It was strange, really, to hear how much of an impression his counterpart had on the Jokester. He'd almost forgotten what it felt like to be part of a hero team. It felt as if an eternity had passed since the Syndicate had slaughtered his team. He had a daughter too, one that was killed.

The story affected him, and it was beginning to become obvious, as his expression, even as hard as he could be to read sometimes, was beginning to soften to almost a sympathetic look. It was strange to have someone understand what he'd suffered, what he went through that drove him to do what he did. In a way, he wondered if there was an understanding between him and Batman that drove the bat to save his life.

Enigma wasn't necessarily one to speak about himself, preferring to be simply that shadow no one really knew was there. He'd been hiding for so long, it was almost second nature at times. "It seems your Riddler and I aren't all that different, save that I lived through an attack by the syndicate. "He tapped the masked side of his face, "though without half my face. They left me alive to watch me suffer as they slaughtered my team and my family." His daughter had survived, but only barely, as he was able to grasp her soul and bind her to technology so she would continue to live.