By this point in his return to Arkham, the Riddler would normally be ranting
indignantly, shouting about the genius of his latest thwarted plot. Tonight,
for once, The Riddler was left mostly speechless. As he saw the chaos,
punctuated by painted smiles, characteristic of Joker's rampages, all he
could do was wonder what the mad clown had done. But even in shock, Edward
would not stand for being pulled by his arms through the whole of the asylum grounds.
"Stop this, you mindless drones, let me walk!", he protested, beginning to
struggle. Both men tugged him along.

Inspecting them, Edward noted that neither of them looked angry or even
irritated, as the men assigned to his transportation so often did. Like the
driver of the police car- the ape that beat him with a stick- these men
looked tired, frightened. They had seen a lot that night. The Riddler knew well
in advance about the Joker's
plans to escape, and he was not so naive as to think he would be doing so
without fatalities. Still, not even he could predict anything when it came to
the clown prince of crime. Clearly, the Joker had spent the better part of the
night running amock in Arkham Asylum. However, there were no signs of anyone
having escaped. The Joker was insane, but not stupid; there had to be a reason
for him to remain in Arkham. The monstrous plants lying dead in the fields
meant that Poison Ivy was somehow involved. The sheer scale of the damage
was unlike anything Poison Ivy was capable of before.

Riddler knew that most of the damage could in fact be his own doing. He had
fully intended to see Batman run himself ragged that night, trying in vain to
solve the riddles so carefully set up everywhere. Edward had personally
explored the surprisingly vast secrets of the asylum in his recreational
periods, depositing his self-made trophies. He had to bribe some of the
asylum's cleaners into spraying his invisible paint, leaving massive question
marks right under the noses of the foolish staff. In all, the effort went on
for months. Once the game was set, the Riddler would escape behind the madness
of the fleeing Joker, and head for the building where his men had finished
installing everything he needed to monitor his riddles and trophies. With the
obligatory bomb he would use to coerce him, the Riddler planned to gleefully
see Batman's mind break trying to solve the riddles. Soon after the night had
begun, however, his video surveillance was made short work of. At first blaming
it on his moron subordinates, he now deduced that it was the Joker's fault.
Because of the madman's circus, Batman was able to cheat his way through the
entire challenge. All that the Riddler had worked for was for naught. A night
ruined because Batman had immediately resorted to every possible shortcut and
every cheap trick. Any trained monkey could be "the World's Greatest Detective"
with such an arsenal of gadgets.

On that note, the Riddler found himself being halted. He presumed he was in
front of a physician; he was always given a brief, bastardized physical when
re-entering the prison. Instead, he looked up to find the warden, Quincy Sharp.
It was evident that not even he escaped the night unscathed. His pale, round,
balding face was
bruised all over, his suit was in tatters, and a bandage was hastily wrapped
around his leg. "Edward Nashton: the
last man I needed to see. You may take him directly to his usual cell. Thank
the lord that building was left operational."

Immediately, the Riddler felt the need to respond. He struggled against the guards for
a few seconds, saying loudly and confidently, "Warden, perhaps you find
yourself in shock, so I will excuse your inability to remember. Let me assure
you that my name change was done entirely legally, and I will thank you to
honor it. My last name is Nygma. That's 'NYGMA' with a 'Y', not an 'I'. I'm
sure you can sound the rest of it out." He was ignored. Sharp simply groaned,
and wiped his sweating brow with a handkerchief as Edward Nygma was brusquely
hauled away.

Now approaching the familiar holding cells in Intensive Treatment, Edward
noticed the Blackgate inmates
were all left nearly catatonic, no doubt by Batman. It would be a long year,
sharing Arkham Asylum with not only the usual band of lunatics, but these
buffoons, dumped there after the Joker burnt down the Asylum weeks earlier.
When he arrived at his cell, he was at least consoled to find that his cell was
kept empty for him. He prefered to keep to himself while incarcerated, and in
any case, hardly anyone could stand to be in his company for very long. The
cell was spacious enough, by prison standards. Still, it was deplorable, even
before any destruction. The bed was stiff, of course; rather than bedposts, it
was held up by bolts in the wall. The tiles were cracked, and falling off. The
walls were stained, and marked with green question marks by the Riddler. There
were even some green footprints, from one particularly unbearable night. The
guards let him go gently, and he slowly paced forward into the cell. "Dr.
Cassidy will see you." With these sole words, the men left.

Sure enough, Edward had only a few minutes to himself before he heard
the rubber shoes of Arkham's medical uniform, accompanied by the
stomping of another guard. A young, redheaded woman soon stood outside
the bars of his cell. She held an orange bundle; Edward's new uniform.
The guard opened the cell, and she walked in. Her hair was in a messy
bun, and despite her efforts to conceal it, it was obvious she had
cried a great deal. Riddler had not seen much of the psychiatric staff
in his days at Arkham. He had certainly never seen this Dr. Cassidy. He
looked up from his bed, inevitably into her eyes. He couldn't prevent
himself from seeming taken aback, but he collected himself quickly,
dismissing the woman with an apathetic sniff. She handed him the
jumpsuit, and began speaking in an uneasy voice. "Hello. I am Doctor
Sarah Cassidy. I'm part of the psychiatric staff, I will be conducting
your therapy from now on, Edward." The Riddler's eyes widened for a
second, realizing instantly that this meant Dr. Young had been killed.

He exhaled. "My condolences. Why tell me this now? Who else is still
here?", he asked, not for her sake, but for his. He wanted his return
to go quietly this time. Still, he listened attentively.

"Mr. Cash and I are the last ones left from the night shift. I was just
about to leave. I wanted to meet with you first." She shuddered. "I can
see you two weeks from now." Riddler scoffed at the notion of staying
more than three days.

"Yes, of course," he said, his voice unabashedly sardonic. She
attempted to smile at him, before turning towards the door. At the last
moment, he called out to her, "You know: if there had been a more
intelligent effort, the Joker would never have gotten out in the first
place. It's only logic that he should choose to stike here. But I am...
sorry, for the loss, Doctor Cassidy." The last thought came out feebly,
and to no avail. Cassidy took to trying to control her shaking. She
controlled her sobbing tremendously well, but still heaved silently.
She paced quickly away. Behind his riot mask, the guard grimaced at
Riddler. He locked the door, and turned to escort Dr. Cassidy out. As
he left, he bitterly spat at Riddler he words he hated the most to hear:

"Welcome home, Riddler."