The ground beneath his feet was collapsing.
His surroundings were no longer the makeshift hospital room. Light flared and faded unnaturally, the walls crumbled backward, and the ceiling vanished into nothingness.
He found himself standing in a Gothic library labyrinth pieced together from countless question-mark domes. Riddle-like patterns covered blue-gray marble columns, while stained-glass windows refracted reality into robin totems with green scales and golden eyes. The scent of sulfur and old parchment hung in the air, and every brass kerosene lamp cast overlapping, cobweb-like shadows across the ledges.
Tens of thousands of spiral staircases folded back and forth through the void. The shelves were packed with books woven from ciphers and gold thread. He reached for one, but the instant his fingertips touched its pages, the entire wall of books flipped over and collapsed into countless white butterflies.
Only when he looked closely did he realize that each butterfly was a torn fragment of a crossword puzzle sheet.
"Where am I?"
He murmured the question, and a proud, ringing voice answered from behind him.
"A prison, a temple, the crown of an ignorant king, the salt crystallized from the bloodline of Oedipus."
"Who's there?"
He spun around. Just a few steps away stood another Edward Nygma.
The same face, the same slightly thin build, but an entirely different presence. The other man wore a well-tailored dark green suit with a matching tie and a green hat tilted on his head, decorated with a question-mark emblem. He toyed with a cane topped by a green gemstone. A dark smile stretched across his lips, and undisguised madness and mockery glittered in his eyes.
"My cage has no iron bars,
Yet its key lies hidden in questions.
When you think you've caught my tail,
You're already living within my walls.
Always asking,