In some apartment lost in the suburbs, dark, smelling like old pizza and despair.
Wade is sitting on the couch, no pants, hugging a white unicorn plush with a… questionable level of emotional intensity.
POV WADE WILSON
"Oh yes, little Sparklebutt… you get me. You don't judge me for what I did with that spatula and the mashed potatoes…"
CRASH!
A metallic projectile burst through the window, shattering the glass and landing right in the bowl of expired cereal on the table. I fell off the couch from the scare, dropping the unicorn.
"NINJA REFLEXES!" I yelled, rolling across the floor until I ended up in fetal position. "Assassination attempt! Violation of private property! INTERRUPTION OF A SACRED MOMENT OF SELF-DISCOVERY!"
From the device, a blue flash emerged. A hologram of a stern-looking man with silver hair and a suit that costs more than my entire existence appeared floating.
"Wilson. Allow me to introduce myself, I am Gustav Silbe. I have a high-priority contract…"
"Who?" I asked, scratching my butt through my underwear.
"Gustav Silbe. As I was saying, I am looking for the best assassin to…"
"Sorry, Gus, not ringing a bell. Did you work on Glee? Are you the guy who sells life insurance to the henchmen I kill? Because if so, I've got a complaint about the policy…"
"Shut up and listen!" the hologram roared. "I'm offering you a job: kill Santa Claus. Once it's done, the reward will be more money than you could spend in ten lifetimes."
"Santa? The cookie guy? The one with enslaved reindeers?" I burst out laughing. "Dude, you've watched way too many low-budget movies. Santa doesn't exist, he's a Coca-Cola invention to sell liquid diabetes."
"You're wrong. Santa Claus is real. He is an Omega level mutant who resides in the North Pole. His existence disrupts the balance I wish to impose. Kill him, and you may enjoy as much money as you desire."
The hologram faded, leaving a figure with too many zeros floating in the air before shutting off.
Wade, don't you dare. It's Santa. If you kill him, you'll destroy Christmas and the childhood of millions. That's peak evil, even for you. Don't do it.
"Why not?" I stood up, adjusting my mask. "That chubby dude owes me a red Schwinn bike from 1985. He brought me socks. SOCKS! Now that I know he's real, this is personal. The dude's a powerful mutant, lives hidden… how the hell am I supposed to find his postal code in the middle of the snow?"
Well, if he's a mutant of that caliber, he'll show up in Cerebro. You could go to the X-Mansion, enter the database and…
"Got it!" I exclaimed, slapping my palm. "I'll go to the X-Mansion! If the fat guy is a mutant, Cerebro will have him registered as a big red dot on the map. I'm a genius!"
…That's exactly what I just said. But there's a problem: the psychics. Jean Grey or the bald guy will detect you before you even cross the yard. You'd need Magneto's helmet to block them.
"Hey!" I said, completely ignoring her. "I just came up with a brilliant idea. So that the telepaths don't read my impure thoughts, I need Magneto's helmet."
But that's what I just said!
"If I remember correctly," I continued, walking toward my weapons closet, "the old man Erik takes a nap at three in the afternoon. It's the perfect time to steal his helmet while he dreams about concentration camps and bent spoons. MUAHAHAHA! I'm a brilliant strategist!"
I hate you. And what about security? Cerebro has a retinal scanner. You can't just walk in.
"Don't worry about that, little voice. I've got it all handled. I've got a plan that involves science, art, and probably some industrial glue."
I walked to the door, ready for action, but suddenly stopped. I turned around, went back to the couch and grabbed the unicorn by the horn.
"Come here, Sparklebutt. We're not done with our therapy session yet," I said, stuffing him in my backpack next to the grenades. "Christmas is going to be explosive this year."
==============================================================
Genosha. The mutant paradise island that looks like a summer camp for people who can melt your face with a thought. I walked down the main path, greeting everyone left and right.
"Hey, Toad! Love the new shade of green, really makes your warts pop! Mystique! Is that your natural color or are you scared? Say hi to the family!"
Wade, we're in Brotherhood territory. If they catch you trying to rob their leader, they'll use us as a genetic punching bag. Be discreet.
"Discreet? Discretion is for people who don't have a healing factor that lets them regenerate a liver in the time a cereal commercial lasts," I replied, ignoring the voice. "Erik is waiting for me for our weekly game of Parcheesi. He doesn't know it, but I do."
Suddenly, the sun vanished. It wasn't the moon, it was something much bigger, with a metal helmet the size of a beer barrel. I bumped face-to-chest with a wall of muscle called Cain Marko. The Juggernaut.
"Cain! My favorite giant!" I exclaimed, looking up. "Just the guy I wanted to see. The beloved leader summoned me, he wants to talk about… you know, villain things. Is world domination still fashionable or are we more into saving the Amazon now?"
Cain crossed his arms, his shadow completely swallowing me.
"Magneto called you?" he growled with an earthquake voice. "Why would the boss want to talk to a talking trash bag?"
"Hey! I'm a stylish trash bag." I slipped between his gigantic legs, giving his butt a loud smack as I passed. "I'll tell you later, big guy!"
I didn't get to take a second step. A massive hand, the size of a family pizza, clamped down on my skull and began to squeeze.
CRACK! SQUISH!
I felt my skull turn into a thousand-piece puzzle. Blood started pouring from my ears and nose, staining my red mask an even darker red.
"Oh, yes…" I groaned, although my jaw was dislocated. "That's how I like it… squeeze me… Cain, you really know what a guy likes. If you wait until I finish my business with Erik… we could hit the Jacuzzi… I'll bring rubber duckies…"
Juggernaut lifted me into the air until my smashed face was level with his visor.
"Every time you show up somewhere, you end up making a mess, Wilson," Cain said, squeezing a little harder. "I don't believe a word you say. No one would call you, not even to clean toilets."
Told you! Apologize! Beg, BEG!
"Please Cain!" I pleaded with my hands together, while some brain matter dripped down my forehead. "Please please please believe me! I'm a mutant of my word! I've even got my membership card!"
With effort, I pulled out a shiny golden card from my pocket. It was a Brotherhood Membership Card – Platinum Version. It had a picture of me posing with a fake helmet and under the benefits it said: "Discount on magnets and free entry to 'Hate Humans Night' events on Tuesdays."
"Look! I'm platinum level! I can order dessert before everyone else!"
Cain didn't even look. He squeezed me with the force of a hydraulic press until my knees said hello to my tonsils.
"Not today, Wilson," Juggernaut growled.
He hurled me with the strength of a SpaceX rocket. I shot across the blue sky of Genosha, spinning like a deranged helicopter.
"TEAM DEADPOOL HAS BEEN DEFEATED ONCE AGAIIIIINNNN!" I screamed as my silhouette turned into a tiny star.
PLIM! (Little twinkling star in the distance.)
==============================================================
Three minutes later: Magneto's headquarters
I'm tying a rope around my waist in front of a circular skylight. My body is making popcorn noises as my bones snap back into place.
Wait… what just happened? A second ago we were in the stratosphere thanks to Cain. How the hell did we get to Magneto's roof?
"Don't you remember?" I asked while tying the rope to a gargoyle shaped like a helmet. "It was incredible. We did… then we went through… and then he said… and BAM! We made it here! Very cinematic, shame the budget wasn't enough to show it."
…What? What are you talking about? That makes no sense!
