The orange hue of sunset was barely visible on the horizon. Still, a stubborn glimmer managed to slice between gargoyles and stone-grey buildings.

Batman is early today. Commissioner Gordon gulped down all his coffee, watching as the ominous bat-shaped shadow landed next to him. Silence as usual, apart from the sound of a swishing black cape. Gordon held a black-and-white pop-up birthday card in his right hand, fully anticipating Batman to take it for himself.

"The Riddler's up to no good," Commissioner Gordon greeted.

No surprise there. Batman walked closer and snatched the card out of Gordon's hands, already turning the words in his head. Maize. Amaze. Maze? Party. Gun. Fun. Where...? Batman peered at the wine-dark city.

Ever since the Riddler came back from his quote-unquote vacation last year (all expenses secretly paid by Brucie Wayne, of course), the villain had been more insufferable than usual. Batman had thought the villain could be persuaded to reform again, but apparently the Riddler just couldn't resist committing riddle-crimes. Oh well.

"Sources say he was last seen near the Joker's last hideout, but ACE Chemicals is abandoned." Unless, of course, Gotham's cops are completely corrupt and they were paid to say that.

Anything related to the Joker was bad news. Even if the Clown Prince of Crime was currently in Arkham, whether he would break free was really a question of when, not if. Batman hummed noncommittally. "No sign of Query and Echo?" If the Riddler is making his move, his henchwomen will be there too.

Gordon's gaze was locked on his coffee cup. He sighed. "I found them... Actually, they found me. They tried to kidnap me—"

Okay. Query and Echo are capable fighters and they carry Glocks, but all I'll have to do is... Wait, what?

"—in broad daylight—"

Kidnapping the commissioner from his office? Not a chance. They're not even trying to be discreet. Riddler and his goons are getting sloppy. Overconfident and predictable, but the Riddler's never unprepared. I need to—

"—which naturally means that they successfully—"

Successfully?! Batman immediately turned around to face Gordon, then belatedly remembered that he was supposed to be brooding, so he semi-awkwardly turned away again. His cape fluttered gracefully in the evening breeze.

"—ruined my fourth cup of coffee and—"

Oh, that's okay. For a second, I almost thought that they—

"—kidnapped me."

Batman heroically resisted the urge to sigh. "Jim, get to the point."

"It turns out that they just wanted a friendly chat—" and by extension, my wallet, "—and they mentioned, not subtle at all, that the Riddler double-crossed them. They're apparently offering their help to lock him up, in exchange for revenge." Gordon lifted his cup to his lips, then brought it down as he regretfully remembered there was no coffee left.

Hmm. All this pomp and circumstance for a vague promise of help. A trap. Batman fixated his gaze on the edge of the city, where a green neon sign was flickering. And it's a predictable one.

"Anyway, they were heading in the opposite direction, so I don't think we have to worry about them for now..." Gordon blinked, then chuckled to himself. "Heh, he disappeared again."

FUNMAZE

The letter F on the neon sign flickered and died unceremoniously.

UNMAZE

While Batman prowled in the shadows, a bright green silhouette shifted in the cool night breeze. Extremely, painfully bright. Clearly, the Riddler was not aiming for subtlety. In fact, Batman's eyes were hurting from staring too hard at the excessive colour. If the Riddler ever gave up on riddles, his fashion sense alone could bedazzle and confound the entirety of Gotham.

Focus, Batman, he reminded himself. Silent takedown.

Batman swooped down. But if he was hoping this night would end just like that, he'd be disappointed: the villain was already prepared. Again that cocky million-watt smile.

Batman's jaw clenched, his fists aching to slap away that smug expression.

Batman never got headaches (because he's Batman), but if he did, his brain might be imploding now.

"Up for my challenge, or is everyone going to be late?" The Riddler taunted as he ran straight into the Unmaze. "C'mon! Not 'see you later'!"

What does Batman do?
B: Not fall into an obvious trap.
C: Check his surroundings for potential threats.
D: Run after him.
E: Punch the Riddler in the face.

The answer is always A.

A: Be Batman.

Batman used a back door to approach the Riddler from behind. (Where did the back door come from, you ask? Naturally, it appeared out of thin air. Because he's Batman.)

The Riddler looked back in shock. "What? Where did you come from?" He was in the middle of adding the final touches to his masterpiece: a wall literally made of puzzle pieces. Everything was jigsaw-shaped. (You gotta admire the man's dedication to his gimmick, because who else would have the patience for this kind of interior design? this level of detail? this immunity to bright green colours?)

Batman found a frankly ridiculous assortment of riddles lying around. It was – dare he say it – such an absurd riddle-room that it became amusing.

Then he heard it: a soft ticking sound.
(A grandfather clock? A taped recording? Nah, I'll save you the suspense – it's a bomb. Of course it's a bomb.)

The Riddler was still wearing that shock-disbelief-nervous expression, but managed to hastily construct a monologue: "Doesn't matter, I've still got plans." (Yes, very impressive speech.) Then, he ran off.

I'll catch him later. Batman instantly set to work, using something from his utility belt to dismantle the jigsaw-shaped bomb. (It was painted green.)

