Far, far away, he rode on his sleigh, heading North on the twenty-fourth, to rescue Christmas day. Though in retrospect, what he didn’t expect, was how fast the sleigh would go! He was in for a ride, vomit over the side, as he breached the northern snow. And in under an hour! Damn it had power. He was more than impressed but his face was stuck sour.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck! Is that fat bastard suicidal or something!?” MC screamed as he gripped whatever he could reach on the sleigh. He'd been traveling north when he thought to test what would happen if he added more Spirit to the sleigh. Nothing happened at first, but before he even had the chance to try again the sleigh was already barreling through the sky at a speed that would kill any passenger under normal circumstances. But this didn't stop MC from viewing the scenery as it passed by fast enough to make him sick, nor did it reassure him when the reason he was alive was simplified into the fix-all answer of ‘magic’.

“I underestimated this stupid red sleigh. If Nina knew that it could do this, she wouldn’t have stayed back at Sanctuary even if I tied her to the floor. Santa uses some powerful NOS on his ride.” MC joked, but he wasn’t happy with his admittedly idiotic decision to experiment while lives were at stake. With hours of flight time saved, it wasn’t long before the scenery outside the sleigh became whiter and he neared his destination. MC - trying to assess his general location - noticed that the landscape was slowing down around him. The sleigh started to decelerate and returned to its earlier pace.

Based on his trajectory and speed, his best guess was that he was somewhere near the tundra past the Jasnotean Autocracy. MC felt he was extremely close to his destination, as the levels of Christmas energy in the air were almost thick enough to feel. But what he really felt more was the harsh blizzard snow stinging against his face and arms. Fortunately for MC, the blizzard was only a minor discomfort. The thick green fur on his body acted as a shield against the elements. Though it kept him warm, his fur did little to resolve the issue of minute visibility in the frost.

“Damn, I can’t see two feet in front of me in this. It looks like the perfect job for ol’ Rudolph,” MC griped as he summoned his velvet sack in front of him. Reaching inside, he pulled out a blue and white cannon with a sophisticated design and a snowflake pattern along the barrel. MC leaned the cannon against the front of the sleigh and pointed directly at twelve o'clock. MC gripped the trigger at the back of the gun.

“Santa has good taste. To think he worked this hard on a gift he’d never actually give away. I’ll have to pick his brain on what this thing's made out of. The thing feels like it weighs a hundred pounds but looks like it's eight thousand. Let's see what a moon carving cannon can do.”

MC touched the trigger and braced for the recoil. “Won’t you guide my sleigh, Rudolph?”

He squeezed the trigger and the barrel began to glow red and white. The light from the barrel illuminated the surroundings before launching a piercing beam through the sky. The cannon recoiled and pushed MC back several feet, but the man was too experienced to be blown off his feet like an amateur. Keeping the cannon steady, he used the gun's muzzle blast to scan the snowy landscape for any traces of the facility Santa had escaped from. By this point, MC was nearly experiencing sensory overload from the sheer amount of Christmas energy around him. A cursory glance towards the front of the sleigh had MC doing a double-take. The previously-empty scenery now displayed the silhouette of a structure in the distance.

With the blizzard subsiding into a flurry of falling snow, MC let go of the trigger and let the beam slowly die out. Placing the cannon back into the bag, he pulled out a different weapon as he approached the structure. The new weapon was a tank-busting bazooka sporting four launch tubes. The monstrosity was made to fire four 66mm rockets without recoil from the comfort of one's very own shoulder. Its minimalist design inspired no creativity - boxy and matte grey - as bland as they come.

MC still remembered why he had asked Santa for it all those years ago. As a child, he had watched the United Federation of Nations unveil its new tank with armor capable of withstanding a warhead dropped right on top of it. His eight-year-old brain instantly realized a fatal flaw in the design that the military had never thought of: “What if they shoot two?”

Then even more ingeniously: “What if they shot four!?”

Pfft. Can’t believe I asked Santa for that back then. I think it’s safe to say that eight would have had much better results than either two or four! I hope these aren’t nuclear, though. I asked for nuclear. Certainly, there are lines he won’t cross…right?

MC neared the structure. The silhouette was replaced by a tower of steel and MC began to notice several strange details about the “building”. He studied the rubble lying around the tower’s base, seemingly devoid of any Dyn presence. Craning his neck, he looked for the top of the tower, but it was so tall that it pierced the clouds. Another identical tower was visible a mile or two away. Continuing to survey the remains on the ground, MC decided to land. He'd have better luck searching for signs of the Dyn from the ground.

