It came as a shock. A kid that had similar feature to him, Remy could handle. But the pupil-less red irises, the black of your scleras was something Remy had only ever seen in himself. "Sorry, Gambit mishearin' you. They're my what?" Hours upon weeks upon months of training in the Danger Room could've never prepared the cajun for this level of culture shock.

Logan stood with a sigh escaping past his cigar. "Your clone, your kid. Whatever you wanna call them, I don't fucking care. They're out my hands now." His claws extended with a snikt, directed at the child as they had tried to kick him. "Don't. Fucking behave, I'm not hauling your ass across the country anymore." Logan's voice was firm as he released the kid arm.

"Have fun!" The Wolverine called on his way out, leaving Remy with more questions than answers.