"Shhh. Quiet, Voice. We're in Mission Impossible mode. Play Tom Cruise music in my head."
TUN TUN, TUNTUNTUN TUN
I slipped through the skylight, slowly descending on the rope. I was the embodiment of stealth…
TURURUUUUN… TURUN
Until I wasn't. I miscalculated the length and my belt pulley slipped.
"Holy chimichan…!"
I plummeted. On the way down I smashed a porcelain vase (CRASH!), bounced off a silver plate table (CLANG!), and finally plowed through a metal abstract art sculpture that looked like a rusty chair (CRUNCH!).
We're dead! He's going to wake up and turn us into canned tuna!
I stopped just two centimeters from the floor, the rope tightening at the last millisecond. I hung there, swinging like a human pendulum, sweat soaking my mask.
Slowly, I stood up on the bear skin rug (which was probably a mutant Magneto didn't like).
I looked toward the canopy bed. Erik Lehnsherr, master of magnetism, was still peacefully snoring, wearing a sleep mask that said "Magneto is right."
"See that?" I whispered, wiping some blood from my nose. "I'm as silent as a humpback whale in a marshmallow field."
I cannot believe he's still asleep… That man either takes industrial-strength sleeping pills, or he has the deepest sleep in human history.
"It's the privilege of being a retired dictator." I said, approaching the nightstand where the purple helmet gleamed in the sunlight. "Now to borrow the thinking hat."
I grabbed the helmet delicately. I lifted it, put it on, and felt that pleasant mental emptiness… just kidding, I feel just as brilliant as always.
"Mission accomplished," I whispered, posing like I was on the cover of a spy magazine.
Incredible… you actually did it. But now how do you plan to get off the island without them catching you? At any moment Magneto could wake up and…
"GOT YOU!" a voice roared from the bed.
I got so scared my sphincters almost filed for retirement. I dropped to my knees on the rug, exhaling sharply.
"MERCY, ERIK! I HAVE A UNICORN TO SUPPORT!" I screamed with my hands up. "Don't turn me into a paperclip! I'll give the helmet back, I only wanted it for a costume party with the theme 'Villains Over 70!'"
I waited for the magnetic doom… but nothing. Silence. I peeked. Magneto was still wearing the sleep mask, shifting in the sheets.
"…you're going to have to shine my shoes, Charles…" Erik mumbled in his sleep, with a smug little smile. "…they have to shine brighter than your bald head… I was always… always right… Zzzzz."
I stayed quiet for a few seconds processing that image.
Thank goodness… false alarm. He was just sleep talking. Wade, let's leave BEFORE he starts dreaming about the Axis of Evil.
"Whew, my second heart almost had a heart attack," I said, wiping sweat. "See, little voice? I told you. The escape plan is flawless. All I have to do is…"
===============================================================
Somewhere over the Arctic Ocean
TUKU-TUKU-TUKU-TUKU!
The roar of the blades cut the air. I'm sitting in the pilot seat of a Brotherhood combat helicopter, wearing Magneto's helmet and a wool scarf that looks FA-BU-LOUS.
WHAT?! AGAIN?! Wade, for the love of God! How the hell did we get a helicopter?! Ten seconds ago we were on Magneto's rug!
"Seriously, you sound like a rookie," I said, casually steering with one hand while eating a chocolate bar with the other. "The plan was flawless. I only had to… then we passed through… and after convincing the guard I was his shadow… BAM! VIP transport to the X-Mansion!"
Don't give me that cheap explanation! It's a HELICOPTER! It's LOUD! You're seriously telling me you stole a military aircraft from a mutant base and NO ONE saw you?!
"Told you," I replied, winking at the camera. "I'm as stealthy as a humpback whale in a marshmallow field. Plus, I put the helicopter in ninja mode."
Helicopters don't have ninja mode!
"This one does. I stuck a shuriken sticker on the tail. Pure science." I looked out the window.
I spotted the pristine grounds of Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters. The yard was full of mutant teens playing soccer or burning stuff with their eyes.
"Alright, there it is. The Bald Nest," I said, adjusting Magneto's helmet, which kept wobbling on my head. "We'll land in the woods, sneak in through the basement, and use Cerebro."
I still don't understand how you plan to pass Cerebro's retinal scanner. It's cutting-edge tech.
"Relax, Voice. The 'eye' I got is top quality. Well, it's actually a peeled grape with an iris drawn on with permanent marker, but if you add enough faith and some of my saliva, it fools even a Sentinel!"
I landed the helicopter between the trees with the delicacy of a piano falling from a tenth floor. I jumped out, grabbed my backpack with Sparklebutt inside, and switched to stealth mode.
"Get ready, Charles. Today the most advanced security system in the world will be defeated by a mercenary with a stolen helmet and a hunger for chimichangas with no borders."
==============================================================
I was inside. I had managed to enter through the laundry ducts, which explained why I now smelled like wildflowers and fabric softener.
I was wearing Magneto's helmet, moving pressed against the walls, making "Swish! Boom!" sounds every time I turned a corner.
Wade, stop making sound effects with your mouth. Someone's going to hear you.
"It's to maintain focus. Real ninjas do it, they're just so fast you can't hear them."
I peeked into one of the main hallways. In the distance, I saw Logan walking with a towel over his shoulder and a beer in hand. He stopped right in front of the marble statue where I was "hiding." Well, more like clinging to it while trying to imitate its "mutant thinker" pose.
"What the hell…?" Logan growled, sniffing the air. "Smells like gunpowder and… fabric softener?"
I froze harder than an Instagram picture. I even stopped breathing while the metal-clawed cat approached sniffing around.
"Logan!" Ororo shouted from the other end of the hallway. "The Professor said to go to the Danger Room. Bobby froze the circuits again trying to make a giant strawberry slushie."
Logan grunted, gave one last suspicious look to my "statue," and walked off.
"Whew! That was close, he almost used me as a scratching post," I whispered once he left.
==========================================================
I kept moving toward the library, but the door suddenly swung open. I dropped to the floor and crawled under a small Persian rug.
It only covered my torso; my legs and head were sticking out like a badly made mercenary sandwich. Kitty Pryde and Colossus walked in talking.
"I'm telling you, Piotr, I saw something purple in the garden," Kitty said while browsing books. "It looked like a helmet."
"Maybe it is stress from exams, Katya," Piotr replied with his deep voice.
Then it happened. The giant metal man walked toward the shelf and unknowingly planted his hundred-kilo steel boot directly on my left hand. Then, when he turned, he shifted his weight onto my right knee.
CRACK! SQUISH!
My eyes nearly shot out of their sockets under the mask. Pain exploded in a multicolored agony
. I wanted to scream every deity's name known to mankind, but only a pathetic wheeze left my nose as my bones turned to paste under the Russian refrigerator.
"Did you hear that?" Kitty asked. "Like a… whistle."
"It is wind in frozen pipes," Piotr said, giving my hand one last squeeze before heading to the exit. "Come."
They left. I crawled out from under the rug like a broken accordion. My hand looked like a meat pancake.
"Damn… Soviet… refrigerator…" I groaned as my bones cracked back into place.
==============================================================
The hallway is white, aseptic, and smells like multi-billion-dollar technology. I'm standing right in front of the imposing circular door of Cerebro. Over my shoulder, I'm carrying a giant duffel bag, the size of an adult man, with a very suspiciously lumpy shape.