With a surprisingly graceful landing for someone who nearly died trying to fly at Mach 5k earlier, MC exited the sleigh and searched the ruins for intel. He was on edge. Having no company despite firing the largest “come get me” banner across the night sky had left MC expectant of an ambush or trap. He Relocated rubble until he found his first clue, lying there crushed beneath thousands of pounds of rubble. MC moved closer to examine the corpse that had been smashed into a paste.

Did he die when the building collapsed? If I remember correctly, Santa said he escaped by using the opportunity left by a Dyn rebel attack. This is probably one of the corpses left from the attack. But, did the rebels really destroy the entire fucking building to kill them?

MC began finding more bodies trapped beneath the rubble, giving him a better understanding of how things might have gone down. A quiet rumbling attracted his attention. He hollowed out an underground cavity and hid in it, staying as quiet as possible. Peeking out from the burrow, he found no sign of any Dyn or their Chariots.

If all the Dyn died killing each other, that would explain why I wasn’t attacked. This could be a trap, but it’s not like that makes my objective any different.

The rumbling had grown stronger. The tower began to shake. That was soon accompanied by the screeching of metal and the sounds of sirens. MC held his ears as the cacophony of noises grated his skull. MC rushed back to the sleigh, getting off the ground that had begun to quake vigorously. Once in the sky again, MC watched the tower and waited for whatever the Dyn had in store for him.

Then, in an act that defied gravity, the tower began to float off the ground as it stretched towards him, bottom first. A harsh tug from MC had the sleigh yanked out from the tower's path as it collapsed back into the dirt. Another wave of sirens went off as a pulse of Christmas energy collided with MC’s senses. Nausea from the sensory overload overwhelmed him. Thousands of lights erupted across the tower and above the clouds. The entire night sky was lit up like a Christmas tree.

When the clouds cleared, MC picked up his gun and let out a sigh. The tower nearest to him and the one in the distance connect to an even larger structure up higher. Flying out far enough, MC was able to see the entirety of the building. What had greeted him was a monumental body the size of two Mt. Everests. It had enormous letters written in English across its girth and shifted its head to face MC.

Mobile and Autonomous Dyn Energy Limit Factory (M.A.D. E.L.F.)

“I appreciate the irony, but I seriously don’t feel like laughing right now.” MC looked down at the gun in his hands. “I should've asked for eight. I definitely should've asked for eight.”

An ominous buzzing sound tore through the air and MC pulled the sleigh to the left on instinct. Just in time - a blur passed through the space he'd previously occupied. MC held his rocket launcher at the ready. Suspended in mid-air hundreds of feet away from the sleigh were giant blue and white snowflakes trained on his position. About twenty of them, with more appearing every passing second. MC could feel traces of Christmas Spirit from the snowflakes. The Dyn had perfected their weapon...

“So we were too late. They had already finished it long before Santa escaped to Sanctuary. That doesn’t matter. I’m not gonna let some scrooge ruin Christmas, and I’m not gonna leave until that hunk of metal is scrap rusting in the snow. You’re on MY Naughty List motherfucker! And that's the worst list to be on.”

As if on cue, the snowflakes launched at MC. He responded by firing off his first rocket into the hellstorm of incoming snowflakes. The rocket met the barrage head-on, exploding on impact. The ensuing flames engulfed the snowflakes surrounding the blast.

Through the smoke in the air, dozens of remaining snowflakes continued their pursuit of the sleigh. MC Relocated a large chunk of the rubble into their path to block the attack. They smashed into his makeshift shield and shattered across its surface, destroying the rubble in the process.

“I’m just warming up, big guy. What’s wrong? Does the Elf on the Shelf not know how to handle Santa’s favorite helper?”

The air distorted in a striped pattern of red and white. A rift appeared in the sky. Countless planes flew through the crack in space. Hundreds of candy cane planes piloted by gigantic gingerbread men, who made a beeline for MC and his sleigh.

“And here I thought we were fighting mano a mano, but you had to go and invite backup,” MC said. Damnit, why can’t I do that!

They descended upon MC, firing tens of thousands of rounds from candy turrets as they dove in formation. MC took aim and fired two more rockets at the incoming fleet of treats. They proved far more difficult a target than the snowflakes, initiating combat maneuvers that turned the shootout into a dogfight.

“I wouldn't have it any other way. Time to catch some gingerbread men.”