They were an unnatural group, the Morlocks that was.
United in the sense that they had a common goal, but also so very divided. Scott knew from his memories that the number of Mutants Callisto had was abnormal, especially so many Mutants with physical disfigurements that made them easy to spot. They were often the first to be hunted and killed by Anti-Mutant Mobs.
The fact that Callisto had found so many was certainly impressive and did appear to be a testament to Caliban's abilities. Except, not even Cerebro was that accurate in its identification of Mutants.
Certainly, it could locate the manifestation of Mutant abilities, but it could not distinguish abilities or in what forms the mutation would appear. Yet somehow, Caliban and the Morlocks had been able to find nearly every Mutant not yet killed by mobs that had a physical disfigurement. That unifying factor was definitely a reason why the Morlocks were so united together in a common goal and cause.
It also explained their reason for growing betterment and resentment for the surface world, both humans and other Mutants alike. They were all appearing like the sub-species they claimed to be and found solace in one another's shared suffering, feeding into it and continuing the cycle.
But that in of itself was unnatural.
Scott didn't believe in things like a coincidence, nor had Cyclops.
Everything happened for a reason and was the result of someone's action. When two, seemingly unconnected incidents crossed one another's paths, it was rarely because of something as fictitious as chance. No, it was often the result of some unidentified third parties' influence who stood to gain a great deal from both events.
The Morlocks, despite their claims, could and would not have managed to stumble on so many Mutants just by chance. There was something else at play and Scott had an idea of what, or more specifically who it was.
But it didn't matter if he knew who it was, Callisto needed to see the truth for herself. That was the only way he was going to secure any form of goodwill with the leader of the Morlocks. For all her faults, she did love Mutants and the Morlocks she had created. She wanted the best for them and would not cause undue distress and pain to those under her care.
That might be different in this world, but Scott would be prepared for that.
"Are you sure we're going the right way?" Amelia wondered, holding a handkerchief to her nose in an attempt to stifle the smell that assaulted her as they passed through the sewers. It was dark and tight, but Scott's eyes lit the way for them, he accessed them just enough to make his eyes glow but not enough to discharge any energy.
Not only did it provide light, but it was also prepared to fire at a moment's notice.
"The sewers seem like the most logical place for Mutants to hide, especially in a place as vast as New York," Scott said. "Even if others suspected that Mutants were hiding out down here, very few would want to venture down here."
"For obvious reasons." The last part was muttered quietly but was heard clearly in the quiet bowels of the sewers, the water to their side bubbling, a slight swell coming past them.
Scott looked, Amelia following his gaze.
It was then they felt a wind brushing over them, one that became stronger and forced them to come to a stop. Then it continued to get stronger till they were gripping onto the sides of the wall for a means to stop themselves from being back down the walkway they had come from.
It was then a large, reptilian monster burst out from the sewage water to their left, its maw opening wide in an attempt to chomp down upon them. However, Scott was prepared having expected this ambush to come, his head turning in the wind to unleash his Optic Blasts. They slammed into the reptilian figure and smashed them into the wall on the other side.
The wind stopped at that moment, and Scott quickly fired numerous blasts down into the dark depths. There was no indication of them striking, none except for there being no additional wind-based attack that came their way.
Though, that didn't mean much when numerous more figures began to rush them. One such figure came right from the direction he had fired at, a young man whose left eye glowed in the darkness. From it, fired a blast much in a similar way to his own, though seeming to spark with lightning.
Scott dodged by leaning his head to one side, taking note of the situation as Amelia behind him burst into smoke that rushed across the sewers to safety. She was determined to avoid conflict, almost pacifistic in nature, the opposite of how she appeared when joining Magneto's Acolytes.
Perhaps before things got truly bad, she had been a pacifist?
Perhaps the reason she believed Mutants should hide is that she despised violence?
Scott didn't know, as he focused on the here and now.
There was a Mutant rushing towards him with another not far behind, much larger in size than the fit young man who took point. To his left, the reptilian monster was getting to its feet, shaking its head and would no doubt strike as soon as it was ready. But behind him, two more were coming towards him, one of them he recognised as Callisto.
An ambush was certainly not something that caught him by surprise.
The Morlocks had been quite adept at it, that was before they had split into two separate factions. One led by Masque called the Tunnelers, a more extreme and radical group of Morlocks who attacked the surface world in much grander ways. The other was led by Callisto known as the Drain Dwellers that operated much in the same way as the Morlocks had in the beginning.
It seemed Scott had arrived while the team was still united rather than split, which worked out well for him. The situation was hardly anything to worry about either, he had been training for situations like these since he had arrived at the Xavier Mansion. This was not the younger, weaker version of himself that had struggled in a small town in Iowa.