And there was that funny feeling again, the one he felt every time he went against the Riddler. The same script, repeated over and over again, all ending with Riddler going back to Arkham. (Not Blackgate; not after that awkward moment a few years ago, when the Riddler was caught sneaking out before Batman had even left. The villain had waved at him cheerily. Batman had waved back.)

That funny feeling... Batman treasured fleeting moments when Riddler always looked pleasantly surprised or hid his pure unadulterated joy in a smirk – as if he never actually expected Batman would waste time playing his games, as if flattered that Batman came to match wits with him personally. And Batman had tried to ignore that look at first, but then came a funny feeling, a tinge of something whenever he saw the Riddler acting so smug, so proud of himself. (Alfred might have called it fondness, if Batman had ever confided truthfully.)

What are you planning this time, Edward? Batman frowned at the pieces of the bomb, and stared out of the maze-like building.

Meanwhile, taking advantage of the Batman's temporary distraction, the Riddler contacted a friend or two (or three) and began Act Two of his grand plan. His brilliant plan was a stroke of genius, if he did say so himself.

Batman found Riddler outside the Unmaze, on the edge of a cliff.
(Why was there a cliff, you ask? Trust me, it's far too complicated for the author to explain, but all you need to know is that there's an endless midnight sea down there.)

"Where did you come from?" demanded the Riddler again. You aren't supposed to be here yet! You ignored all of my traps!

Batman really really tried not to roll his eyes. I took the shortcut.

The Riddler mused aloud, "But I think..." He hefted his question mark cane in his hand. "Yes, let's try..."

Batman stepped forward, boots crunching the dried grass menacingly. The Riddler was not known for his physical strength – he usually let his goons take care of that – but his gold cane was still a weapon.

They sized up each other for a heavy second. There was that funny feeling again, the one where they seemed to be having a totally different conversation in their heads. Out loud they might be saying you imbecile! or it's over now, give up, Nigma, but there was always that weird, surreal, completely imaginary moment before the climax of the night, when someone might as well be saying I only blew up two blocks tonight, are you proud? or you seem to be losing weight. It was a funny feeling for them both.

Then that feeling disappeared – it always did – and now they were seriously going to literally kill each other (metaphorically).

Riddler raised his cane and attacked first, launching himself at Batman. He stabbed an imaginary hole straight into the Batsuit, which was fortunately now insulated from minor electric shocks. Batman dodged a heavy blow and felt the tip of the Riddler's cane slide towards a less protected joint.

Batman grimaced. He hated how he had to trade protection for agility; he needed a better suit, apparently.

The cane swung up towards his jaw, but Batman caught it in one hand.

The thing Batman hated most about the Riddler: he wasn't necessarily the biggest threat or the cleverest person in the world, but he was definitely one of the most annoying and persistent.

In a low voice, Batman growled, "No more games."

A sickening crack! was heard. The Riddler backed away, stumbling a little, eyes wide as he gasped for breath. Almost immediately, the shock and terror morphed into blazing, poisonous hatred.

The Riddler held his cane like a spear, and charged. "DIE, FATHER! I mean, BATMAN!" However, he was still hopelessly outmatched, and both knew it.

Batman stepped forward, undeterred. Your game ends now.

(You won't guess what happens next.)

"AAAAAHHH!" The Riddler tripped over thin air, fell into the sea, and drowned.

(Yes, seriously. The Riddler was dead. The rest of this fic is told in flashbacks at his funeral. You can stop reading now.)

Although there was no sign of a body, the Prince of Puzzles was indeed irreversibly dead. He was as dead as a door-nail, and as dead as a coffin-nail. There was no doubt whatsoever about that.

(And no, there weren't any Lazarus Pits nearby.)

What does Batman do?
A: All of the above.
B: Dive into the sea and perform mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.
C: Curse Jim Gordon for wasting his time.
D: Stay silent and continue his decades-long moping session.

The answer is always A.

Batman is Batman, so he did not fall into an obvious trap. He knew this was too easy; the death was clearly faked. He could sense the Riddler creeping up behind him...

The flamboyant supervillain was creeping, so clearly that must've been a distraction. Batman checked his surroundings for potential threats, and, just in time, he found Killer Croc doing a stealthy sneak attack. But Batman is Batman, so he fought off Killer Croc easily.

After apprehending Waylon Jones, Batman ran after the fleeing Riddler, and promptly handcuffed him. The Riddler barely protested as he felt the cool bite of metal wrap tightly around his wrists, instead saying indignantly, "It's impossible! It was my game. There was no way to beat it. How could you?"

Batman really really really tried to stay silent. "Only someone as sick as you could think this is ever a game, Edward." Then he punched the Riddler in the face, knocking the supervillain out cold.

Batman didn't mean to punch so hard. But in his defense, the Riddler had an extremely punchable face.

But Batman had made a mistake: while he was dealing with the Riddler in the Unmaze, Query and Echo had successfully managed to rob the Gotham National Bank. (The Riddler had even left a riddle for that; huh, too bad Batman didn't care to read through everything in the riddle-room...)