"Have you gotten that out of your system?" Scott asked, looking down upon the defeated Morlocks as one of their members went around healing them.
It was a unique ability, one that Scott was envious of them possessing, having such a Mutant in the X-Men would be an immense boon. Even more so if he could be trained into a combat medic, capable of entering the battlefield and healing those that would have otherwise been too injured to carry on. It would increase their ability to be an effective unit and lower casualties dramatically.
All by ensuring that people kept to their assigned roles without having to cover for downed teammates.
A big change that would result in massive gains for the X-Men.
"What do you want?" Callisto returned, still looking ready to fight, as did the rest of the Morlocks. Even though Scott had proven himself more than capable of handling their combative members, they were stubborn and determined enough to keep fighting if need be.
Not that he had expected anything less.
"A partnership at the very least," Scott answered honestly, gaze flickering between each member of the Morlocks, not letting his guard down for a second. "I admire you for what you've done here, but I think we both know that it's not sustainable."
"Says you." One Morlock, the one Scott recognised as Masque spat out.
Scott focused his gaze on him entirely. "Yes, I do." He stated firmly. "You have no way to grow food and must rely upon stealing from those above ground. But how long before someone discovers who you are and what you've done and decides to do something about it?"
It was clearly something that a few of them hadn't considered as a possibility, showing Scott just how arrogant the Morlocks were. But some did seem to have considered this possibility, Callisto and Masque amongst them.
That was good news at the least.
So long as the two leading members had considered these possibilities, it boded well for the Morlocks future. Not that Scott had expected any less, he had always been worried that things in this world would be different to those in his memories and while there were differences, for now, it seemed that things were mostly similar to those of Cyclops' world.
The Morlocks in Cyclops' world survived, up until the moment the Marauders massacred much of their populace. Even then, they continued to survive for many more years, their little civil war not enough to bring them to ruin.
It seemed, that so long as Callisto and Masque had a good head on their shoulders like they appeared to have, the Morlocks would survive.
But Scott had not lied when he said it was unsustainable.
Even though they survived for a while, the Morlocks were eventually brought to ruin and if things continued, that fate would repeat itself.
"Perhaps you might welcome that, some of you maybe, but not all." His words sparked reactions that allowed him to clearly mark out who was more likely to become the Tunnellers and the Drain Dwellers. "As is the case for all Mutants though, if war was to break out between humans and Mutants, it would not be the Mutants that emerge victorious. To think or expect otherwise is foolish."
That seemed to spark anger from those who Scott knew for definite would be Tunnellers, but Callisto kept them under wraps with a sharp, warning glance. She then turned back to Scott, studying him and Amelia who had kept quiet throughout the course of the conversation and had done for much of the time spent with Scott when engaging other Mutants.
Amelia was not here to help him recruit Mutants to his cause, that much was clear.
But she was also not going to impede him, that was enough for Scott.
"You have nerve for someone so young," Callisto said, crossing her arms over her chest. "So why not join us here? With your help, we Morlocks might become more sustainable."
It was a weak attempt at recruitment.
An attempt by Callisto to show strength, but expecting to be rebuffed.
They had nothing he wanted and she knew it, but she also recognised that Scott seemed to have something to offer them. However, Callisto did not simply want to ask for it, she wanted him to speak it and so, she pretended to offer him something. It was word games like these that made Scott thankful for Cyclops' memories and instincts. They allowed him to recognise such things easily and guide him on how to handle them.
"I'm afraid, I will have to refuse your generous offer," Scott replied. "Living my life in the sewers just because I am a Mutant is not something I desire."
"Not all of us have the luck of looking human." Callisto rebuked and Scott smirked, seeing that she had taken the bait. He had been waiting for an opportunity like this because even if everything didn't match up with what he saw in his memories, it didn't mean there weren't other uses for the information he had at his fingertips.
Such as raising suspicion and creating false evidence.
"Such luck you have then, that you have come across so many Mutants with such obvious deformities." Scott proclaimed, sounding awed and impressed. "Tell me, how did you accomplish such things? Or was it all simply good luck?"
"You think this is luck?" Masque spat out angrily. "To look subhuman?"
