Eleven handed off a kettle to Regulus, certain the man could manage to fill it with water. The range Eleven lit himself with a careful touch of fire.

"The undead in my world.." He'd thought he knew where he was going with that, but Eleven paused with some consternation to search for a better way to explain the difference. "Well, they aren't cursed by an incurable cold, and don't seek out the living for warmth. I suppose there are more similarities than differences, otherwise."

He shrugged. "As for how they're controlled, I only have the ability to guess."