Code Name: Cyclops<br/>Real Name: Scott Summers<br/>Location: The Danger Room<br/>Date/Time: Monday, September 7th 2015, 10:01am<br/>Tagging: Psylocke, Archangel, Bishop<br/>Content: Anything Goes<br/>Wearing: Costume<br/><br/>Cyclops felt the familiar routines of combat calming him, easing his worries. He wondered what it said about him that he felt more relaxed fighting against potentially lethal foes then simply dealing with personal problems that, in broad terms, most people faced in their lives. Ok, maybe not the loved one coming back from the dead part, but in general.<br/><br/>He blasted another demon, then banked a shot off a Sentinel’s hand, into a horde of fliers. His ricochets were more accurate than many people’s straight shots. He blasted a series of shots into Sentinels and demons, keeping anyone from getting too close.<br/><br/>He was jerked out of the focus of the fight by Storm’s summons. His control was good enough that he managed to suppress the sigh he felt building. Reluctantly, he said, “Hold program.” Everything ground to halt except for Bishop and Archangel. “Sorry, gentlemen, I’m apparently needed elsewhere. Feel free to continue without me.” Cyclops walked out of the Danger Room and headed down the hall towards the War Room. As he neared the planning space, he passed Warpath leaving. The towering Apache gave him a dark look as he walked past. Cyclops didn’t blame him. He felt responsible for Thunderbird’s death, just like he did for all the X-Men who’d died on his watch. Cyclops put the guilt aside and walked in to the War Room.