I let the bag drop to the floor with a dull, heavy THUD that makes the metal floor vibrate. A very muffled groan can be heard from inside… or maybe it was just the fabric scraping the floor.
I wait. One second. Two seconds.
...
"What's wrong?" I asked, looking toward the ceiling. "Aren't you going to ask? Not even one doubt? Not even a 'Hey Wade, how the hell did we get through three security levels, coded elevators, and laser patrols carrying a lump that weighs more than Scott Summers' ego'?"
(Long, tired sigh) Why? So you can tell me you did a magic trick with a unicorn and a blender? It won't make sense. The script just put you here because the writer is too lazy to go into detail. I give up, Wade. Do what you have to do.
"That's the spirit!" I laughed, patting the metal door. "You still have a lot to learn about how this business works, little grasshopper. Continuity is for boring people who don't have a budget to worry about, not for people reading fanfic on a highly questionable website."
I approached the retinal scanner panel.
"Alright, time to enter Baldy's playroom," I said as my hands began unzipping the big bag with a grin from ear to ear. "The scanner asks for an original Xavier retina… and I always bring the best of the best for my fans. Applied science, baby!"
My hands finished pulling the zipper down with a metallic, satisfying sound. With an effort worthy of an Olympic weightlifter, I grabbed what was inside and dragged it across the metal floor.
Charles Xavier. Unconscious, with his immaculate suit slightly wrinkled and a bump the size of a golf ball shining right in the middle of his bald forehead.
WADE?! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?! YOU KIDNAPPED AND KNOCKED OUT THE MOST POWERFUL PSYCHIC ON THE PLANET?! THE LEADER OF THE X-MEN! THE MAN WHO HAS A BUTTON TO FRY OUR BRAINS FROM THE OTHER SIDE OF THE WORLD! WE'RE DEAD! NO, WORSE THAN DEAD! MAGNETO IS GOING TO USE US AS A FRIDGE MAGNET AND THE X-MEN ARE GOING TO DISINTEGRATE US!
"Oh, please, such negativity!" I said, dismissing the screams with a flick of my hand. "Relax, Little Voice. I'm Logan's best friend. Well, he says he hates me and has stabbed me thirty-seven times this month, but in 'tough guy' language that means we're inseparable. They'll forgive me. It's a holiday prank, like putting salt in someone's coffee."
I knelt beside the Professor. With one hand, I held his head (which, by the way, is very well polished), and with the other, I used my fingers to pry his right eyelid wide open.
"Rise and shine, Charles! Look toward the red light!" I exclaimed, lifting his limp body toward the sensor.
The scanner's laser swept across Xavier's eye, which twitched slightly due to unconsciousness.
"Identity confirmed. Welcome, Professor Xavier. Access granted."
Cerebro's hydraulic doors slid open with an imposing hiss, revealing the walkway leading to the center of the sphere.
"Open sesame!" I shouted, dropping Xavier's body without the slightest care.
The Professor smacked onto the floor (CLONK!), his head bouncing slightly against the metal.
"Told you! Only premium-quality human contact," I said, jumping over him to enter the room. "Now, time to find that fat mutant who owes me a bicycle. Charles, stay there, don't move… oh wait, that's dark humor because you can't walk! Wow, I'm a terrible person!"
I entered Cerebro. The lights began turning on one by one, reflecting on Magneto's helmet, which I was still wearing.
I walked along the metal walkway until I reached the central terminal. Everything was bright, blue, and very, very expensive.
"Let's see, let's see… let's find a fat guy with a beard who lives in the cold and has Omega-level powers…"
My gloved fingers flew across the touchscreen. Files scrolled rapidly: "Mutants in Hawaii," "Mutants who look like furniture," until finally…
"Jackpot! Prize for the mercenary with the stolen helmet!" I shouted at the screen.
A holographic map unfolded, marking a precise point in the North Pole along with coordinates. Santa Claus was there, probably fattening up on milk and cookies.
Congratulations, you've got the location. Now, can we talk about the important part? How the hell do you plan to get out of here? Charles is lying at the door, the X-Men must be about to find out, and we're in the most heavily guarded basement in the world. There's no way that…
==========================================================
Somewhere over the Arctic Circle
"🎶 Silent night, deadly night, Santa Claus will die tonight 🎶" I sang at full volume while piloting the Blackbird, the X-Men's supersonic jet, through a snowstorm.
Stop! I refuse! This is an insult to storytelling! How did we go from being locked in Cerebro to flying the most advanced jet on Earth?! Using this trick so many times loses the joke, Wade! It's lazy!
"I know, I know!" I said, moving the controls while the jet rattled in turbulence. "You're totally right, Little Voice. I also expected a choreographed action scene, maybe a tunnel chase, or me using Charles as a human shield while I jump out a window… but the writer doesn't want to think!"
I shrugged and looked directly at the camera.
"Look, guys, understand. Writing a clever escape takes time, coffee, and brain cells. And the dude typing this just wants to get to the part where I shoot a reindeer. So enjoy the ride! It's a courtesy time skip!"
You're a disaster and this Christmas special is going to end in disaster!
"But it'll be a disaster I'll cherish in my tiny heart," I replied as the jet's sensors began beeping. "Look at that! Radar detects a structure over the snow. A giant factory shaped like a boot."
The Blackbird's canopy was starting to freeze, but I didn't care. I had the heater on full blast and radar locked onto the giant dome that just appeared through the snow.
It was magnificent. Towers like candy canes. Lights that would make Las Vegas cry.
"🎶 Merry Christmas, happy new year and joy! I bring you missiles, I bring you bullets and a lot of evil 🎶" I sang while my fingers danced over the weapon controls.
Wade! You can't just bomb the North Pole! There are elves down there! There are endangered species! There are… international laws!
"Laws? At the North Pole? The only law here is whoever has the biggest gun, and lucky me, I've got a nuclear-capable combat jet!" I laughed maniacally, drool dampening the inside of my mask. "Check this out! It's like a video game but with better graphics and real consequences!"
My thumbs pressed the red buttons.
FWOOSH! FWOOSH!
Two long-range missiles launched from the wings, leaving white trails across the Arctic sky. They hit the main entrance, a massive oak door, reducing it to decorative splinters in seconds.
"And that's just the appetizer!" I yelled.
I activated the underbelly laser cannons and began circling the factory, firing red beams that pierced the roof and blew apart chimneys.
"This is for the bike!"
RATATATATA!
"This is for the reindeer socks!"
BOOM!
"And this is for the oatmeal cookies! Nobody wants oatmeal cookies, you lying fatty!"
You're going to melt the glaciers! Wade, stop! You're massacring Christmas!
"It's not massacre, it's aggressive corporate restructuring!" I replied, barrel-rolling the jet and spraying bullets at the reindeer stables (hope Rudolph has good insurance).
Explosions painted the sky. Snow turned into fire, black metal, and glittering magic dust. It was beautiful. Chaotic. Loud.
Suddenly, a golden light burst from the ruined factory. A shockwave smashed into the jet, making every alarm scream.
"Uh oh! Boss fight unlocked," I said, trying to stabilize as the left engine sparked. "Hold tight, Sparklebutt!"
The Blackbird was engulfed in flames. The right wing ripped off. The dashboard looked like a Christmas tree having a meltdown. "YOU'RE GONNA DIE!" alarms blared in three languages.
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
WADE! React! The ground is coming at 400 km/h! Do something! Eject! Parachute! Ask Disney for help! ANYTHING!
