She knows how to exist when all lights are gone; she knows how to use disguise in the service of a cause. She knows that a soldier in need of her friendship never feels alone, that adversity never weakens a woman's resolve. She knows that the journey is never complete, that the goal is never sacred, that the martyr is no fool, and that the lie is birthed from the soil and the cup becomes the sun. Rather than perish in the crucible, she longs to be born anew. Rather than mourn her death, she yearns to live through it. Who can fail to see that she's holding a mirror to the world?