MC, Nova, and Nina gave Santa a rest as they pondered the actions that they deemed to be best. The problem was urgent, this they could tell. For if the Dyn harnessed Christmas, their doom it would spell. When Santa woke again they knew what to do. They couldn’t ignore this and let chaos ensue! But Santa surprised them with a promise of power. To give MC strength in their darkest hour.

The three had long made up their minds that stopping the research on Christmas Spirit was an absolute necessity if they were going to stand any chance against the Dyn. If the Dyn could successfully harness the power of Christmas, any rebel efforts would be for naught. The conclusion they arrived at was that helping Santa was the best course of action in the long run, with Nina and MC being particularly adamant. When Santa woke up from his unconscious slumber, MC walked over to the fat man's bed and leaned against the wall. Upon closer inspection, MC found Santa Claus’ withering constitution plainly noticeable. His skin was near transparent and signs of exhaustion showed in every wrinkle and crease on his face. While MC was no stranger to perseverance himself, he was astonished at the man's tenacity in making it this far in such a condition. MC added another reason to hate the Dyn to his list. He kneeled down to talk.

“Hey Kris Kringle, how are you holding up?”

Santa closed his eyes for a moment collecting himself. “Well, Magnus my boy, I certainly wouldn’t want Mrs. Claus to see me right now, ho ho ho! The last time I felt this horrible I had made too sharp a turn on my sleigh one Christmas and dropped my sack of presents directly over Peru’s stem cell research facility. The darn thing sank through six floors and four labs. Set them back decades, it did. From that point onward I’ve had the reindeer drive my sleigh.”

MC racked his brain over whether or not this was Santa’s attempt at a joke, but particular memories of social media memes from the past suggested that laughing at this would definitely be inappropriate.

“Hey, I’m curious Santa. Was I on the naughty list? I was for sure on the naughty list, right?” MC asked, doing his best to ignore Santa’s confession of accidental terrorism.

“Ho ho ho. Magnus my boy, you weren’t even on a list! You walked a gray, thin line. You took lives to save them. Stole food to feed the hungry. Lied to loved ones to protect them from the truth. You never wanted to be on the nice list, Magnus, but I suppose I never had the heart to put you on the naughty one,” Santa stroked his beard as he continued. “As for your sister, she approached the tippity-top of the nice list. Always working hard to bring out the happiness in the world, one war-torn country at a time. Bless her little heart.”

He stopped stroking his beard and heaved himself upright, now sitting face-to-face with MC. His demeanor turned stiff as he held both his hands together in his lap.

“Will you save Christmas, Magnus?” Santa asked with a quiver in his voice.

MC answered without hesitation, having already made up his mind hours earlier. “I was already planning on it, Santa. The Dyn already had several appointments with my itchy trigger finger. All this is, is a little rescheduling.”

Santa looked into MC’s eyes and was met with an unyielding resolve tempered through hundreds of life and death conflicts. Santa gave MC an ambivalent nod, happy with the answer but not with the request.

“Then I have a small gift for you. Quite likely the only present I’ll be giving this year. I don’t have very much Christmas Spirit left now, Magnus. Perhaps, at most, enough to last me another year before the remnants leave my body and I fade away like a forgotten idea. But we don’t have that kind of time. We need to act now before the Dyn finish their research and all is lost. So I’ll give you what I have to spare, leaving myself only enough to last until the day is done. With my magic, you should be able to use my sleigh and locate the facility.”

MC narrowed his eyes. “Santa, I don’t wanna--”

Santa raised a finger to his lips, shushing the merc.

“You won’t be able to find the facility in time on your own, and I wasn’t conscious enough to tell you where I fled from either. Please, Magnus. Take my gift, find the facility, and release my Christmas Spirit!” Santa begged, weakness preventing him from raising his voice beyond a soft whisper.

With his arm outstretched, Santa pleaded with him to take it. Seeing no way out of this request, MC grasped Santa’s hand and nodded. A pleasant warmth flowed through his hand and traveled up his arm. The pleasure soon turned into a sharp stinging under his skin and then into a hot fire that engulfed his whole body. MC clenched his hand in agony but softened his grip before he crushed the fragile hand he was holding onto.

MC looked aghast as green fur began to sprout from his flesh and completely cover the once visible skin on his arm. A throbbing pain erupted in his skull, matching the intensity of some of his fiercest headaches. Then the pain was gone, and left in its place was his gift from Santa. MC groaned from the lingering ache in his head but ignored it as he read the abilities description.

jOllY FEstiVe grEeN hOliDAY!

TIS tHE SeAsoN.

SteAl fRom THem giVE to tHeM decK THe hALLS wITH THEiR eNTrAILs! HaNg tHE WreaThES hANG THeir coRpES WIth CaNDY naILS! CHRIStmAS TimE HohOHO NONoNO NohONOHoNoHO! KIll scROOGe SaVe FAT man! TaKE SCRoOge liFE FoR sANtA LiFESpaN!

MC sighed at the nonsensical description. It was somehow even more obnoxious this time due to the awful rhyming. He decided that checking the vidsphere would be a better idea for learning about his new powers. The ability’s vidsphere demonstrated a man covered in green fur flying in the sky atop a sleigh with a large sack over his shoulder. The green man then pulled weaponry from the sack on his shoulder one after another while under fire from a Dyn aircraft. After pulling out three comically sized weapons - clearly demonstrating the sack's misleading capacity - he fired off a barrage of bullets from the most recently retrieved weapon. Despite the valiant effort, a bright beam engulfed the sleigh and the man, leaving only the sleigh intact as it plummeted out of the sky.

“This one seems pretty interesting. I even got killed by an awesome beam this time,” MC said, feeling up his body for any missing parts but finding none. “Kringle, this better not be fucking permanent.”

Damn. The stupid fucking parasite must have interfered with the Christmas Spirit somehow. Who knows what kind of repercussions this will have in the long term. The real question is, will Santa even be able to remove the ability from my body if it's merged with the parasite? Well, all questions worth asking I suppo--

MC noticed Santa's health had taken a turn for the worse. The Santa from just moments prior had looked ill and weak without a doubt, but the man laying in front of MC now was in such poor condition that he was likely walking up death’s porch to go knock on the door. A glance at the man’s arms revealed a concerning loss of weight. Santa’s once plump body had been replaced with skin and bones barely capable of insulating his shivering body. His hair had become even whiter, his wrinkles many times more numerous and pronounced. Every breath he took sounded like a desperate attempt to capture air. MC rushed through Sanctuary in search for Nova - Santa’s only chance at surviving until morning.