"Nah… chill," I said, leaning back with my arms crossed while snow trees grew huge in the windshield. "We know the trick. Screen cuts to black, then BAM, I'm on the ground brushing snow off my shoulder before kicking the fat man's butt. Trust the process."
Five seconds passed. The jet shook violently. The ground was less than a hundred meters.
Wade… there's no cut. The ground is still there. And it's VERY hard. Wade?
"Yeah… it's taking a while," I said, sweating under the mask, staring at the camera. "HEY! You, the writer! I tolerated your laziness! I let you skip the helicopter theft, mansion infiltration, Cerebro escape because you 'didn't feel like thinking.' But now I need you! DO THE CUT! MOVE YOUR FINGERS AND PUT US IN THE SNOW NOW!"
Nothing. The jet broke apart midair.
CRASH!
"You've gotta be kidding me!" I grabbed the camera. "READERS! If you can hear me, please comment! Tell him to do something! Vote for my survival! Don't let me end splattered like a mosquito on an Arctic windshield! FOR THE LOVE OF ANY GOD WHOSE RIGHTS AREN'T COPYRIGHTED…!"
Ten meters.
"LAZY WRITER PIECE OF—!"
BOOOOOOOOM!!!
A massive explosion lit the North Pole. The Blackbird became a fireball and red spandex confetti.
(From the smoking wreckage) Well… at least… no more… time cuts…
================================================
POV LEGION
The silence of the Arctic is a balm for my mind. Sitting on a giant iceberg, I enjoyed the scenery. Cold air. Deep blue ice. Perfect place for a picnic.
Just as I took the first bite, my helmet sensors began screeching.
"What the hell…?" I muttered, raising a brow.
My visor displayed off-the-charts thermal and kinetic readings. Coordinates pointed to the North Pole. I reluctantly set down my sandwich and took my hoverboard from my back. I hopped on and blasted toward the signal.
Why the board? I was inspired by the one Tetrax gave Ben. Took me days to learn… and many bruises.
As I approached, the scene was pure madness. In the distance, I recognized the Blackbird circling a structure that looked like a massive toy factory. And even stranger… it was bombing it with everything it had.
Then something clicked.
Wait… I forgot to verify it, but Santa Claus isn't a children's tale in Marvel. He's real. He's an Omega-level mutant (or close), one of the most powerful registered. Which only made it more absurd.
"Why would the X-Men attack Santa?" I wondered aloud. "Makes no sense."
Suddenly, a huge golden beam shot from the ruins. Clean hit. Straight into the jet. The Blackbird ignited and plunged.
BOOOOOOOM!!!
The impact created a massive fireball. The shockwave hit me seconds later; I jumped off the board, planted my feet, arms crossed to withstand it.
When the roar faded, I stared at the rising black smoke.
"What the hell…" I muttered.
I jumped back on the board and accelerated. If Santa responded with that power, whoever was in that plane just signed their death certificate. I had to see which lunatic caused this.
===============================================================
POV DEADPOOL
I crawled out of the smoking wreckage on one elbow, the other arm still a regenerating meat noodle. I spat out a turbine chunk and searched for my katanas.
"Stupid… bargain-bin… writer!" I growled as my femur clicked back into place. "Perfect timing for drama, huh?! Had to wait until puree mode! Hope your page crashes before saving, paragraph sadist!"
Wade, forget the writer! We just crashed a ten-billion-dollar jet into a legend's house! My mental blood pressure is skyrocketing!
"Don't talk to me about money!" I groaned, standing. My suit shredded, burnt flesh bubbling as it healed. "Logan's gonna deduct this from my Best Friends Loyalty Card!"
I grabbed my weapon bag. Through flames, I saw tiny elves running, screaming in jingle-bell language. Suddenly the air grew heavy. Flames bent aside as if something massive absorbed oxygen.
"Ho… Ho… Ho…"
The laugh wasn't joyful. It was deep, vibrating, authoritative enough to make my freshly healed bones want to break again. From smoke emerged the figure.
"Wade Wilson…" Santa said, his voice rumbling in my chest. "You've been very naughty. I've watched your record for years. Massacres. Jokes about private parts. Stolen chimichangas… but I never thought you'd attack me. That saddens me, child. You were such a good boy once…"
Wade, listen! He sounds disappointed! Maybe if we apologize and promise X-Men group therapy he'll spare us! Beg!
"Beg?!" I yelled, fixing my torn mask. "Don't come at me with that Disney dad tone, fatty! You know what saddens ME?! That 1985 red Schwinn bicycle! I behaved that whole year! Didn't bite anyone at recess! And you gave me WOOL SOCKS, YOU FRAUD!"
I took combat stance, katanas flashing firelight.
"Now I'm whole, my skin's radiant, and I've got a bag of boom-toys. I'm paid a fortune for your head, but screw the money. This is personal. I'm turning your reindeer into quarter-pounders!"
You're insane! He's Omega-level! He'll erase us! RUN!
"FOR MY BIKE, YOU JOLLY MEATBALL!" I screamed, leaping, crossing my katanas for his neck.
Santa moved impossibly fast. He blocked with a massive candy-warhammer. The shock rattled my arms.
"In 1994 you set the neighbor's cat on fire!" Santa thundered, smashing me back like a potato sack.
"THE CAT WAS HYDRA, AND YOU KNOW IT!" I yelled mid-flight, pulling twin SMGs and emptying clips. "I WAS SO GOOD THAT YEAR! I HELPED AN OLD LADY CROSS!"
Wade, she didn't want to cross! You dragged her three blocks! And look… the bullets are turning into… bubbles?!
Yes. Bubbles. Pine-scented.
"In 1999 you asked for a rocket launcher and I gave you Lego fire station so you'd learn value in building over destruction," Santa said, advancing.
"IT WAS FOR AGES 4–7 AND I WAS IN MY TWENTIES! INTELLECTUALLY OFFENSIVE!" I roared, lobbing three grenades.
He baseball-batted two away. The third I dropped at his boots.
"HA! Eat that, beard man!"
He picked it up. Metal turned to gingerbread. Pin became chocolate spark.
CRUNCH.
He ate it. Patted belly. Cinnamon burp.
"Too much salt, Wade. Like your attitude. The coal in 2005 you earned after the ball-pit orphanage incident. Don't deny it."
He's right, Wade. The orphanage thing was indefensible. And now he's charging!
"IT WAS ABOUT HONOR!" I shouted, pulling a flamethrower. "If you don't give me my gifts from the last thirty years, I'll melt this place until it's a filthy puddle with drowned elves!"
I blasted flame. He blew, conjuring Arctic wind, freezing fire midair. He stopped meters away, staring with terrifying father-disappointment.
"Wade Wilson… what you need is not a gift, but discipline," Santa declared, his hand glowing white. "A punishment worthy of your sins."
"Hey! No! No discipline! Time-out is for losers!" I shouted, trying to pull my legs out of the floor, which was starting to get covered in a sticky caramel layer. "Writer, get me out of this! Cut the scene! Cut the scene!"
The hot caramel kept rising up my legs, hardening like cement but smelling like strawberry. I kicked like a madman, feeling panic crawl up my throat.
"No! Wait! I'm too young and handsome to die turned into a giant lollipop!" I screamed, struggling. "I don't want to be elf dessert!"
