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  • Harley Becomes Mira Reyes

    Chapter by AetherCord · 10 Jul 2026
  • Harley Quinn inhabits policewoman Mira Reyes's body, adapting to her new identity and returning to her apartment.
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  • # Chapter Two: The First Mask

    The fluorescent lights of the chemical facility flickered overhead as Harley—no, as Mira Reyes—made her way toward the exit. She could feel the policewoman's body responding to her every command, muscles twitching with unfamiliar tension as she adjusted to the weight of the uniform, the badge, the gun holstered at her hip.

    She was halfway to the door when a voice crackled from the radio clipped to her shoulder.

    "Reyes? You there?"

    Harley froze. Her heart—Mira's heart—pounded against her ribs. She reached up, fingers trembling, and pressed the button on the radio.

    "I'm here ! yes" she said, forcing her voice into something calm, professional. She'd seen enough cops in Arkham. She knew how they talked. Brisk. Efficient. Bored. "Just finishing my sweep."

    "Took you long enough. Dispatch said you went quiet about twenty minutes ago. Thought maybe the clown left a trap or something."

    Twenty minutes. Had it been that long? Time moved differently when you were busy invading a human body and crawling into it through their lungs.

    "Nothing," Harley said, the word smooth as glass. "Place is clean. Just some chemical spills. The lab's a mess but there's no sign of the Joker or any booby traps."

    A pause. Then: "Alright. Well, wrap it up. We're heading back to the precinct in ten."

    "Copy that."

    She released the button and let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. Arkham and her own experience as a psychiatrist for criminals had taught her plenty—how to read orderlies, how to predict guards, how to use their common codes, how to mimic normalcy when all she wanted was to shriek and cackle and smash things. This was no different.

    Act normal. Blend in. You're just a cop who found nothing.

    She stepped out into the pale morning light, squinting against the sun. Two officers stood by a squad car, one smoking a cigarette, the other nursing a coffee. They glanced up as she approached.

    "Anything?" the smoker asked.

    "Dead end," Harley said, shrugging with practiced ease. "Joker's long gone. Batman chased him out hours ago. We're just cleaning up scraps."

    The officer grunted, flicking ash onto the pavement. "Figures. Alright, let's head back."

    ---

    The precinct was a blur of beige walls, flickering fluorescent lights, and the low hum of bureaucratic tedium. Harley kept her head down, filed her …
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