On the first anniversary of the "Link Era," Earth was transformed into a dreamlike paradise unlike anything it had ever seen.
Above New York, antigravity flying cars formed dazzling ribbons, while holographic dragons and phoenixes played among the skyscrapers. The giant screens in Times Square no longer showed dizzying advertisements. Instead, they played the "miracles" of Link stopping tsunamis, transforming deserts, and ending wars on a loop. Every scene drew waves of reverent cheers from the crowds below.
The Thames in London had been turned into a flowing river of stars by the Reality Stone. The hands of the ancient Big Ben ran backward, sounding a hymn to the New God. Atop the Eiffel Tower in Paris, a "sun" made of energy shone over the entire city, driving away every trace of gloom.
In every corner of the world, people wore the same almost standardized expression of contented, peaceful happiness. They enjoyed lives without crime, hunger, or disaster. Link was their god, the sole creator of this "perfect world."
From his Throne, Link looked down on it all. He savored its absolute order and harmony, and the adoration of the masses. This was what he had built with his own hands, the final form he believed the universe should take. Beside him, Harley Quinn wore a magnificent gown and yawned in boredom.
She looked at Link's face, so calm it was nearly expressionless, and irritation stirred in her. She missed the Link who had gone wild with her in Arkham, who had turned Gotham upside down fighting for territory—not this "statue" seated high above the world, receiving its worship.
Lil' Puddin', it's time for a real surprise at your celebration. Harley quietly pressed the teddy-bear-shaped device Batman had given her, hidden in her palm.
She thought it would be a