Arkham Asylum's cell blocks were unusually quiet, illuminated only by flickering fluorescent lights that cast long shadows across the cold concrete corridors. Hours had passed since lights-out, yet the guards remained alert. Gotham's most dangerous criminals never truly slept, and none were more eager for conversation than the man occupying Cell E-17.
"Riddle me this," Edward Nygma called from the darkness before Batman even stepped into view. "I'm always around, but unseen. I am often avoided, but never outrun. I can find you at the end of the road or even the next corner. What am I?"
"Death," Batman answered without hesitation.
A grin spread across the Riddler's face.
"To what do I owe the pleasure, Dark Knight?"
"I need information," Batman replied. "You've got more than your fair share."
Edward chuckled.
"After years of rivalry, Gotham's greatest detective finally comes crawling to me for answers. I was beginning to think you'd never acknowledge my brilliance."
"Not brilliance, Edward. Persistence."
"Hm... you're as cheerful as ever."
Batman stepped closer to the bars.
"The Foundation. What do you know?"
For the first time since Batman had arrived, Edward's smile faded. He adjusted his glasses before speaking again.
"If you know me, you'll want to share me. If you share me, I'll be gone. What am I?"
"A secret."
Edward burst into laughter.
"Oh, they certainly have plenty of those. The Foundation... what a fascinating group. They make half the patients in Arkham look perfectly sane by comparison. Think of them as the world's foremost experts in the unusual. 'Anomalies,' they call them. Strange objects. Impossible creatures. Things that simply shouldn't exist. They're everywhere, Batman. Older than governments. Richer than corporations. More secretive than any intelligence agency you've ever encountered. And the things they keep locked away..." He leaned closer to the bars, lowering his voice. "Monsters that would frighten even you."
Batman studied him carefully.
"How do I know this isn't another one of your delusions?"
Edward's smile disappeared completely.
"Don't insult me, Dark Knight. We both know you wouldn't have come here if you intended to dismiss everything I said. You already know something exists. Able proved that much."
Batman remained silent.
"And mark my words," Edward continued. "If the Foundation has set its sights on you..."
Batman had already turned and begun walking away.
"...then riddle me this."
"My inventor doesn't want me. The man who bought me won't need me. The man who needs me doesn't know it. What am I?"
Batman stopped without looking back.
"A coffin."
He continued walking down the corridor.
Once outside Arkham, Batman climbed back into the Batmobile as Alfred's voice came through the communications system.
"It could still be a trick, sir. Edward Nygma is hardly a reliable source."
"He lies," Batman replied, steering onto Gotham's rain-soaked streets. "But only when the lie proves he's smarter than everyone else. His compulsion is to be right. If he knows something, he'll hide it inside the truth."
"What concerns you most?"
Batman was silent for several moments.
"I still don't understand why the Foundation sent Able after me."
"Perhaps, Master Bruce," Alfred said thoughtfully, "it has less to do with who you are and more with what you represent. If the Foundation truly specializes in unusual phenomena, Gotham would be one of the most valuable cities in the world to them. Costumed criminals, experimental technology, chemical weapons, mysterious artifacts... even the giant coin in the Batcave would likely qualify as an anomaly by their standards."
Batman slowly began to understand.
"And with me out of the way..."
"They would have free rein to operate within Gotham," Alfred finished. "It's becoming increasingly clear they have no intention of playing fair."
Batman tightened his grip on the steering wheel.
Neither would he.