The Next Day – Training Room
Sarah (POV)
The training session had been brutal today, pushing me further than I thought possible. Mentally drained but razor-sharp, I stood in the center of the room, eyes locked on the floating mass of metal before me. The weightless shapes twisted and split, their movements a reflection of my commands—controlled, deliberate, but with a raw edge that spoke to something deeper inside me. Iron rods coiled like serpents, and jagged steel strips spun in intricate patterns, all dancing to my will.
The room groaned under the strain, the sound now familiar, almost soothing—a constant hum that mirrored my own heartbeat. Sweat dotted my brow, but my breath remained steady, my focus unyielding. There was a part of me that craved more—a darker hunger waiting to be unleashed. But for now, I held it back, letting the metal bend to my will instead.
Erik stood nearby, arms crossed, his gaze sharp as always, cutting through the air with the same precision as the steel I controlled. He didn't speak much during these sessions—just the occasional nod, a silent approval—but today, there was something different in the air. A tension. A subtle expectation that I couldn't shake.
"You've improved," Erik said, his voice as measured as ever, but there was something else in it today—a quiet edge.
I didn't acknowledge him, my eyes still fixed on the twisting metal before me. "I've been practicing," I muttered, brushing off his words. As if it was that simple.
"Practice," Erik repeated, stepping closer. His boots barely made a sound on the polished floor. "And perhaps… understanding."
I shot him a glance, smirking despite myself. "Understand what? You want me to start preaching your brand of superiority?" I let the words hang in the air, dripping with disdain. "Not gonna happen."
His expression shifted slightly, amused but cold. "And you think your idealism will change the world? You want to hide from the truth, Sarah? To pretend that power won't always matter more than words?"
The metal trembled in my hands, but I steadied it, my eyes narrowing. "I'm not hiding, Erik," I said, voice low, sharp. "You think the world will listen to you if you shove your power in their faces? You're wrong. I know that for a fact." I dropped the last twisted iron rod with a sharp crack, then turned to face him, unwavering. "Power is a tool, Erik. Not a weapon to dominate with."
His smile was thin, a bit evil to my taste. He stepped closer, his voice low and quiet, almost intimate. "You're naïve if you think you can just... protect everyone. You think your kind-hearted speeches will stop the hate? You'll see soon enough—those who hold power, shape the world."
I met his gaze without flinching. "And those who use power to oppress others? They burn the world down."
Erik's smile faltered just for a moment, but it was enough. He stepped back, his eyes not leaving mine. There was something there—acknowledgment, maybe even respect, but also the undercurrent of something deeper. "We'll see," he muttered, his voice flat.
I didn't let the words linger in the air, shaking my head as if to rid myself of the discomfort his presence left. "Erik, power should be used to protect," I said, turning away from him. "To protect yourself, your loved ones, to protect the weak—the ones who can't protect themselves, human or mutants alike. Using your power to hurt and spread fear is not going to end well for you."
I sighed for a minute. "Don't get me wrong, I also disagree with Charles. His ideas are too idealistic."
He didn't respond, but I didn't need him to. His silence said it all.
I walked out of the training room, my mind immediately shifting gears as I thought of Raven. The last conversation we had—more like a standoff, really—had stayed with me. There was something about her, something that pulled at me in ways I didn't fully understand. Her words, her teasing smirks, even the way she pushed my buttons—it left me unsettled, but in a way that made me wonder if I had been too quick to dismiss it.
"Am I falling for her?" I muttered to myself, the thought hitting me like a lightning strike. No. I didn't have time for that. I didn't have time for distractions.
...
The Next Day – Training Grounds at Xavier's Mansion
The sound of my footsteps echoed off the cold stone floors as I made my way into the training hall. Another session, another opportunity to push my limits—or, let's be honest, an excuse to see if Raven could keep up with me.
Today wasn't about showing off. That wasn't my style. No, today was about testing something. Maybe, it was my physical abilities, mind you I am not physically strong, without armor or reinforcement magecraft, maybe it was her skills, or maybe it was something else entirely. I hadn't figured it out yet, but I knew I wasn't walking out of here without getting some kind of answer.
My eyes found Raven immediately. She was leaning against the far wall, looking relaxed, almost bored. But I knew better. Raven was never actually at ease. She was a coil of tension, always ready to spring the moment things went sideways. Even now, her stance betrayed her, subtle as it was.
The others were busy sparring, their shouts and grunts fading into background noise. I'd made it clear, though: today was about Raven and me. Something about the way she moved, the way she spoke, the way we always seemed to circle each other without ever fully committing—it had been gnawing at me. Was it the challenge? The way she pushed my buttons? Or was I just looking for a distraction?
