When Batman woke again, a dim halo swam before his eyes. He rubbed them with one hand, then looked at his palm. It still bore abrasions and was covered in grit.
He remembered seeing Schiller swallowed whole by a gigantic sandworm. He had leaped onto the sandworm's back, seized the horn on top of its head, and punched it in the eye. The sandworm had howled in pain and burrowed straight back underground.
The tunnel the sandworm traveled through beneath the ground had been carved out long ago. As its enormous body moved through it, there were gaps along the edges, so Batman had not been thrown off.
But racing through such narrow gaps had left Batman with abrasions all over his body. Then, when the sandworm burst from the ground again, hard clods of earth struck him on the head and knocked him unconscious.
Remembering this, Batman forced his eyes open. Two lit torches hung on the wall before him. Moss filled the cracks between the broken bricks, and water stains marked the cold floor.
The moment he sat up, a familiar voice came from behind him. "You're awake. How do you feel?"
Batman turned and saw Schiller standing behind him. He narrowed his eyes. "You're all right?"
"Of course I am. When that sandworm bit me, I noticed its muscles weren't tensed. It wasn't biting hard, and there were still gaps between its teeth. It seemed it had no intention of eating me, so I didn't dodge." Schiller shook his head and looked at Batman.
"I told you long ago that you'd better regain your senses soon and stop dwelling on those memories of trauma. I'm not some weak, innocent victim who needs you to save me..."
"So where are we now?" Batman asked in a hoarse voice.