"More impure than that of an arms dealer...!" he snarled, half to himself. He hadn't done more wrong than Howard Stark at that point in his life, surely. The man had been indirectly responsible for the deaths of hundreds, if not thousands. Gene's chief trespass at that point - and chief misfortune - was to be born.

The subject was still a sore one; more sore than he'd expected. He squashed the emotion, packing it back up. Then he smiled thinly, unwilling to believe her explanation.

"Well, it failed, didn't it? I'm still here. Though I have my suspicions it will try again, if that's the case."