Cyclops' optic beams made sure Scalphunter, Riptide, and Vertigo weren't getting up any time soon. All the while, he kept an eye out for any more Marauders who might emerge from the woodwork.
Bobby whistled as he watched Rogue defeat Arclight. "That's my girlfriend, ladies and gentlemen," he remarked, clearly impressed.
"Keep your head in the game, Iceman," Cyclops advised as he moved to Vessel and Reverb. "Stay on alert for reinforcements from either side while I tend to their injuries." Cyclops produced a medical kit from the belt of his uniform, treating the more serious of the Morlocks' injuries.
Even while badly injured, Reverb narrowed his eyes in distrust at Cyclops' actions. "Why ... are you...?"
"Helping you? So that you don't die on us while we get you two out of here. There's something we need you to fix."
"Why would ... we ever help you?"
Iceman sighed, his icy breath visible. "Would you rather stay here and take your chances with the Morlocks? Or even worse, those pesky humans you hate so much? I'm sure you'll be in good hands with them."
"That would be a better fate," Vessel growled, "than surrendering. We would rather die."
Cyclops knocked them both out with carefully-modulated optic blasts. "Fine. We tried being nice."
Heavy footsteps and heavier breathing alerted their attention to a hulking Morlock approaching them. He looked like twenty miles of war-torn road, covered in scars, scratches, and blood that probably wasn't his own. "You hurt Gene Nation," the mutant known as Hemingway announced in a voice that was both deep and raspy, "so I hurt you."