B. Radtz
After the last tumultuous ten issues marked by Claremont’s departure from the book he cultivated from the halcyon days where he and his co-creators were given free rein, that would form the biggest franchise of comics the industry has ever known, the title was in a bit of disarray. In comes Scott Lobdell as the sole writer, and not just scripting the plots of Jim Lee and Whilce Portacio. These issues mark a grim milestone — the end of the Morlocks as a real presence in the X-Men mythos. Coming right after the Muir Island Saga and just before the “X-Cutioner’s Song,” this short arc bridges the line between Claremont’s psychologically dense storytelling and the flashier, more action-driven ‘90s tone. It’s this story that will help set the tone during Lobdell’s run in the X-Office.
The X-Men respond to a violent outbreak in Manhattan’s subway tunnels — the Morlocks, long thought dead or scattered since the Mutant Massacre, have returned. But they’re not the same: twisted, traumatized, and led by the enigmatic Mikhail Rasputin, Colossus’s unstable older brother. Mikhail, fresh from a reality where he ruled as a god, views life and death through a broken lens. When he encounters the Morlocks — mutants defined by pain, deformity, and rejection — he offers them what he calls freedom. But his idea of salvation is horrifying: he opens a dimensional portal, flooding the tunnels, leading to the mass drowning of the Morlocks. But they’re not drowned out at all. Turns out that they’re transported to the world where Mikhail was trapped for decades.
The Morlocks here are mentally unstable. After years of abuse from the human population, they were forced to move below the city streets, where they lived a mostly peaceful life. Until the Mutant Massacre. After years of abuse and disregard for them since 1987, writers didn’t know quite what to do with them. While never the most fleshed out, there were a few moments where we saw that they’re more than just some ugly freaks, who fled the surface, trying to hide the hurt and pain that rejection was putting them through.
This arc functions as both tragedy and commentary. The Morlocks had always represented mutants who couldn’t “pass” in human society — those whose mutations marked them as outsiders even among outcasts. Their fate here, engineered by Mikhail’s misguided mercy, is devastating but symbolic: the end of an era for mutants defined by pain and exclusion.
Storm’s role is crucial. She began her leadership journey with the Morlocks years earlier (Uncanny X-Men #170), and here she witnesses the consequences of the world’s and mutantkind’s failures. Her grief and helplessness feel genuine, especially in contrast to Mikhail’s delusional “salvation.” While later stories (like Gene Nation in the mid-’90s) would retcon that many Morlocks survived, Uncanny X-Men #293 still feels like a definitive farewell to the classic Morlock era. It closed the book on years of subplots stretching back to Claremont’s heyday, giving the Morlocks a dark, tragic curtain call.
Unfortunately the story missed an opportunity with addressing Archangel, who lost his wings during the Mutant Massacre. It was the catalyst that put him into a spiritual tailspin, that lead to him being taken and abused by Apocalypse, transforming him into his Angel of Death. We get something, where Warren was looking for some kind of closure, but he was never given the chance. It was glazed over, and the opportunity was lost. The next time we’d see anything dealing with Warren and his wings happens years later after Onslaught, where the metal would molt, revealing the feathers underneath. Missing any chance to give Warren some depth was lost.
This story also set the tone for much of Lobdell’s 1990s work — emotional, sometimes melodramatic, but deeply human. It emphasized that the X-Men’s universe isn’t just about heroes and villains, but the forgotten and broken people caught in between.
