July 1947
New York City pulsed with a post-war energy—a city reeling from recovery. For Magnus, however, the bustling metropolis held secrets far darker and deeper than any boardroom intrigue or industrial merger.
Magnus arrived in New York under the cover of twilight. He moved through the streets silently and stealthily. The city's neon lights, the distant rumble of subways, and the muted echoes of late-night conversations were mere background noise to the him.
He had tasted the raw power of Chi Manipulation—a little over an year ago—and tested it against Emma Frost nonetheless. Now, with Chi coursing through him, he set his sights on his next target.
He wanted an organization for himself. After all he could not go and do even small things on his own. If he has his own organization then he could just give an order and it would be done. And what better option than an underground force comprising of those Mutants that the world had shunned:
The Morlocks.
And the best thing is that they followed the Law of Jungle. The strong ruled them.
He recalled about the Morlocks. A society lurking beneath the city—a society of mutants exiled from the surface, each bearing deformities and powers too raw for polite society. To Magnus, they were far from the outcasts they themselves believed to be; they were potential soldiers, people that he could mold into a force that belonged to him.
The Morlocks were a large community of mutants who felt they were outcasts, living in the underground tunnels beneath New York, New Jersey, and Connecticut. These tunnels were built in the 1950s by the U.S. Government as shelters in case of a national emergency, and later abandoned. The vast majority of the public had no idea these tunnels existed. There were numerous tunnels stretching out of sight, many unexplored. The main tunnel was 50 feet high and ran the length of Manhattan. It was called "the alley" by its inhabitants.
They were founded by Callisto, who discovered the tunnels and moved into them, shortly after they were abandoned. She then proceeded to find other mutants to create a new underground society and maintained the tunnels.
Morlock society had no actual class system, except for the leader who all Morlocks obeyed, somewhat like a huge street gang. The leader was Callisto. Under her reign, Morlocks often raided the surface world, preying on the lower classes so that losses as a result of their activities would not be noticed. They stole furnishings, food, clothing, and the other necessities of life, but sometimes they stole children, too, as many Morlocks were sterile.
Most Morlocks were hideous and deformed, yet another reason for them to dwell away from society. This image of themselves as almost sub-human psychologically affected most Morlocks who felt frustrated, bitter, and vengeful about their situation.
Morlock society had many of its conflicts settled by combat. The decision of who would be the Morlock leader was settled by mortal combat in the past.
Leader(s)
Callisto
Founder(s)
Callisto, Caliban, Masque and Sunder
Current Member(s)
Ash, Berzerker, Blow-Hard, Bouncer, Brute, Chicken Wings, Cybelle, Feral, Grimlock, Healer, Hump, Lightning Bug, Thornn and several unnamed others.
They were all useful in their own rights. There were many ways he could think of to make use of their powers. And best of all to copy them. As for their physical deformities, it was a piece of cake for him.
After all he had all the knowdlege and skills of all the leading geneticist, biologists, etc.
***
Few Minutes Later
His stop was the derelict entrance to an abandoned subway station in lower Manhattan—a passageway said to lead to the labyrinthine tunnels where the Morlocks dwelled. Magnus paused, scanning the graffiti-strewn walls and rusted turnstiles for any sign of recent use. His heightened senses picked up faint murmurs and the distant sound of scuffling. A flicker of movement in the dark confirmed his suspicions.
With measured steps, Magnus descended the staircase, each step not making even a single sound even though it was all quite that even a dropped needle could be heard. The further he ventured, the more the stench of mildew and decay grew. In the murk, figures moved—slightly hunched silhouettes that flitted between broken lights and discarded debris.
He stopped at the threshold of a narrow corridor where the voices grew louder.
He didn't need telepathy to feel it—eyes in the dark, movement just out of reach or so they thought. But he let them be as he waited.
Then came the warning.
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