Santa stopped the sugar flow with a gentle gesture. He looked at me with those deep, clear eyes.
"You're not going to die, Wade. You'll just stay still long enough for Mrs. Claus to tell you stories and teach you about the spirit of Christmas and good deeds. You need peace, not bullets."
"Peace?! Good deeds?!" I snapped, my voice cracking under years of piled-up rage. "Where were you when I was a kid and the world spit in my face?! Where was the 'legend' when I needed it most?!"
Santa sighed, his breath a warm breeze in the cold.
"Wade… I would love to help every child in the world with their problems. But I'm just a man. One man can't save the world or watch over every tear. That's why, millennia ago, I chose to be a legend. One that inspires children to do good, so that at the end of the year, no matter how rough the road was, if they acted with kindness, it was all worth it."
Santa slipped his hand into a hidden pocket of his red suit and pulled out something small, glowing with a faint light. It was an old, worn silver bracelet. My eyes opened so wide I nearly tore my mask.
"T-That… that's…" my voice turned into a whisper.
Wade… it's the bracelet your mother gave you when you were four years old. We thought it had been lost in that fire…
"Yes, you lost it," Santa nodded sadly. "Your mother was a person with many problems. She loved you, Wade, but she couldn't be with you; that's why she abandoned you. I knew it. That's why I gave you this bracelet when you were just a child: so you would remember her love. So you would know that, despite so much bad in your life, there was someone who loved you."
Santa looked at the jewel with a melancholy that tightened my chest.
"Unfortunately… it was not enough. I couldn't stop the world from hardening you."
I froze. Not even the little voice dared to say anything. For the first time in decades, I didn't have a stupid joke. I was there, in front of the man who knew my greatest secret.
But then, the air turned putrid.
From nowhere, enormous red hands, with claws black like burning coal, erupted from the snow itself.
They were nightmare claws that emitted an infernal heat. Before Santa could react, the hands grabbed him tightly by the legs and dragged him into the depths of the earth with inhuman violence.
"WHAT?!" I screamed, regaining speech.
"WADE, HEL—!" was all Santa could say before disappearing, swallowed by the snow.
In the struggle, the bracelet flew through the air and fell on the snow, right in front of me.
The candy that was imprisoning me vanished and I collapsed to my knees.
I ignored the crater where they had taken the Old Man. I ignored the explosions. I stretched out my trembling hand and grabbed the bracelet. Opening the small locket hanging from it, I read the engraved words:
"For my little one with love, your mommy will always love you."
I stared at the inscription on the worn metal, my eyes misted beneath the mask. The silence of the Arctic felt heavier than ever, broken only by the crackle of the Blackbird's remains in the distance.
Wade… maybe we were wrong. Santa wasn't giving you what you wanted… but what you needed. The socks for the cold on the streets, the Legos to build something instead of breaking it… and that bracelet to remind you that you weren't alone in the world.
"I've been an idiot," I whispered, squeezing the bracelet in my hand. "A complete and absolute idiot. The fat guy cared about me, in his magical and weird way… and I only focused on the stupid bicycle that never arrived. I was so busy hating him for what he didn't give me that I didn't see what he did give me."
I slowly stood up. The resentment that had fueled my engine for decades evaporated, leaving a cold void that could only be filled with one thing: redemption.
He knew who you were, Wade. And even so, he kept that memory for you. But now they've taken him. Something very dark just kidnapped Christmas. What are you going to do now?
"What I do best, Little Voice. I'm going to find whoever took my favorite fat guy and teach them why you don't interrupt Santa Claus' motivational speeches."
At that moment, a buzzing cut through the air. A sound of static and engines. I quickly turned my head, hand on my katana handle, expecting more red claws.
A short guy, barely 1.65 meters tall, was heading toward me riding some sort of flying board, and just a few meters away, he jumped down.
He looked around as he approached me, storing his skateboard on his back.
"Well, well, looks like we have visitors!" I exclaimed, sheathing a katana. "What's up, Oompa-Loompa? Did the X-Men send you to see if I finished breaking their toys or did you escape from the chocolate factory?"
Legion stopped abruptly and stared at me.
"What did you just call me?" he asked, with a distorted voice that sounded more confused than offended through the helmet.
"Oompa-Loompa," I repeated, pronouncing clearly. "You know, singing? Orange skin? Good at making candy?"
Legion tilted his head slightly, like a puppy trying to understand a magic trick.
"Why are you calling me that?" he asked curiously.
"Because you're tiny like an Oompa-Loompa, genius!" I exclaimed, gesturing wildly. "I almost confused you with one of Santa's elves, you're just missing a bell on your hat."
Legion stared at me for a few seconds in silence, probably wondering if Magneto's helmet was frying what was left of my neurons. In the end, he simply shook his head and turned away to ignore me.
"Whatever…" he muttered. "What are you doing here, Wade? Where is Santa?"
"First: I'm offended you're calling me by my first name, we're not that close, shorty," I said, approaching the crater and pointing downward. "And second: you're late for the family photo. Some giant red hands, like 'hell manicure,' just dragged the chubby guy straight down."
Legion approached, crouched, and began hitting the snow with his knuckles, like he was searching for a secret door.
"But… there's nothing here," Legion said, scratching his head. "There should be a tunnel or something. How did they take him if there's no hole?"
"He didn't just vanish, tadpole!" I yelled, losing patience. "I'm telling you hands grabbed him! It was a kidnapping, full-on! Do something, turn into a monster and go find Santa!"
Legion stood up, dusting snow off his knees.
"Listen, Wade… there's not much we can do here," the short guy said with a sigh. "If this is dark magic, the kind that leaves no trace, being a strong alien won't help me. We'd need to talk to a wizard, a sorcerer, or someone who knows about weird dimensions…"
But before he could finish, the ground beneath our feet rumbled with a dull roar.
VREEEEM!
Something shot out from the center of the snow at ridiculous speed, like a projectile fired from an air cannon. The object (or person) flew over our heads and crashed into a snow dune with an impact that sent a massive white cloud into the air.
The tadpole and I froze for a second. Then, we started running toward the crash site.
"Santa!" I screamed, dropping to my knees when I arrived.
It was him. But not the imposing Santa from minutes ago. He was injured, beard scorched and covered in soot. His iconic red coat and hat were gone; he was only in his torn inner tunic, revealing tattooed arms of ancient—
"Oh for all the chimichangas in the world! The fat guy is dead!" I shouted, spiraling into full panic. "Santa! Talk to me! Don't die now that I like you! Santa! Speak! If you die, who's going to arbitrarily judge my morality once a year?! I'll give you mouth to mouth!"
"Wade!" a deep, raspy voice thundered.
Santa put a massive hand over my face, stopping my hysteria. He coughed smoke and, with clear difficulty, began to sit up.
"No… I'm not dead," Santa said, gritting his teeth as pain crossed his face.
I hurried to put his arm around my shoulders to help him stand. He felt heavy, like a mountain, but there was urgency in his eyes.
"That thing…" Santa whispered, looking toward the still-trembling ground. "It didn't want to kill me… it wanted what's beneath the factory. Wade, help me stand. This isn't over."
Legion, without stopping his frantic dialing, finally stopped on a glowing emerald alien silhouette.
"Whatever threw you back up here, Santa… it's coming up," Legion said firmly. "And this time it's not wearing silk gloves."
Suddenly, the ground didn't just vibrate, it tore open. A hellish fissure, red like boiling blood, split through the snow.
