There's a low tired groan from the pile of bricks and debris that settle on and around Logan's body. The rubble rattles quietly as he sits himself upright, powdered with dust that used to be the side of a building.

"Uh huh," it's not a terribly convincing answer but he seems determined to believe it. "It's not powerful as real-Cyke." He sounds a bit like he's goading the thing with that talk when he probably shouldn't be.

"You should get outta here, bub. This guy's been fuckin' relentless..." As if to prove Logan right in that point ghost-clops brings his hand to his visor and lets loose another other. Not a single shot this time. Not so much a blast a long, sustained beam testing the limits of that little forcefield.