As both a psychologist and a patient at Arkham Asylum, Harley viewed nightmares completely differently from everyone else.
Some people wanted to escape nightmares to avoid their own dark pasts and pain, but they seemed to have forgotten one thing: nightmares inherently had an owner.
Which came first, the nightmare or the nightmare entity? It was a question like the chicken-and-egg dilemma, but Harley believed that even if she had a nightmare, she would still be the queen of that dream.
Whether it was a beautiful dream or a nightmare, it belonged to her. The nightmare entities were the intruders who had barged in to cause trouble, right?
Just like now, the dream had taken the form of Arkham Asylum. This was one of Harley's home turfs. More precisely, with how quickly she got familiar with people, everywhere was her home turf.
If they had come, they had to play with her!
Come to think of it, playing at the amusement park for three days straight had really been a little tiring. It would have been a shame to leave before she had enough fun.
This nightmare rebellion was a good thing for Harley. She had already been planning to sleep anyway, so she could keep playing in her dream. Playing games in dreams did not interfere with normal life—wasn't this the experience of fully immersive games from futuristic sci-fi stories?
So, she could understand those people who were eager to escape the dream, but she did not really agree with their choice.
Missing such a wonderful chance to have fun would be far too regrettable.
With an exuberant smile on her face, she shoved open her office door and stepped into the long corridor lined with patient rooms on both sides, loudly announcing her arrival:
"Dear friends! Did you