Scott looked down at him, frowning. "Don't twist my words." He warned. "I was not referring to your deformities, but the luck you had in finding others like you. Now I know that New York is a big place, but am I truly to believe that you found all these people before the public did? How is it you've accomplished that when all across the world, people with obvious mutations like yourselves are the first to be spotted and hunted?"
"What are you getting at?" Callisto wondered, her eyes flickering to the corner of her peripheral to look upon Masque.
"I am just wondering how you had such good luck in not just locating Mutants, but those with obvious mutations before anyone else ever discovered them?" Scott doubled down, never outright saying exactly what he was aiming at, already able to see his plan unfolding before his eyes. "You and I have similar goals, to protect Mutants from all those who would prove a threat to them. I don't think it's wrong of me to learn from you, nor for us to work together to achieve that goal."
Cyclops had never trusted Masque and personally, it was clear that he held suspicions that the reason the Morlocks had such a large number of physically deformed Mutants was because of Masque. The Mutants he came across, or the vast majority of them would have been able to pass off as human, just like him. But Masque didn't give them that chance and using his powers, turned them into these grotesque monstrosities before him.
All without their knowing, especially Callisto's.
If Scott could remove Masque, that would leave Callisto and the Morlocks much more united. But more importantly, open to an alliance or even, accepting of membership into the X-Men. While not every one of them was suitable for combat, they could become the start of the Xavier Institute and even reserve members to be called upon in the direst of situations.
"I work for a man who wishes to put together a team of Mutants who will fight for Mutant rights, but not the suppression of human ones. He wants to create a world in which humanity and Mutants can live side-by-side in peaceful coexistence until the time in the distant future when all of humanity completes the next step in their evolution into Mutants." Scott explained. "But we need those willing to fight for those rights, so I offer you that opportunity."
"It's a fool's dream," Callisto replied, shaking her head. "But I suppose if you are a part of it, the dream doesn't seem as farfetched. However, I will have to refuse, but I cannot speak for every one of the Morlocks."
Despite that, Scott already knew the answer when he looked at them, they weren't going to abandon Callisto.
Scott nodded his head, smiling lightly. "Then a partnership then, between the Morlocks and my own team, the X-Men. Should anything ever happen, any problem or any crisis in which you need, call and we will do all we can to help you."
"And in return?"
"Any Mutant that does not wish to live in the sewers with the Morlocks, be sent to the X-Men where we might provide them a different kind of life." There was a pause, Callisto looking not at Masque, but at the pale-skinned Mutant beside her, Caliban.
She then nodded her head. "Very well. We have an agreement." Smiling, Scott stepped forward and extended a hand out toward her, Callisto shaking it firmly. "But do not betray us or I will kill you."
"Perhaps you should not throw stones from a glass house?" He offered, Callisto smiling nastily.
"Don't you worry." She told him. "I will get my house in order."
"If need be, I can handle it for you, as a gift?"
She shook her head. "You defeated me and the Morlocks, but I don't need you to fight my battles for me."
At that moment, Scott received a message, pulling out his phone to see that it was a message from Warren. It was a single letter, clearly, he had not enough time to write a proper message, but that told Scott all he needed to know.
Warren was in danger.
"It appears that you can't give me that gift anyway, considering you have your own problems to handle." Callisto retorted. "Perhaps I should help you as a gift?"
Scott shook his head. "No need." He closed his phone. "I will handle this on my own."
He then turned on his heel, marching down past Amelia and making his way towards the nearest, exit, his footsteps echoing in the sewers. They were determined, but angry, as even when Amelia followed after her, the footsteps she made were overshadowed by Scott's own. But when Scott disappeared from view, swallowed by the shadows of the sewers, none of the Morlocks moved as they continued to hear Scott's fading footsteps.
Though they were not the target of his anger, they had seen what he was capable of. The ease with which he fought against them, and handled their superior numbers with quick wit and strategy with what even now, they thought of as a linear and simple power.
Scott proved that even the simplest of powers could be deadly if in the right hands.
There were no better hands than his and even as his footsteps faded away, the Morlocks knew that whoever or whatever had incurred his wrath, would regret having done so.