Blood thundered through Aaron's head and blocked out anything other than his goal; getting away from Riddler, and maybe leaving him with something to think about. He felt vindictive and angry, so angry, it hurt, and Aaron had never enjoyed tunnel vision. He wheeled around a sharp turn, knocking down a stack of cardboard boxes left by a few native Freesians, presumably moving to a new place. They scattered across the concrete and Aaron kept running. "You made us all worried!" Was he rephrasing? "We didn't know where you were or what you were doing!"

Was Riddler still in earshot? He didn't care.

"We thought you were dead!" (He remembered feeling so worried it felt like it was eating a hole through his stomach; like he was going to throw up.)"But now-- now I think you wanted to die!" His voice was leaning to the side of strained and quieter, now. "And maybe you should have done it yourself instead of looking for it."