"He's been looking at those things for nearly half an hour."
In an upside-down world, Arthur sat atop a dead Maneater and sighed.
Ever since Jason had brought everyone deep into the Hall of Everything, to a place resembling a crossroads, Batwoman had seemed to have an episode. He had silently begun doing things no one else could understand.
The crossroads had four doors facing four directions, made respectively of water, fire, earth, and wind. Doors made from those elements had taken solid form, which was strange enough on its own.
What Batwoman was doing was opening one of the doors, sticking his head inside for a look, closing it, then walking over to the second door.
There were only four doors in all, yet he kept cycling through them over and over. No one knew how many rounds he had made.
At first, Arthur had tried helping count, but within minutes he had lost track and become dizzy. The space here was rotating as well—not just up, down, left, and right, but at shifting angles too. They were like people standing inside a concrete mixer.
The space was pieced together from blocks of color. Colored light shone in from unknown places at irregular intervals, while the temperature and humidity constantly changed. The environment around them was terrible.
This was harder than counting how many fish swam past him while diving. The planter Arthur sat on was located at the center of the crossroads, looking like a traffic police booth or a tiny roundabout.
"I've never seen Batwoman this serious."
Diana, draped in a red cloak, stood nearby. She had not lowered her guard and still held her sword and shield, keeping watch for the group.
"I mean, he was always serious before, but while opening and closing these doors,