The cold moonlight pierced the clouds and shone into the first-floor lobby of Arkham Asylum, only to stop abruptly as it flowed down the stairs, unable to bring any light to the underground cells.
Schiller crouched down, his fingertips brushing over the protruding black crystals on the pit wall. Gray Mist curled around his fingers, like another sensory organ.
"The radiation level is four hundred times higher than that of an ordinary meteorite," Gray Mist whispered in his ear. "These crystals are continuously emitting unidentified rays. Exposure to this radiation environment would have unpredictable consequences for ordinary people."
A needle-like burning pain came from Schiller's fingertips. Gray Mist was faithfully relaying the sensations of an ordinary human being to him.
He withdrew his hand. Fine gray smoke suddenly rose from the bottom of the pit, twisting into a series of runes. They looked very much like the runes in the Magic Circle from Batman's photograph.
"This wasn't a meteorite that fell naturally." Schiller picked up a small crystal and crushed it into powder, watching it glow a deep red in the faint light. "Perhaps the Order Cult summoned this meteorite. This is part of their conspiracy."
Urgent sirens were still tearing through Gotham's night sky. The hunt for Death Angel Paul was ongoing, and it would only grow tighter as time passed. Before Paul was arrested, Schiller had to uncover the truth.
As Schiller walked out of Arkham Asylum, three police cars bearing the GTO insignia passed right by him. Deputy Director Harvey Bullock of the Police Department probably could no longer withstand the pressure from the State Legislature. GTO's involvement meant Death Angel did not have much time left.
Schiller opened the car door and got in. The dashboard showed 1:17 a.m.—there were forty-three minutes left before Gotham History