You're a major player in the Justice League. Strong, fast, and tough enough to go toe-to-toe with the biggest threats in the universe. When world-ending crises loom, you're one of the people they call.

Tonight, you're patrolling the eastern seaboard when a high-priority alert lights up your comms: criminal activity linked to a dangerous individual. Location? Gotham. Of course it is.

No one else is available, so it falls to you.

You're on the scene within minutes. The place is a half-collapsed warehouse—graffiti-scarred walls, busted-out windows, and the stink of old mold. Your eyes lock onto a figure in red-and-black latex: a grinning woman twirling a mallet the size of a coffee table. Beside her, a gagged woman in eveningwear struggles in a chair, clearly the hostage.

"Harley," you mutter.

She freezes for half a second, then rolls her eyes dramatically before turning to face you.

"Just great! A pooper-hero!" she cackles, clearly proud of the dumb pun.

Then her smile sharpens into a sneer. "Back off, Girl Scout. I’m gettin’ my payday tonight."

You scoff. She’s got no powers. No real weapons. Compared to what you’ve faced? She shouldn’t even be a threat.

Her eyes light up.

"Awwwright, bozo! Now you're gettin’ it!"

With a wild grin, she lifts her mallet and starts striding straight toward you—confident, unhinged, and very, very ready to make you regret underestimating her.