The night was thick with tension, the air alive with an electric anticipation as Riddler stood facing Aria. They were surrounded by the remnants of an old industrial complex—its rusted beams and broken machinery providing a stark, jagged backdrop to what was about to unfold. The moonlight filtered through shattered windows, casting elongated shadows that danced in rhythm with the wind.

“So, it comes to this,” Aria said, her voice steady yet filled with an edge of triumph. Her eyes bore into Riddler, filled with years of resentment and longing. The metal staff she wielded, a sinister reflection of her intent, gleamed under the dim light.

Riddler tightened his grip on his Wakizashi, feeling the familiar weight of the blade in his hands. But tonight, something felt different—Trinity’s presence, usually so clear, was blurred, her voice muffled by an unseen force. He took a deep breath, his eyes locking onto Aria’s, refusing to show weakness.

“You think this will bring you peace, Aria?” he asked, his voice calm despite the storm raging inside. “Hurting Trinity, taking her back by force—it won’t fix what’s broken.”

Aria’s eyes narrowed, a twisted smile playing on her lips. “Peace? I don’t need peace, Riddler. I need her back. I need to make her understand what she took from me—what she destroyed.” She twirled her staff, the movement swift and graceful, a demonstration of her mastery. “And you—you are just in my way.”

Without another word, Aria lunged forward, her staff a blur of motion as she struck. Riddler barely had time to parry, the clash of metal echoing through the empty complex. The force of her attack sent a jolt up his arm, but he held his ground, his eyes never leaving hers.

“You always were quick,” Aria mocked, her voice dripping with disdain as she pivoted, her movements fluid and precise. “But you lack the resolve. You’re just a vessel for her—a means to an end.”

Riddler gritted his teeth, using the momentum of her attack to spin away, creating distance between them. “You don’t know anything about us,” he retorted, his eyes blazing with determination. “Trinity chose me because she believes in what we’re doing. She believes in me.”

Aria let out a bitter laugh, her eyes flashing with a mix of fury and pain. “Believes in you? She’s using you, Riddler. Just like she used everyone else. She’s a master of manipulation, and you’re nothing but her latest pawn.”

Riddler surged forward, his blade slicing through the air with deadly precision. Aria met his attack head-on, their weapons colliding in a shower of sparks. The force of the impact drove them apart, each of them breathing heavily, their eyes locked in a battle of wills.

“I’ve seen the darkness in her,” Riddler said, his voice strained as he fought to regain his footing. “I know what she’s done, and I still choose to stand by her. Because I see the good in her, the part that’s worth saving.”

Aria’s expression twisted with rage, her voice rising in a shout. “There is no good left in her! She’s a monster—and I will be the one to end her suffering, even if it means destroying everything she holds dear.”

With a primal scream, Aria unleashed a flurry of attacks, her staff striking with blinding speed and precision. Riddler struggled to keep up, each blow driving him back, his defenses weakening under the relentless onslaught. His arms ached, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he fought to hold his ground.

“You can’t win, Riddler,” Aria hissed, her eyes burning with an almost feral intensity. “You’re outmatched—and deep down, you know it.”

Riddler’s vision blurred, exhaustion beginning to take its toll. He swung his blade in a desperate attempt to push her back, but Aria was relentless, her movements a deadly dance that left him no room to counter. With a final, powerful strike, she knocked the Wakizashi from his hands, the blade clattering to the ground out of reach.

Riddler fell to his knees, his body trembling from the exertion. Aria stood over him, her staff raised, her eyes filled with a cold determination. “This is where it ends, Riddler,” she said, her voice calm and final. “Trinity belongs to me. And you… you were never more than a stepping stone.”

Riddler looked up at her, his eyes filled with defiance even in defeat. “You’re wrong,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “She’s not yours to take.”

Aria ignored his words, her focus shifting as she extended her free hand towards the fallen Wakizashi. The blade began to glow, its ethereal light pulsing as Trinity’s presence was forcibly drawn from it. Riddler watched helplessly, his heart breaking as he felt the connection between him and Trinity begin to sever.

“No…” he gasped, reaching out towards the blade, but it was too late. The glow intensified, and then, with a blinding flash, Trinity was gone—her presence ripped from the sword and absorbed into Aria.

As the light faded, Riddler felt the transformation unravel. His battle form, once fueled by Trinity's energy, began to dissipate. His attire shifted back to its original state, the mystical aura around him vanishing, leaving him with only the single Wakizashi by his side. The dual energy was gone, and with it, the strength that had kept him in the fight.

Riddler collapsed, the weight of the loss crushing him. The silence that followed was deafening, the emptiness inside him a void that he could not comprehend. He tried to reach out, to feel Trinity’s comforting presence, but there was nothing—no voice, no warmth, only a hollow emptiness that gnawed at his soul.

Aria looked down at him, her expression a mix of triumph and sorrow. “You fought well, Riddler,” she said softly, her voice almost gentle. “But this was always how it was going to end.”

With that, she turned and walked away, Trinity’s power now hers, leaving Riddler alone in the darkness.

Time seemed to blur as Riddler lay there, the world around him fading into nothingness. When he finally stirred, the first light of dawn was breaking over the horizon, the soft glow of morning casting long shadows across the ruined complex. He sat up slowly, his body aching, his mind numb.

He reached for the Wakizashi, now devoid of the light that had once filled it. The blade felt cold, lifeless, a hollow shell of what it had once been. Riddler closed his eyes, his heart aching with the loss.

“Trinity,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “Where are you?”

But there was no answer. No comforting presence, no guiding voice. Only silence.

And for the first time in a long time, Riddler felt truly alone.