There was no reason to hide at this point, not when those colours were flickering behind his eyelids so hypnotically. It means the infection had already set in and the link between him and the fallen thing calling itself a god was established beyond the breaking point. Now, not even death would free him.
Still he clung to his basic human instincts, even though technically he wasn't even alive yet alone human but some tiny fraction of his mind swam against the tidal flow of the fallen god's thoughts and told him to hide when the angels began to descend for their daily collection like the great Valkyries of old.
He wondered if he would become an angel too - one of the ones with more wings than arms, preferably. The ones with too many arms weren't so good at flying and he didn't think an eternity of half-crashing-half-flying like a drunk insect suited him as well as the graceful swooping arcs of the multi-winged ones.
So even though the fallen god thing called out to him in the voices of everyone he'd ever loved, even though literal angels had come to take him and several others to ascend with them, even though he was already as alive as the corpse of his last surviving friend, he still managed to pull their body over himself like a child's favourite blanket.
He still managed, against all odds, to have a choice.
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