"Ready to work?" I called out, keeping my voice low but sharp as I rolled my shoulders and cracked my neck.
Raven glanced over, a smirk tugging at her lips. "Persistent. I'll give you that."
"I'm thorough," I shot back.
She pushed off the wall, her blue eyes locking onto mine. For a second, I thought I saw something there—something deeper—but it vanished just as quickly as it appeared. "Let's see if you're really ready for this."
Before I could respond, she lunged. No warning, no hesitation—fast and precise, her strikes came at me in rapid succession. I was ready, though. My shadow tendrils lashed out instinctively, intercepting her first hit. The impact sent a thrill through me—not enough to throw me off, but enough to remind me why I loved this.
"You're fast," I said, dodging her next series of attacks with ease. "But you're holding back."
Her lips curved into a sly smile, but her eyes remained cool. "Maybe I don't want to hurt you."
There was something in her tone—something unspoken that made me hesitate for the briefest second. I caught it, though, and pushed the thought aside.
"Not happening," I replied, shifting my stance and grinning despite myself. "Nice try, though."
The fight picked up intensity. Raven was quick, her movements sharp and precise, but I had her rhythm down. My shadows twisted and danced around us, countering every strike she threw. It was almost like a choreographed routine, but this wasn't rehearsed. This was instinct, pure and raw.
At one point, she feinted—a move that could've hit me if I'd let my guard down. But I didn't. I countered, wrapping her legs in shadow and locking her in place.
"Dirty move," she said, laughing as she struggled against the tendrils. "Didn't think you had it in you."
I shrugged, the smirk never leaving my face. "I can be dirty when necessary. You should've known better."
Her laugh echoed through the hall, and for a moment, it felt warmer than it should have. There was something different about her, something that made me feel... unsteady.
When she shifted her weight to break free, our eyes met again. There it was—that flicker of something, something I recognized all too well. It was subtle, but it was there.
The fight slowed, both of us catching our breath. She exhaled deeply, her stance shifting just enough to signal approval. "You're getting better with your abilities. I guess you're holding your own after all."
"Thanks," I said lightly, trying not to let the compliment go to my head. Hand-to-hand wasn't my strongest suit, so hearing it from her meant something, even if I pretended it didn't. "You're not bad yourself."
Her grin turned sly again, but there was something deeper behind it—something I couldn't quite place. "Maybe you're not as bad as I thought."
We stood there for a minute, the silence stretching out between us. It wasn't uncomfortable, though. If anything, it felt... charged. More than just physical tension, though I'd be lying if I said that wasn't part of it.
I wasn't the type to get attached. I didn't do that. But Raven? She was different. She was hard to ignore, and that intrigued me in ways I wasn't ready to admit.
Her eyes lingered on me just a little too long, her expression shifting to something more intense. She smiled again, but it wasn't the teasing smirk from earlier. It was more knowing, almost deliberate. "Nice match," she said, stepping back, her voice softer now. "Same time tomorrow?"
I tilted my head, catching the shift in her gaze. Something about the way she was looking at me felt different—calculated but not cold. My heart beat a little faster, but I hid it behind a casual grin. "We'll see."
Her smile lingered, her eyes flicking over me one last time before she turned and walked away. "'We'll see?' what was that Sarah? You know exactly what is going on. Complicated doesn't even begin to cover it."
...
Later – The Mansion's Rooftop
The day had dragged on endlessly, and by the time I escaped to the rooftop, the mansion was finally quiet. Leaning on the ledge, I watched shadows stretch across the wide mansion grounds and felt the cool evening air brush against my skin. With a sigh, I muttered, "Training, sparring, experimenting... oh, and let's not forget dealing with Erik's intensity. What a headache."
However, my mind soon circled back to Raven, lingering on moments. I had felt something during our sparring. It wasn't about the fight—though the way Raven moved, how her motions flowed, was admirable—there was something else. There was a tension, an undeniable spark. But it wasn't all physical. It was more than that. It was that moment of understanding between us.
"A wrinkle in my plans, huh? Let's see where this goes," I said with a sigh as I leaned against the edge of the roof, letting my breath fog in the cool air. "Nice, this tranquility," I whispered, pushing my earlier thoughts aside. But before I could find some semblance of peace, I felt the air shift behind me.
"I thought I might find you up here," Raven's voice came, softer than usual. I glanced over my shoulder. Raven stood a few feet away, her arms loosely crossed, her usual teasing smirk absent. She stepped closer, her eyes fixed on the horizon, not me.
"And you always manage to find me," I replied, the words tinged with a hint of humor. "Didn't take you for a rooftop kind of person."
