The soldier padded through a small, steamy, bathroom located inside Katana’s dingy motel. After drying off, sliding on a pair of joggers, and brushing his teeth it was only reasonable to retrieve the fading cigarette set along the edge of this sink. With an exhale, Flag swept a palm across the glass mirror and nearly choked on smoke by what seemed to be looking right back at him. His mind had played tricks like this before. Visions of lost friends, his young self, even his own father could be found in a passing reflection, but this time the eyes lingered. Those belonging to Enchantress. A pair of bonfires, an eclipse, Rick’s glimpse into the end of all things. She was here.