From it, dozens of little demons began to emerge. Twisted, shrieking creatures dressed like broken toys: some wore porcelain doll heads as helmets, others had rusty spring limbs that screeched horribly when they bounced.
Finally, two colossal hands, with black claws and veins pulsing like rivers of lava, grabbed the edge of the fissure.
With a violent push, a two-and-a-half-meter figure emerged. It wore a ragged, twisted version of Santa's suit, but where its face should be, there was only an old wooden mask carved like Saint Nicholas, with two blazing orange coal eyes behind it.
"KYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!" I shrieked so sharply the remaining factory glass shattered. "WHAT THE HELL IS THAT THING?! IS IT THE UNACKNOWLEDGED LOVE CHILD OF A BALROG AND SANTA?!"
Santa, summoning superhuman will, extended his hand. With a magical whistle, his candy war hammer flew to him, locking into his palm with a sharp crack. The fat guy could move again and, despite his wounds, he stood in front of us.
"It is an ancient demon that feeds on evil and resentment every year," Santa said gravely. "Many know him as…"
"KRAMPUS" the demon roared, and the air turned icy.
Legion let out a frustrated sigh.
"Great…" the shorty muttered. "Fighting the demon of Christmas wasn't on today's schedule. Exorcisms aren't my specialty."
I positioned myself between Tadpole and Santa, dramatically unsheathing my katanas.
"So, Fatty, what does Woodface want?" I asked, eyes fixed on him.
"He wants his true face," Santa whispered, gripping the hammer. "It's sealed in my Vault of Toys. I ripped it off in our final battle millennia ago to blind him to this world. If he recovers it, he'll be able to travel between Earth and Hell freely."
"I can understand the fear about the Chitauri and such, but I've been around the world for months and… the world isn't that bad," Legion said.
Santa looked at the ground, confused and worried.
"It shouldn't be possible… The balance hasn't collapsed to such a degree. Unless something… or someone… acted as an anchor on this side." Santa glanced sideways at me, then at the fissure. "But there's no time for questions. If he reaches the Vault, the world will know an eternal Christmas of blood!"
Krampus stepped forward, the snow beneath his goat hooves turning black.
"YOU!" the demon roared at the fat man. "I have spent millennia trapped in Hell, rotting, starving while you gorge yourself on cookies and the cheap faith of the world's children!"
Krampus lifted his claws toward the barrier.
"They belong to me… Their souls, their terror, their belief! Everything was stolen from me by your false kindness!" The orange fire in his eyes flared white. "But today it ends. Today I'll rip your magic from this land, and when I'm done with you… I'll wear your skin as my new Christmas coat!"
=============================================================
Krampus lunged blindly, hooves tearing into the frozen ground with each stride. But before the demon could reach the dome, a colossal red mass intercepted him head-on.
Four Arms stopped the demon's charge instantly. His four hands grabbed Krampus' shoulders and horns, muscles tightening like steel cables as his feet sank into the snow from the effort.
"Where do you think you're going?" Legion growled. "I'm not letting any demon loose on Earth, much less one that ruins Christmas."
Krampus let out a dry laugh, like breaking branches.
From the shadows at Legion's feet, hundreds of imps burst out. Like a swarm of locusts, they climbed the Tetramand's body, biting and stabbing his red flesh with tiny rusty tools.
Even though Four Arms' skin was hard as granite, the sheer number was overwhelming.
The alien roared in irritation, trying to shake them off while Krampus pushed harder.
However, before the demon could gain ground, Santa intervened. With agility that mocked his size, Santa planted his candy hammer in the snow for balance and spun it into Krampus' torso.
The impact was brutal, sending the demon flying back.
Krampus rolled in the snow and, when trying to stand, looked down. There, between his hooves, four blinking fragmentation grenades Deadpool had slipped onto him during the chaos.
"Surprise gift, firewood face!!" Deadpool yelled from the background, celebrating.
KABOOM!!!
The fourfold explosion engulfed Krampus in flames and shrapnel. Wade started dancing victoriously, spinning his pistols before holstering them.
Krampus slowly emerged from the smoke. His wooden mask was cracked, his fur smoking, but the orange fire in his eyes burned brighter. He looked at the factory, then Santa, then the Tetramand.
"MY FACE!" Krampus roared, ignoring injuries. "EVEN IF I MUST BURN EVERY GIFT AND EVERY SOUL, I WILL TAKE IT BACK!"
His orange eyes blazed painfully bright and, spreading his claws, he unleashed a colossal infernal blast.
The fire wasn't orange, but dark violet, slamming straight into Four Arms' chest. The Tetramand roared in pain as he was pushed back meters, carving trenches in ice while trying to shield himself.
Seeing an opportunity, Deadpool leaped from the side with katanas raised for the demon's neck.
"Cut! Take two and—"
He didn't finish.
With an almost imperceptible swipe of his free hand, Krampus slashed shadowy energy.
The air tore, and in a blink, the mercenary was sliced clean into three. His torso, legs, and head flew apart, staining the snow red.
Santa used the distraction. Dropping from the sky, he aimed his candy hammer at Krampus' head.
But the demon reacted unnaturally fast: he summoned his own iron spiked war hammer, clashing against Santa's. The magical shockwave shook the factory remains.
"I will never allow you to bring chaos to this world again, creature!" Santa roared, teeth clenched, arms trembling.
Krampus laughed like a burning forest cracking apart.
"The world doesn't need me for chaos to reign, Claus…" the demon growled inches from his face. "I only feed from it."
The wooden mask split, revealing an enormous demonic maw full of obsidian fangs.
Without warning, he exhaled ghostly fire straight at Santa.
The Fat Man reacted fast, releasing his hammer to summon a runic shield, but the flames were too strong. The shield shattered into light shards and the fire struck Santa, wounding him badly.
Krampus laughed gutturally, turning his back as he marched toward the factory dome.
However, a thunderous crash forced him to turn just in time to be smashed by a massive iceberg Four Arms had ripped from the ground and thrown.
The impact launched the demon far, crashing him into an outcrop.
Four Arms advanced painfully, breathing hard; a dark burn smoked on his chest, but all four eyes locked onto the enemy.
He approached Santa, helping him up while Deadpool jogged over, reattaching his freshly sewn-together limbs, which crackled as nerves finished reconnecting.
"Hey!" Wade exclaimed, testing his neck. "Who left the flamethrower on 'extreme'? I almost lost the noble parts, and those don't regenerate that fast!"
Santa stood with monumental effort, leaning on his hammer. His face pale, golden aura flickering.
"Only Christmas magic can hurt him," Santa rasped. "But I'm too weak… Maintaining the dome and that sneak attack drained me. My reserves are at their limit."
"There has to be a way, Santa, we can't give up," the Tetramand said firmly.
Santa looked at his hammer and suddenly, hope sparked in his eyes. A faint but brave "Ho, ho, ho!" escaped.
"Perhaps… there is a way," Santa said.
The old man extended his hands, tracing glowing runes into the frozen air.
With a blinding flash, the snow and sugar of the candy hammer transformed.
In Four Arms' hands appeared a colossal candy greatsword, so large it needed two of his arms to wield, its blade glowing pure white.
For Deadpool, Santa materialized two Christmas steel katanas, with holly handles and blades radiating warm sacred energy.