She shrugged. "I go where I want." Her tone was light, but there was something else beneath it, something more grounded. "Besides, I just needed some fresh air while I try to figure out some stuff."
I raised an eyebrow at that. "That so?"
She didn't answer immediately, her gaze distant. "Yeah. No, I feel caught between a rock and a hard place."
I huffed a quiet laugh, turning my attention back to the grounds. "You know you can talk about it, right?"
Her silence stretched just long enough to make me look at her again. Her expression was thoughtful, her blue eyes flicking to mine for a moment before returning to the horizon. "It's not easy, is it?" she said finally, her voice softer now. "Figuring out who you're supposed to be in all of this."
I blinked, surprised by the honesty in her tone. "No," I admitted, my voice quieter now. "It's not."
Her lips twitched, a ghost of a smile. "Everyone here wants to tell you what you should be—what they think you should believe."
I nodded, catching the edge in her voice, understanding where she was going with this; she was talking about the way Charles wanted her to embrace her humanity and Erik wanted her to embrace her mutant identity—as if she couldn't be both, as if she had to choose.
"Like I told you yesterday, you don't owe anyone that," I said firmly. "Not Erik. Not Charles. You get to decide who you are, Raven. It's not a camp thing, you know, it's not one camp or the other."
She turned to me fully then, studying me like she was trying to figure out whether I actually believed what I was saying. "And what if what feels right is... not what everyone expects?"
I smiled. "That one is easy, then that's their problem, not yours."
She just stared at me, her expression unreadable. Then, slowly, her lips curved into a small smile. "Not bad advice," she said, her voice light but tinged with something softer.
I smirked, catching a flash of her usual self in that smile. "I have my moments," I quipped, leaning back against the ledge.
Her smile widened slightly, and for a brief second, the weight in her eyes seemed to lift. She walked away, but halfway, she stopped in her tracks and turned back to me. Her smile returned, softer this time, making my heart give an unexpected jolt and my breath catch in my throat. Then, she said, "Thanks," her voice softer than before.
"Don't mention it," I called after her, my voice hesitant.
And just like that, she was gone, disappearing back into the mansion.
I stayed on the roof a little longer, the air cooler now, the sky darker. The flicker of curiosity she left behind stayed with me, though, stubborn and persistent.
"Damn it," I muttered under my breath, trying to ignore how her presence lingered in my mind.
...
As the evening stretched on, the mansion settled into a quieter, almost intimate stillness. The mutants lounged around after a day of training, but there was something about the air that was thick with unspoken tension. Particularly between Erik and Charles. You could feel it, like static before a storm, but I wasn't interested in their drama tonight.
Darwin was in the corner, tinkering with some tech device, while Beast and Alex quietly argued over something. I, on the other hand, was chilling on the couch in the common room, idly swirling a glass of wine in my hand. The dim lighting made the red liquid look darker and more viscous. "Vampire queen sipping on a cup of blood after a restless day," I mused, holding the glass in front of me. I still can't figure out the ins and outs of this body, but however it worked, it was bordering on the nonsensical. Getting drunk, having a period, experiencing pain, sleep, hunger, rage, love, lust – everything was there as if I was a normal human magus, just... weird.
But just as I was musing about this body of mine, in walked Charles. I almost didn't notice him. Almost.
"Sarah," he said, his voice calm and measured, like someone approaching a skittish animal. "Do you have a moment?"
I glanced up, quirking an eyebrow. "For you, Charles? Always," I drawled, leaning back against the cushions. "What's on your mind? Or should I say, whose mind?"
He smiled faintly at the jab, stepping closer but keeping a respectful distance. "I've been reflecting on your abilities," he began, his tone as soft and non-threatening as ever. "Your telekinesis, in particular."
"Impressive, right?" I grinned, letting a ripple of wine rise from the glass and float lazily in the air. "I'd rate it a solid nine out of ten. Could use more dramatic flair, though."
Charles chuckled politely but didn't take the bait. "It's not just the telekinesis that interests me," he said, his expression thoughtful. "I wonder if you might have latent telepathic abilities as well."
I froze mid-motion, the wine dropping back into the glass with a faint splash. "Telepathy?" I echoed, half-laughing. "Sorry to burst your bubble, Professor X, but I don't think so. I mean, unless accidentally eavesdropping on people's innermost thoughts is something I've been doing without realizing it."
"It's not as uncommon as you might think," he replied, his gaze steady. "Telekinesis and telepathy often overlap in ways that suggest they stem from a similar root."
I tilted my head, narrowing my eyes at him. "So, what are you saying? That because I can lift a car with my mind, I might also be able to read someone's grocery list?"
