Miles Upshur took to the fact that he wasn’t human anymore with grace. To be honest, there was little else he could do, if the Walrider hadn’t taken over his body when he ‘died’ he would actually truly be rotting on the fucking ground right now. That said, it was a truly disconcerting thing to watch yourself, controlled by a black cloud, mercilessly slaughter dozens of men with guns.
He had floated along behind his body, tethered to it by a silver cord. His body which had been pierced by multitudes of bullets and was still somehow, walking around, controlling the swarm of nanites that made up the Walrider, and being controlled in return. The essence of Miles- his soul, (a word Miles hesitated in using, the religious implications giving it’s use a feeling of wrongness)- was left as an observer to this process, he was thankful to be left out. (As well as a bit offended, watching his body be used to commit horrors like those the asylum was covered in, but having no part in said horrors and okay yeah, the likelihood of Miles being fucked in the head by now just soared to a hundred percent. What the fuck was that.)
By now they had made it outside, and the swarm was surging ahead of his body to his car and the inmate behind the wheel. Something in him wanted to just let it happen, to let the swarm of Walrider mutilate the innocent (or maybe not so innocent, he had been in Mount Massive as well) but a large part of him was horrified. He/they screamed and it was like waking from a walking nightmare. Miles’ soul was in his body again, blood-and-various-other-fluids covered, but in some form of control.
There was no telling how long he had been outside of his body. His precious jeep was gone, but so was anything else living, or at least, anyone living who posed a threat. Miles hardly cared about the poor inmates who would die in said asylum, they didn’t count, cursed to live and die in Mount Massive. It was likely most would die from smoke inhalation or, if the asylum itself joined the chapel, this entire fucking place would burn to the ground, the inmates burned to ashes. (Nope, still didn't care. Definitely a bit fucked up.) He would be glad of the destruction of everything, though he felt sorrow at the thought of his camera, a bullet had gone through it this time and he hadn't been able to get the SD card.
All that hard work, wasted, unless... did Miles really want to go back in there? He felt distantly possessive of the footage, further evidence of his suffering, and exactly what he needed to destroy Murkoff Corporation. Yes, he wanted the footage back, and honestly? What was one more trip into hell, especially when you have a demon by your side.