(ON HOLD) DC Injustice: Out With The Old, In With The New

Arkham Asylum, Gotham City, New York State. Tuesday, January 15, 2013 (Year one)

Edward Nygma sighed as he walked towards the asylum cafeteria, the chains clanking as he walked on his feet. He stood in the line for the trays and the available food, relieved that he got out of solitary in the nick of time. If there was one thing the Riddler actually enjoyed while imprisoned in this facility, it was hanging out with his partners-in-crime while eating food because they can plan out their next prison escape or their next attempt at killing Batman, or whatever the hell they want. What will it be this time?

As far as he could understand, the guards were divided about the most recent events. Joker tricking Superman into killing his own wife, who was later confirmed by himself to be Lois Lane, and their unborn child, whilst detonating a nuclear bomb in Metropolis? The man of steel deserved every moment he had to get his revenge. If anything, the clown prince of crime definitely had it coming. He tortured and killed a lot of innocent people before detonating the nuke a few days ago. The guards who used to take care of the Joker were relieved they wouldn't deal with his laughter or evil schemes ever again. But many of the GCPD, who worked with the caped crusader for a while, objected to his death, saying that Batman was right to put him away.

That was until the Regime was formed by the now-distraught Superman, who sought to kill every criminal, no matter what crime they committed. By that point, both the prisoners and the guards believed that Superman, once a beacon of hope, had gone too far. Given his superpower advantage, they dreaded it will not be long before Superman and his regime gang set their eyes on this asylum.

As he was thinking this, someone catches his attention. He turned to his right to see that, at one of the bigger tables, was Oswald Cobblepot, also known as the Penguin, waving at him. The prisoner behind him said, "Scooch up, Edward. Stop thinking about your damn riddles." Edward said nothing and walked up to the serving table to get his food tray.

After a while, Edward came to his friends' table and sat with Penguin and Two-Face, carrying his tray of tomato soup. The two stared at him and couldn't believe what they saw. Edward has a bloody cloth that covered most of his face, with the stain of blood running from the top right to the bottom left side of his face, across his nose. The attack, which occurred two nights ago, was known to be caused by another great and terrible foe of the bat crusader, though they never suspected just how bad it was (the guards kept the information classified from the inmates). The man observed their looks as he slurped on his soup and sighed after swallowing.

"It's my face, isn't it?"

"Bloody hell, Edward! The guards never told us what happened to you! I mean, given the looks of it, you could've died!" Penguin exclaimed. Normally he was a cold, calculative mob boss, but when it came to his partnership with the other crime lords of Gotham, he looked after them almost like friends.

Two-Face clenched his fists tightly. He stood up and exclaimed, "Who was the son of a gun that did this to you?"

"Riddle me this: remembered are the days when I was used, bloodied and beaten...I was abused. Death surrounded me, and it mattered not, as no matter the pain I inflicted, I'd never rot. What am I?"

Penguin scoffed, "you with your damn riddles," before eating a large spoonful of tomato soup.

Two-Face grunted inwards but knew deep down that Riddler was hinting at someone, perhaps not to draw attention. So he thought about the riddle carefully. Clearly, the tone of the riddle sounds more on the side about violence. He thought about the last sentence:

"Death surrounded me, and it mattered not, as no matter the pain I inflicted, I'd never rot."

"Sounds like a weapon to me. If this weapon was beaten, abused, and bloodied, then it was forged and used to slaughter enemies. I assume it's like a sword?" Asked Two-Face.

"That is correct, and based on what you heard, who do we know is good at using swords?"

"Mate, just tell us who did this to ya and we'll take care of him," the Penguin interrupted, slowly forming a grin on his face.

"I know what you're thinking, but it's harder than it looks. Look at the left corner table, that's where the culprit is," returned Edward, growling under his chin as he mentioned the location. There at the table sat an old but dangerous man. Stroking his chin while staring back at his former victim was the grandmaster of the League of Assassins, the "head of the demon," Ra's Al Ghul.

Penguin and Two-Face were on the verge of getting their pants wet. Given his entire army of assassins at his disposal and his warrior skills, they decided it best to leave him be.