"These weapons are blessed with the very essence of Christmas," Santa declared, stepping back toward the entrance of the factory. "With them, you'll be able to wound his demonic core and defeat him. I must remain here… I need to keep the barrier up and save what little strength I have left to deliver the presents when the sun rises. If I fail… the seal will break forever."
Four Arms weighed the greatsword, feeling a strange power rush through his muscles.
Deadpool spun his new katanas, leaving trails of red and green sparks slicing the air.
Both nodded at the same time, placing themselves between the rising demon and the man who represented Christmas itself.
Krampus, recovered from the iceberg hit, roared with such hatred that the snow around him turned black.
He lunged forward like a storm of shadows, swinging his spiked iron hammer.
CLANG!
The initial clash was seismic. Legion blocked Krampus' hammer using the flat of the greatsword with his upper pair of arms, while with the lower pair he delivered a double punch to the demon's stomach. Krampus howled in pain but retaliated with a fierce headbutt from his horns, forcing the Tetramand back.
"Your courage is as expired as your holidays!" the demon roared.
"Well my subscriptions to adult magazines last all year, idiot!" Deadpool yelled.
Wade flipped acrobatically over Legion, landing on Krampus' shoulders.
He began stabbing wildly at the point where mask and neck met. The blessed steel sparked white with every strike, burning demon flesh like molten iron.
Krampus screamed and thrashed, grabbing Wade by the leg and hurling him against a rock so hard the sound of breaking bones echoed through the valley.
"I'm still alive! I just need a minute to rebuild my rib Lego set!" Deadpool shouted from the snow, writhing while his healing factor kicked into overdrive.
Four Arms wasn't falling behind.
Roaring, he lifted the greatsword and struck downward. Krampus blocked with the hammer shaft, but the blessed candy blade sliced part of the dark metal off.
The demon answered with a brutal kick from his hooves, sending Legion flying, then exhaled a stream of ghostly flame.
Legion rolled through the snow and quickly stood back up, using the greatsword as a shield while the flames licked the air.
"You cannot win!" Krampus roared, summoning chains that whipped around like furious serpents. "This world is mine by right of fear!"
"The only thing I fear is chimichangas running out before we finish you!" Deadpool shot back, suddenly appearing again and slashing at the demon's heels.
The battle devolved into a storm of chaos, light, and shadow.
The Tetramand struck with heavy blows that forced Krampus backward, while Wade darted around like a hyperactive mosquito, taking hits that would kill anyone else only to rise seconds later with a new joke and a deeper cut in the demon's flesh.
Krampus was being completely overwhelmed.
The colossal candy greatsword in Four Arms' hands was devastating; Legion wielded it with his upper pair of arms, tracing arcs of white light that split both air and flesh. With his lower arms, he seized Krampus' forearm, limiting the demon's ability to swing the iron hammer.
"Feel the weight of Christmas!" Legion roared, unleashing a downward strike Krampus barely deflected, losing a chunk of his bone shoulder plate.
Deadpool, taking advantage of Legion's raw power keeping Krampus occupied, moved like a red blur beneath the demon's legs, carving tendons and setting up traps with his own body.
At one point, Krampus managed to slam Wade into the ground, but the mercenary, with his left arm dangling useless and several bones shattered, simply spat blood and charged again.
"I love this game!" Deadpool shouted, plunging a katana into Krampus' side. "It's like a piñata, but with more screaming and fewer candies!"
The exchange was brutal. Four Arms roared and smashed the flat of the greatsword against Krampus' mask, cracking it.
Realizing his endurance was reaching its limit and the blessed steel burned him, Krampus stomped desperately, raising a column of black ice to push them back.
Panting, bleeding black sludge from countless wounds, Krampus summoned an obsidian shield. A sphere of solid shadow wrapped around him, blocking all attacks.
"It's useless!" he mocked from inside, voice distorted. "The old man's magic is nearly gone, and once my minions retrieve my face, no one will stop me!"
Legion didn't back down.
He planted himself before the shield and began hammering it with the candy greatsword. Each blow flashed gold and shook the barrier. Wade stood beside him, desperately searching for a weakness.
"We have to break it before Santa weakens any more!" Legion shouted, channeling all his strength into another strike.
Deadpool, realizing frontal attacks wouldn't cut it, pressed himself against the dark surface and locked eyes with Krampus.
"Hey, nightmare teddy bear," Wade taunted. "Wanna see a magic trick?"
Krampus frowned behind his cracked mask.
He didn't understand what the red lunatic meant, until suddenly, pain hit him in the most humiliating way imaginable.
A severed Wade hand, forgotten somewhere in the snow earlier in the fight, had crawled through the battlefield… and was now squeezing his demonic family jewels with brutal determination.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!!!" Krampus shrieked in pure agony.
His concentration shattered. The obsidian shield flickered and split with massive cracks.
"NOW!!!" Deadpool screamed.
Legion roared, lifting the greatsword with all four arms for a final blow, while Wade spun like a living blender with his blessed katanas.
CRACK!
The greatsword tore through the shadow shield like paper and plunged deep into Krampus' chest. At the same time, Deadpool, spinning on his axis, crossed both katanas across the demon's neck.
Time seemed to freeze.
A pure white light, the very heart of Christmas magic, burst from Krampus' wounds, devouring the darkness that made up his body. The demon released one final scream before exploding.
"THIS... IS NOT... OVER!" the creature managed to roar before exploding.
BOOM!
Krampus dissolved into a colossal cloud of dense black smoke.
As if a magnet activated deep within the abyss, the smoke was violently dragged toward the dimensional rift in the ground.
The suction was so strong that the hundreds of imps besieging the factory dome lost form, turning into shadow and being torn back into Hell.
With a deafening metallic thunder that echoed across the Arctic, the rift slammed shut, sealed by sacred ice that Santa reinforced with one last gesture.
Legion collapsed to his knees, dropping the greatsword just as the Omnitrix beeped and returned him to human form. Beside him, Deadpool fell into the snow, staring at the sky as his regenerated hand finally reunited with its arm.
"Well…" Wade panted, letting out a tired giggle. "That was way more effective than a stocking full of coal."
Santa Claus, standing at the entrance of his workshop, sighed with a relief that seemed to lift a thousand years off his shoulders.
Christmas was saved.
Santa walked toward the heroes, each heavy boot sinking into the now-clean snow.
The golden aura around him shone stronger than ever. He stopped in front of them and, with a look full of gratitude, extended his hands.
"Thank you, my young friends," Santa said warmly. "Christmas is safe thanks to your courage. You not only protected my workshop, but the hope of millions across the world."
Legion, still catching his breath after returning to human form, brushed snow off his clothes and shrugged
"No need to thank us, Santa. It was an honor to help, especially when it's you," he replied with a sincere smile.
Deadpool, overcome with pure emotion, couldn't hold back. He lunged at the old man and gave him a bear hug so strong it nearly crushed him.
"I'm so sorry, Big Guy!" Wade cried, voice cracking behind the mask. "Sorry about the list, the chimichangas I stole back in '98, and for trying to sue you for not bringing what I asked for! I was an idiot!"
Santa laughed, that deep warm laugh spreading like a blanket.
"Ho, ho, ho!"
He returned the hug with gentle pats.
"It's alright, Wade," Santa said kindly. "Perhaps this experience taught you something important. Owning your mistakes is the first step to redemption. And for that… I have something for you."
Wade pulled back, tilting his head in confusion.
