You never forget the smell. There are certain things you do forget, like how slippery the rungs are on the way down, how the air gets this thick, muddy feel to it after a couple of hours, but the one thing you never forget is the smell. You can't get away from it. You can't even get used to it. Every time you think that you've just about got yourself accustomed to the stench, a little breeze comes down the tunnel, carrying the smell of fresh shit with it. And that's not to mention the Morlocks themselves. You know when you stick baking soda in the fridge, and after awhile it starts to smell like all the shit you keep in there? That's sort of what happens to your average Morlock. They absorb the stink. No matter how much they wash—and believe me, those poor sods don't get the chance very often—they have this… cloud that follows them around when they visit the surface.

Anyway, I went first, and watched as Mystique and Erik made their way down. Erik was in his full costume. Helmet. Cape. Suit. I tried to tell him what was gonna happen to that fucking cape once we got down here, but he'd have none of it. The man somehow manages to be dignified even down here.

Personally, I need this trip about as much as I need another bloody hole in my head. I sort of owe the Morlocks. They did me a favor awhile back, after the Liberty Island incident. Some of their salvage teams found me washed up near one of the storm drains down by the water, and dragged my sorry carcass back to their little shit city. But far be it from me to decline the first fucking mission I've been given in months. I figured I'd just do my best to look sorta thankful, and not let Calisto catch me alone, so she couldn't get a chance to cash in her debts. Sounded like a good plan at the time, anyway.

Magneto looked around slowly, brow furrowed slightly. The helmet messes with his peripheral vision so he really had to crane his neck a bit. I resisted the urge to smirk—I've always hated that goddamn helmet. It's all show. All flash. The Brotherhood isn't supposed to be about that. Not like I got a bad word against Magneto—I don't. Sometimes I just think he brings class to stuff that don't need it, you know what I mean?

"It appears our guide is late," he said.

"I know the way."

"By all means, Toad, lead on," he said. He didn't question me any further. Later I wondered about that. Maybe he just assumed a guy like me would be familiar with the Morlocks. Maybe he just didn't want to pry. Unlikely, but hell, I'm willing to give the benefit of the doubt, especially to him. Or maybe he knew. Maybe there was never any fucking guide, maybe he knew I'd been down here, that I knew the way. Maybe he was trying to tell me that there was nothing I could do that he couldn't fucking puzzle out.

Maybe I'm just getting paranoid.

I've always had a good sense of direction. I grew up in the city; it sorta comes with the territory. When you lived like I did, you had to know the roads like the back of your hand, in case you needed to leg it.

It wasn't long before we reached a big, rusted iron gate, the entrance to the Morlock city. Calisto—that one-eyed bitch—was waiting for us. The gate swung open, barely missing me as it passed. I glared but Calisto happily ignored it. Now she was all smiles.

"The Brotherhood is always welcome here," she said. Guess she was trying to sound gracious. Sophisticated. It sounded forced. I knew that she didn't want us here. She didn't want us recruiting any of her members, dragging them back topside. I don't think Erik bought it either. They were friendly, but Erik gets this look on his face when he thinks you're giving him the run around. His words are polite, you couldn't catch him saying anything rude—it's just the way he says it that makes it clear that you're not much better than the stuff he just scraped off the bottom of his shoe. Calisto was still all smiles, though. Maybe she was ignoring him. Maybe she was just too stupid to figure out Magneto knew what he knew. I don't know.

You know what I never got? How Calisto got to be the leader of a bunch of poor gits so mutated that they can't live on the fucking surface. Sure, she lost an eye. Sure, she's got a few scars. Doesn't change the fact that she's a pretty. These freaks are living in a sodding shithole, they've cursed humanity and all that, created this whole community full of people like them, and they still elect a her to be their leader. Un-fucking-believable.

I cracked my knuckles as we walked in to the main chamber. It was huge. I gotta hand it to the Morlocks, despite the smell, they picked a great location. The city was made mostly of wood. Everything looked shoddy, like it was about to collapse, but everything was built to the ceiling way above us, and it really had an effect on you. You could hear voices everywhere, echoing off the concrete walls. Kids were playing on the ground level as parents watched on. There weren't many old timers here. Just a few, and they were sitting out on balconies and porches just like fogeys everywhere else.

Lemme tell you, some of these guys made me look right handsome. There was this one guy with a melting face. Like someone'd made him outta mud. I decided that I should come down here more often, when the chip on my shoulder gets a little too big for its own good. Going down there always gives me a little bit of perspective.

"Very impressive," said Erik, and he sounded sincere.

"We've worked very hard," she said, puffing her chest out a little bit. Despite the fact she didn't want him here; a compliment from the Master of Magnetism himself wasn't something to sniff at.

"How many mutants do you have down here? Two hundred, perhaps?"
"Two hundred and seventy seven," Calisto said proudly. "The largest single community of mutants on the planet."

Yeah. Too bad it was in a fucking sewer.

"I was wondering if some of your citizens would be interested in joining my cause," Erik said, smiling warmly at the crowd that was quickly forming around us. Newcomers don't come down to the sewers often.

Calisto plastered on a false smile. It looked painful.

"Anyone who wishes to go with you is free to do so. This is a sanctuary, not a prison," her posture said otherwise. She knew that Magneto was raising an army, that the Island was full to the brim and he was still recruiting more, and more.

"Many thanks," he said, and proceeded to give the same stirring speech that he'd given for years. The time of oppression has come to an end, make a difference, fight the good fight and all that. He manages to make the speech sound off the cuff and sincere every time. I actually caught a few people in the crowd crying before he was through. I just tried to stand straight, and keep my face still like a good little soldier. Because that's what Toad's always been, right? The perfect little soldier. Never questioning orders. Sure, you want Sabretooth guarding you? The impulsive git who fucked up the trial run? The one who fucked up a simple pickup because he spent too long messing with that furry Canadian? Sure boss. No boss, wouldn't dream of arguing, boss. Fuck me.

By the time we left we had a dozen new recruits trailing after us. They looked excited. Nervous, too, but they were about to become part of the most infamous group of mutants the world had ever known. The Brotherhood. Nobody'd mess with them now—you could practically see it on their faces-nobody'd throw rocks or call them 'mutie' anymore.

Not true. People still call me shit all the time. Being a part of the Brotherhood didn't change that at all—it's just now I can beat them to a bloody pulp, if I like.