He had been training for this moment for a long while.
As his eyes glowed, Optic Blasts getting ready, he fired out in front of him. The man in front hesitated, his speed slowing down as he tried to predict where the blast of energy was going. However, they were, to his eyes, badly aimed, hitting the wall to this side.
Except, they bounced off, lancing out straight for the man behind him, striking him in the head and throwing him back. It was a perfect angle packed with enough force that knocked him unconscious instantly, Scott then rushed to close the distance between him and the man in front of him.
The electrical eye blast that fired out, was dodged once more, Scott tracking the movement of his eye and predicting the line of his shot before it was even fired. His judgement proved correct as he stepped around the strike, coming up and landing an open-palm strike to his jaw.
It was far more effective and less dangerous to him than a punch would be, Scott's blow lifting the man slightly off his feet and into the air. There, he gripped hold of one hand, using that to flip the man to the ground back first.
It wasn't a knockout strike, but it was certainly enough to put him out of the fight for some time.
Scott turned then, seeing the two figures closing in on him.
One was coated in electricity that was no doubt being prepared to be discharged in a bolt. Callisto meanwhile took up the rear, ready to take him on in close quarters should he dodge the next strike.
But he didn't stand still, waiting.
Instead, he rushed, leaping across the small canal to the other side of the sewer tunnel, right towards the recovering reptilian. It looked up, having just enough time to see him coming towards it before his Optic Blasts fired once more.
His landing was not perfect, Scott colliding into the wall with some force as his momentum carried him forwards, but that was fine. He turned and fired his Optic Blasts up to Callisto who had leapt after him, throwing her back into the wall, it cracking under the force of her impact. All the while Scott ducked and rolled under the bolt of electricity that was fired at him.
As he came up into a crouch, he fired an Optic Blast of his own, it clashing with the electrical bolt over the sewer canal. Only for a second blast to break through and slam into the Morlock a fraction of a second later.
They were good.
Scott could acknowledge that much.
Their position was not bad, they seemed to have some knowledge of each other's attack patterns and the limits of their abilities. The opening salvo was excellent, using the wind-based powers to trap their movements allowing the reptilian to take them out in one fell swoop was especially good.
But even their preparations for when that failed showed they had been planning and preparing for such encounters long before his arrival.
The only problem was the difference in experience.
Training was good, but it could only take one so far.
They had trained as a unit, prepared as a unit for an engagement like this, but clearly, they had never done it for real. There were moments of hesitation in which they were not sure how to react to the rapid changes in their plans. They hesitated, even more, when their allies were taken out one by one before their eyes.
Even if they had good fundamentals and skills, it was experience that was the true measure of worth. The most naturally talented fighter could be beaten by the most average of people if they lacked experience.
There were always stories of professional fighters suffering losses outside of the ring because in there, the rules existed. But outside, in the real world, there were no rules and if they weren't ready for that fact, they would struggle and fail.
Luckily for Scott, he had the well of experience that Cyclops had accumulated over decades of constant hardship. All that he needed to work on was developing his skills to take full advantage of that experience and from this little test, Scott was certain that he was well on his way to making massive progress.
All that remained now was to ensure the Morlocks recognised how outmatched they were, and then the talks begin. They were a stubborn bunch, ones unwilling to listen or see reason until there was literally no other option for them.
Scott was ready to make that clear.
-X- Line Break -X-
Raising his arms up, Warren let out a cry as he slammed into the roof, body bouncing and rolling to a stop as he crashed. Everything hurt, from the tips of his toes to even the fabric of his hair as he lay there unmoving, breath laboured and pained as blood seeped out onto the cold stone.
'He was right.' Warren thought to himself, grimacing as he tried to raise his wings, only for the slight shift to send stabbing pain throughout his body.
The ambush had been quick and surprising.
He had been listening to the police radio as he often did, keeping an ear out for any major crime that would need his aid. Naturally, there was always something happening in New York and so, without waiting for long, Warren found some action waiting for him.
Except, it had been a trap.
One that he walked right into.
All mannerism of weapons and firepower was unloaded at him as the heavily armed gangsters tried to shoot him out of the sky. He was clipped numerous times, his wings just barely able to carry him to safety before they gave out, they had not gone through the firefight unscathed.
Now here he lay, heavily injured and unable to move his body fully, all the while he thought upon the warning Cyclops had given him. He had been right, whoever the Grady Gang were entering into business with, he had not let Warren move around freely anymore.
Grunting, Warren reached into his pocket, ignoring the pain that wracked his body at the slight and slow movements. There, he pulled out his phone, the screen cracked but still responded as he called the number Cyclops had given him.
He was a prideful guy, but Warren wasn't about to die here.