Uh oh. Melanie glances at Aziraphale, brow furrowed, then back to Illyria. If the god-king took over some woman's body just like the cordyceps would…

… Well, what then? Who is Melanie to judge, after what she did? How many pockets of humanity were still holding out when she set the cordyceps alight? When she was finished, only one woman was left. One woman lost doesn't seem that bad in comparison.

She shifts in her seat, uneasy. "I don't understand," she finally says. "Were you bound on purpose?"