The Eloi made good time, traversing the dark waters between America and Africa, and thankfully the Morlocks had yet to encounter any serious storms or other troubles, save Lucid's sea-sickness. They took turns, alternating who drove, who slept, and who stood by.

Evan was now standing by, sitting at the back of the boat, his knees drawn up against his chest, his arms wrapped around them. He felt the cold winds, but that was not chilled him to the bone. Thoughts of the Hungan did that. What he would do to Callisto frightened him more. He well remembered what had happened to Storm, her soul stolen, her body and her powers used to attack her own family and friends. Evan would not let that happen to Callisto.

Torpid made her way over to Evan, plopping down in front of him, tilting her head in a manner most Morlocks recognized. An inquiry.

"I'm fine, Torpid," he replied bitterly, not meeting her inquisitve gaze. She frowned, shook her head once, and tilted it again. Evan, finally, sighed and gave in. "Alright fine, I'm worried, alright...? I'm scared for Callisto." Torpid nodded, her expression solemn, and Evan was reminded that she too had greatly admired their leader, almost like a surrogate mother.  "I care for her a lot," he added, more to himself than the mute little girl.  Torpid frowned, confused, tapping her chest, then gesturing at the other Morlocks, tilting her head once again in curiousity.  "I know we all care for her, Torpid, but its not the same for me... I have... feelings for Callisto.  I..." he hesitated.  He couldn't say it, not yet.

"We'll get her back," he said with something close to a smile on his face, as he reached out and ruffled Torpid's hair, who smiled back innocently. "We'll get her back and head home and continue as we always have. As a family."

Torpid smiled again, nodding her head enthusastically, reminding Evan in some ways of the younger recruits back at the Institute, so innocent, so eager to be happy. He envied them for that, right now. Sighing, he returned to his brooding, as Torpid got up and made her way forward to assist Facade with the piloting. Thus, the cycle continued, where they would sleep, eat, guide the ship, and continue. Just a few more days, and they would reach the African shores. From there it would likely be a simple matter to head inland, and with Calliban's tracking, locate Callisto.

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Thankfully the next few days proved uneventful, as the Morlocks docked in and discreetly made their way inland, avoiding the locals. Facade had managed to procure some heavy robes, able to conceal the features of the Morlocks, and to the eyes of the local inhabitants they appeared as no more than simple pilgrims. Thus, they were left undisturbed as they headed in-land, marching on foot.

Spyke led them. He knew the way, though it was harder to judge on foot than it was from the magnificent view overhead in a Blackbird, something he really wished he and the others had right now. Still, when last they'd been here, the whole team, Evan remembered the way, and he knew where they were going. Calliban confirmed it, as they exited the cities and roads and travelled into the untamed African wilderness.  For once, Spyke was glad he'd taken the wilderness survival course back at Ironback.  A city kid like the old Evan Daniels wouldn't have last as long as Spyke now did.

No beast dared attack their campfires, ringed as they were by Spyke's flaming spikes. Not even the hunting lions were hungry enough to try for prey so very dangerous, and they were left alone, though Torpid often clung to Spyke during the night, her big blue eyes staring out at the darkness of the woods beyond the fire, fearful of what lay out there.

A few more days of travel, and Spyke began to grow impatient. Already they'd given the Hungan more than enough time to carry out whatever plan he had for Callisto, and he longed to press on, but the other Morlocks were unused to the forced marching, despite their conviction. Their bodies would quit before their minds, and they were sorely slowing Spyke down, or so he thought at the time. But even he had to agree that if it came to a pitched fight between the Morlocks and the Hungan's minions, their added strength would be welcome. And as they journey, Spyke relaxed marginally.  And they never complained.  They were used to far worse things in life.

He'd forgotten how beautiful Africa was.

Rugged beauty as far as the eye could see, out here. No manmade sewers, just beautiful savannahs, jungles and desert, untouched by civilization. Out here the animals did not judge the Morlocks any more or less than they judged humans. True, it was hostile and dangerous, but one had to appreciate the natural beauty as well.

Finally, Spyke located their destination, though Calliban was confused by this. By his reckoning (and his power never misled him) Callisto was several miles south of this area. This area was, near as he could tell, deserted. But Spyke drew his attention to another feature that proved otherwise. Great hunks of wood, painstakingly carved into the likeness of people, and gods.

"I recognize this one," stated Calliban, pointing up to one such wooden statue, of a woman with her arms raised high. "This is..."

"My aunt, Storm. I know, Calliban," stated Spyke quietly. His attention was focused on a toppled wooden pillar, bearing the likeness of a serpent coiled around a pillar of stone.  The Hungan's pillar. Growling, a spike popped out of his wrist, tip flaming, as he prepared to destroy it.

"No, you must not do that, Evan..." came a soft, yet insistent voice. Spyke growled, turning to face whoever had dared to interrupt him, yet stopped, when he saw who it was.

Nirambo.

The elder tribesman, who'd come to try and save Storm from the Hungan, what seemed like a lifetime ago. Who'd helped to guide the X-Men to find Storm aboard the Nirouca. And now back in his native land, guiding the tribe that still followed Ororo as a Goddess.

"I... I'm sorry, Nirambo," he said, cooling his spike and retracting it back into his arm, looking for all the world like a kid caught doing something wrong. Nirambo smiled reassuringly.

"Come, nephew of the Windrider... I believe we have much to discuss."

"Yeah, we do."

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Author's Notes:

Can't have the Hungan without Nirambo showing up, can we now? This chapter was a bit rushed, I confess, but it was mostly to set up the proper environment for what comes next.

Kukume: I hadn't really intended this as an Evan-centric fic, but Morlock-centric.  However, it probably seems that way because most of the story is told from his point of view.

Todd Fan: Glad you enjoy it.  But believe me, before Uprising I would've never liked Spyke much either.  He fits in well with the Morlocks though.

Banter: Oh more is on its way.  Glad you like it though, and I agree, sorely underused are the Morlocks.  Everyone else on ff.net wants to write about Gambit and Rogue getting together.  Badly, I might add.  But I digress... back to the story.