To have one's mind overridden by some collection of squirming, lesser things is a horror Illyria almost does not dare fathom - and she must privately assert to herself that she laid claim to this body, she is the one who owns it by resurrective right. Illyria is no parasite and gods are incomparable to such things.

That she feels the need to remind herself of this at all is obscene.

"You are neither human," says Illyria, tranquil despite her concerning, nonsensical parallel, "nor fully taken by the things you carry." Illyria swallowed Winifred Burkle whole, until only the shell and its scattered memories remained. "How are you not overcome? How can there be balance? My shell was emptied in allowance for a god. Yet you are whole within yours."