculations of Charles and the more radical, "fighting fire with fire" rhetoric of Erik. Sarah knew there was a bond there, a strange, almost invisible connection that neither of them was acknowledging. Not yet, anyway. Mystique wasn't someone you could just sway. But that didn't mean she wasn't someone worth keeping an eye on.

In the midst of all this, Magneto remained a constant. They didn't talk about the big stuff—the stuff that mattered. But there was an understanding between them. He trained her hard, pushed her limits, and gave her the kind of one-on-one. She wasn't sure if she was learning from him or despite him, but either way, her skills were growing. And that was what mattered.

"As the team continued to grow, Sarah found herself more of an observer than a participant. Magneto was no fool. He knew she wasn't about to join his cause, and Charles probably had a clue about her 'neutral' stance. Still, she didn't care. She wasn't here to stay—50 years in the past? Hell no! Shaw needed to be taken down, Erik and Charles' eventual fallout prevented, and well, Raven—she wanted to save Raven. What happened after that? Well, that was a problem for later."

For now, though, she'd watch, she'd wait, and she'd keep training. 


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