"In a sense, yes." Birkin waved a hand dismissively. "I created the raw materials to make these; evolution took care of the rest." He scoffed to himself; Jack Frost would have to freeze hell over before he ever admitted that TriCell jumped in and helped that evolution along.

Birkin focused his attention on Stein as he rotated the bolt. "Do you do that often?" He had to admit, watching that was one of those things that made the hairs on your neck stand on end. The sound it made, certainly didn't help. "I think there's a lighter in one of those drawers over there." He pointed toward a desk in the corner. "If you need one."

The scientist walked over to a cabinet and pulled out a shotgun. "Best to be prepared for anything," he mumbled as he placed it close at hand just in case. "Because anything can certainly happen..."