Bubbles of saturated colour ebbed and flowed in tanks, although Scott hadn't a clue what any of those colours were as he gazed at them through the optic visor. The Alaskan heard a gruff voice beside him, though he didn't need to look to recognise Logan. He could smell that man for miles, although the Wolverine's presence sometimes came as a begrudged comfort.

"What do you smell?" Scott questioned the shorter man, whom only responded by kicking up a grate in the floor. How the hell Logan managed to smell the secret door to a secret basement, Scotty wouldn't ever find out.

As the two decended the steps, a harsh cold biting at their cheeks, Scott's eyes widened under the visor. "Some sort of cloning chamber..." His breath felt like it had been sucked out his lungs. Scott's attention was rewired toward Logan's gaze, following the unreadable expression plastered on the man's face, to a padded cell in the corner. There was a young one in cowered behind some children's plastic blocks. "Well this trip just keeps getting weirder and weirder." Scott remarked with a smirk, patting Logan's back before he approached the cell.