"Something like that," he said with a small smile. "Though telepathy manifests in many forms. It isn't always about hearing thoughts. It can involve altering perception, creating illusions, and even influencing memories. Abilities you've already demonstrated."
That last part gave me pause. I'd been careful not to advertise my memory manipulation to the group, but I'd hinted enough for someone as sharp as Charles to pick up on it. "Okay, sure," I said carefully. "I can tweak memories in someone's mind if I really want to, using illusions. But that's not exactly telepathy, is it?"
"Not in the traditional sense," Charles admitted. "But it's possible that your powers extend beyond what you've explored so far. I'd like to help you uncover their full potential."
I raised an eyebrow. "And what's in it for you? Hoping to turn me into your next star pupil?"
His smile softened, and for once, there wasn't a trace of his usual professorly formality. "No. I only want to help you understand yourself better. That's all."
I studied him for a moment, weighing his words. "Alright," I said finally, setting my glass down. "What's the plan, Professor?"
"We'll start with focus exercises," he said, sitting across from me. "Telepathy often requires an understanding of subtle mental shifts. It's less about force and more about attunement."
"Attunement," I echoed, smirking. "Sounds like a yoga class. Should I grab a mat?"
Charles chuckled. "No need. Just close your eyes and try to center your thoughts. See if you can sense anything beyond yourself. Not words or voices, but... impressions."
I shrugged, settling back into the couch. "Alright, but if this ends with me embarrassing myself, you owe me."
Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath, letting the noise of the mansion fade into the background. At first, all I felt was the usual hum of my own thoughts. Annoyance at Erik and Charles's constant tension. Raven, oh, Raven, my usual thoughts and concerns there. A fleeting craving for food.
And then, as I let go of those distractions, there was something else. A faint pull, like a thread stretching outward, barely perceptible.
"Anything?" Charles's voice was soft, almost distant, as if afraid to break my concentration.
"Maybe," I muttered. "Feels like... I don't know, static? Like something's out there, but I can't grab onto it."
"That's a good start," he said encouragingly. "Focus on the sensation. Let it guide you."
I frowned, trying to tune in deeper, but the moment I pushed, the thread snapped, leaving me with nothing but a dull headache. "Well, that was anticlimactic."
Charles smiled, undeterred. "These things take time. You've already taken the first step, which is more than most achieve on their first attempt."
"Great. So I'm officially mediocre at telepathy," I said with a wry grin. "Guess I'll add that to my résumé."
"I don't mean to interrupt," came Raven's voice from the doorway. She leaned against the frame like she had all the time in the world, her posture relaxed but her knowing smile saying otherwise.
Heat rushed to my cheeks before I could stop it. Charles glanced between us and chuckled softly as he rose from his seat. "You did well, Sarah. We'll try again tomorrow if you're willing."
"Yeah," I replied, brushing off my embarrassment. "Why not? It's not like I've got anything better to do."
"Don't you have a mansion to run, Charles?" Raven asked, her lips curling into a grin that was both playful and sharp. There was an edge beneath her words—a subtle warning that this wasn't just casual teasing.
Charles didn't flinch. His maddeningly patient smirk widened just enough to make Raven roll her eyes. "Oh, I do," he said, his tone smooth and casual. "But I'd be remiss if I didn't remind you both that we'll need everyone's focus for tomorrow's training session." His gaze flicked to me, a glint of amusement in his eyes. "That includes you, of course."
"Noted," I replied, keeping my tone cool even as a smirk tugged at my lips. I folded my arms, matching his look with one of my own—silent, unspoken acknowledgment that I knew exactly what he was up to.
Charles seemed pleased, giving a slight nod of approval. "Good." He pushed off the doorframe, lingering just long enough to make his exit feel deliberate, leaving us with more than just a reminder. "I'll leave you two to... whatever this is." He waved vaguely, the corners of his mouth twitching as if savoring the moment.
As his footsteps retreated down the hall, the room fell into a hush. Raven and I exchanged a glance—part embarrassment, part exasperation, and a whole lot of something neither of us wanted to name just yet.
"Training tomorrow, huh?" I said, breaking the silence with a grin. I pushed off the wall, my smirk sliding back into place, easy and wry. "Guess we better get our heads in the game."
Raven didn't answer right away. Her expression softened, the sharp edges melting into something almost... tender. Her blue eyes lingered on me for a second too long, making my heart stutter before settling into an unfamiliar rhythm. Then, as if she hadn't just shifted the ground beneath me, she gave a small, enigmatic smile—one that spoke volumes without a single word.
She turned to leave, and I couldn't help but watch her go, my own smile lingering. "Guess you won't be coming to my room tonight, huh?" I muttered to myself, half-amused, half-disappointed, and maybe more intrigued than I wanted to admit.