To take care of the world seemed, finally, a privilege rather than a burden. The Riddler had led them to life's greatest victory. They had found a home.
Now the Fates are here on the beach, three shadows blacker than black, walking through the dunes and looking for their own. Just shadows, lamb-white hands beneath black robes spun of tears, glide among the celebrants on this night wherein the spirits of Thebes have found a home, if serendipitously.
"Dreamers and dreaming dead, lots of them from neither here nor there with no chance of getting home again, lost in place and time.