Balt could feel a twinge of jealousy within him—faint, but certainly there. While time had never been his own wheelhouse, as an unspeakable, he had long valued a good puckersnatch. In the time since his departure from the Minsitry of Magic, though, it seemed as though he had only had bad ones. How he yearned for a good riddle to solve, a good story to tell—now that he was back among those to which he could divulge such stories, at least.

"My, you have been busy!" the wizard exclaimed. The concept was, frankly, impressive—and one with broad application and minimal apparent likelihood to kill anyone if it got out into the general public. This, he thought wryly, was something of a rarity in their line of work.

"Counter-Down?" Balt suggested lamely before chuckling at himself. "I've always been more for the research than the creative end of things. Whatever you call it, you might become a rich man indeed if you can get Experimental Charms to sign off on it."

Not that Mulciber needed the money. His was similar indeed to the life Balt would have had, had he done as his father wished rather than as his heart dictated.