"For me? A forgiveness-shaped lump of coal?"
"Not exactly," Santa smiled, pointing toward the great wooden doors of the workshop as they slowly opened.
From the dimness of the workshop, a shiny bicycle moved forward toward them on its own. It was exactly the one Wade had wanted so much since he was a child: with vibrant colors, a perfect little basket, and that brand-new toy glow that only North Pole magic can give.
"NO… FREAKING… WAY!!!" Deadpool screamed with pure childlike excitement "It's the red 85 Schwinn! The one with the perfect handlebars and the whitewall tires! Santa, I swore you'd blacklisted me for life after what I did to that mall!"
He threw himself at it like it was a sacred treasure. He caressed the metal frame, checking that it didn't have a single scratch, and mounted it with such enthusiasm that he almost fell backward out of sheer emotion.
"Look at me! I'm like Elliott in E.T.! I've got a legit Schwinn, baby!" he shouted while he began pedaling like a maniac across the snowy clearing, ringing the bell with a perfect metallic chime and skidding over the ice while the streamers (that he swore were there) waved gloriously in his imagination.
Santa watched the scene with a paternal smile, seeing how the mercenary turned into a child in a matter of seconds.
"They owed you this a long time ago, Wade," Santa said calmly "A fair reward for defending the essence of this night."
Legion watched Wade riding around and around, doing wheelies in the snow with the vintage bicycle.
He didn't really know what to think; he just wanted to have lunch while looking at the North Pole, and somehow he ended up fighting Krampus alongside Santa Claus and Deadpool… Truly, Christmas had very strange ways of surprising you.
Santa turned toward Legion, who was watching Wade's tricks on his new bicycle with a mixture of amusement and exhaustion.
The man in red conjured a red wool scarf, woven with an intricate pattern that seemed to faintly glow with its own light.
"For you, young hero," Santa said, extending it with both hands "It's a small gift, but it carries eternal warmth. I deeply admire what you've been doing; I've been watching you all this time. It makes me happy to know that, in a world that sometimes feels so dark, there is someone else bringing hope to others."
Legion, surprised by the solemnity of the moment, accepted the gift with a respectful smile.
When he wrapped it around his neck, he felt a comforting warmth that not only erased the Arctic cold, but also seemed to slightly ease his worries.
"Thank you, Santa," Legion replied sincerely "It means a lot coming from you."
Santa looked straight into his eyes for a moment, with an expression of infinite wisdom.
"You know…" the old man continued softly "there's something that has always made me curious. I don't know exactly what happened to you, but some time ago, from one moment to the next, you stopped being a child. I don't know the hidden reason, maybe it has something to do with that strange watch you wear on your wrist… but I want to tell you that I'm glad you came back."
Legion froze for a second.
Astonishment reflected on his face as he realized that Santa, somehow, had perceived the change in his existence.
After a brief silence, Legion nodded slowly.
"It's been hard, but… I had to do it," Legion murmured "The world doesn't wait for us to be ready."
Santa gave him an affectionate pat on the shoulder, acknowledging the sacrifice that comes with protecting others.
Santa clapped his hands loudly, the sound echoing like joyful thunder throughout the valley.
Instantly, the great factory doors opened wide and hundreds of elves came out in a magical display of efficiency. Some ran toward the stables to prepare the reindeer; Deadpool, upon seeing them, got off his Schwinn and ran to pet them with the tenderness of a child, letting the animals sniff his mask.
Other elves brought a brand-new, gleaming suit for Santa, who within minutes was once again wearing his iconic red coat, immaculate and majestic.
The sleigh, a masterpiece of carved wood and gold, was placed on the ice runway, with a toy bag in the back so immense it seemed to defy the laws of physics. Meanwhile, the rest of the elves worked at full speed, cleaning up the remains of the battle as if nothing had happened.
Santa climbed into the sleigh, grabbed the reins, then stopped. He looked at the two heroes watching him from the snow and gave a knowing smile.
"You know… I have a long way to go and time is short. Maybe I'll need a little extra help this year," Santa said, winking at them.
Legion and Deadpool exchanged a quick glance.
Wade, overflowing with joy, didn't hesitate even a second; he performed an acrobatic jump and landed in the back seat of the sleigh, hugging his 85 Schwinn against his chest.
Legion, although he shook his head at his partner's madness, couldn't hide his smile. He adjusted the red scarf Santa had given him and calmly climbed up beside old Saint Nicholas.
"Are you sure we'll make it everywhere in time?" Legion asked, looking at the watch on his wrist and then at the vast horizon.
Santa adjusted the reins and looked at him with bright eyes.
"If you believe enough, nothing is impossible with the magic of Christmas," Santa replied.
With a gentle movement of the reins and a shout of encouragement, the reindeer began to run.
Their hooves struck the ice rhythmically until, with a burst of magic, the sleigh lifted into the air. The three of them flew over the snowy Arctic landscape, rising toward the full moon while Santa's laughter filled the night sky.
"HO, HO, HO!!! MEEERRRY CHRIIISTMAAAS TO EEEEVERYONE!!!" Santa shouted, while Deadpool rang the bell of his bicycle from above and Legion shook some jingle bells with holiday rhythm.
============================================================
SOOO HOW'S IT GOIN, GUYS, MERRYY CHRISTMAS… FOR THOSE WHO HAVE CHRISTMAS IN THEIR COUNTRY… AND FOR THOSE WHO DON'T TOO, WHY NOT
12,450 WORDS… I WENT WAY, WAY OVER, BUT I THINK IT'S THE RIGHT THING FOR A "SPECIAL," AND I'M NOT EVEN COUNTING THE DRAFTS, BUT WELL, I DID WHAT I COULD AND PUT MY HEART INTO IT, I HOPE YOU LIKED IT AND THAT IT ENTERTAINED YOU
I WISH YOU A GREAT CHRISTMAS, SURROUNDED BY THE PEOPLE YOU LOVE AND WITH DELICIOUS FOOD AND LIKE THE BIG GUY SAID
MERRY CHRISTMAS 🎄
==================================================================
At the top of a monolithic skyscraper, in an office drowned in near–total darkness, Gustav Silbe stood before the massive reinforced glass window.
His hands were clasped behind his back and his eyes, cold as steel, followed the golden trail that the sleigh left across the night sky.
Without turning, he spoke to the darkness that dwelled in the corner of the room:
"Did you get it?"
From the shadows emerged a hooded figure, whose breathing was heavy and metallic. The trail of snow and blood on their boots betrayed that they had come straight from the North Pole. The figure knelt, bowing their head with a mixture of respect and fear.
"We lost eighty individuals in the lower levels, sir," the shadow reported in a hoarse voice "The magical traps in the vault were… far deadlier than anticipated. But we managed to take it before the elves discovered us."
The figure extended a gloved hand. Resting in it was an ancient, crude, dark object. Suddenly, the object rose into the air, levitating by an invisible force until it hovered at Gustav's eye level.
Slowly, a pulse began to emanate from the heart of the stone. A faint glow at first, which quickly turned into an intense, blood-red light, rhythmic like the beat of an ancient and malevolent heart.
The glow illuminated Silbe's face, revealing a twisted smile
Gustav extended a finger, almost brushing the vibrating surface of the gem.
"The Blood Stone…"
Outside, Christmas carried on for the rest of the world, but in that dark room, the real danger had only just awakened.