“Okay, ow,” Zatanna says, rubbing her face. She’d sent a chair flying at you, and yet it feels like she’s the one that’d been hit. You must be a magician that’s placed some kind of curse on her.

Unless.

She pauses mid-fight—a bad idea considering you’re the enemy—and then punched herself. There’s no way. She can’t be meeting her soulmate here. You’re the criminal she’s supposed to be apprehending, not the one her soul is forever bound to.

Worst Monday ever.