Chapter 32
NEO
Ice jingles forward, reaching for the candy shop door without hesitation. The old wood groans as he pushes it open, the bell above the frame giving a shrill and unnatural ring that echoes down the street. He doesn’t knock, doesn’t pause—he swings it wide open, acting like a king returning to his throne. Like he owns the damn place.
Nox and I step into the shop. The shop is transformed into a wonderland of cheer, replacing the usual slimy purple-orange and green-black jars full of sweets. Brightly wrapped gifts are spilled across the counter, nestled between stacks of boxes full of candy canes and chocolate. Ribbons curl like sugar spirals, ornaments dangling from shelves where lollipops once stood. Even the air smells different—less like caramel and more like pine. Everywhere I look presents gleam in gold, red, and green, as if the entire shop has been swallowed by the holiday season itself. WHAT. THE. FUCK.
Zilla pops up from behind a tower of glittering boxes, brushing a strand of tinsel out of her hair.
"Finally! You two made it," she says, waving us inside as if this chaos is perfectly normal. "Don’t mind the mess… at least if you count an avalanche of Christmas gifts as a mess."
I raise an eyebrow. "Mess? It looks like Santa sneezed in here."
Zilla laughs, though her eyes dart nervously to a stack of presents that just pops into existence. "Yeah… about that. They just started appearing out of nowhere. One minute I am yelling at the elf, the next—bam! Wrapping paper, bows and boxes everywhere. It hasn’t stopped since."
As if on cue, a small package shimmers into being right between my feet. I yelp and jump back, Nox kicking it away like it's a ball.
"See?" Zilla says, throwing her hands up. "It’s like the shop’s possessed by Christmas spirit."
The elf brushes glitter off his sleeve and mutters, "Not my fault. The gifts just keep multiplying. I’m doing my best."
Nox’s jaw tightens, and he moves before anyone else can react. He’s in front of the elf in two strides, his hands fisting the front of his coat and yanking him up. "Your best?"
Ice flinches, holding up his hands. "Hey, hey, don’t yell at me! I’m just the delivery guy…"
"Delivery guy?" Nox snaps. "Then deliver them somewhere else!"
Zilla tries to intervene, waving her hands. "Okay, okay, let’s all breathe..."
But Nox’s glare stays locked on the elf. "Fix it. Now. Or the next thing wrapped up in a bow will be you. And I’ll make sure you feel every knot."
The elf’s eyes flicker, not with fear, but with something stranger. The elf straightens under Nox’s hands.
"You think I can fix this?" Ice says, voice low but steady. "These gifts aren’t mine to control." The elf straightens under Nox’s hands, his glitter-dusted sleeves catching the glow of the shop lights. His voice, usually quick and muttering, now rings with a solemn weight that silences the room. "You don’t understand," he says, his eyes sweeping across all of us. "There is no shortcut, no spell, no trick to undo this. The gifts have to be delivered." He gestures towards the towers of boxes, ribbons curling likerestless serpents. "Leave even one behind, and the magic will unravel. The shop will drown, the streets will choke, and the season itself will collapse under the weight of unkept promises."
His words hang heavy in the air, like frost settling on glass. The elf’s gaze hardens, no longer pleading but commanding. "By completing the deliveries, you’ll have the perfect holiday."
Nox clenches his fists on the elf’s coat, his jaw tight. "You’re joking. There are hundreds already. Maybe thousands. You expect me to play delivery boy until dawn?" His glare burns into the elf, but beneath it is a flicker of reluctant understanding.
Zilla raises her hands, half-laughing and half-panicked. "This is insane. But… if the alternative is drowning in wrapping paper, I guess I’d rather freeze my toes off than suffocate under bows."
I feel the weight of the elf’s words settle like snow on my shoulders. The map on my arm pulses faintly, as if agreeing with him. "No…" My voice cuts through the chaos, sharp and commanding. I turn to Zilla, her eyes narrowing. "You’re the one who’ll sort the gifts. Line them up by street and order them from the lowest to the highest house number. Make sense of this madness."
Zilla smiles, knowing she is the best person for this job. The snowman suddenly pops up from behind a stack of boxes, bits of ribbon clinging to his frosty shoulders. He gives her a cheerful wave, his coal-black grin wide. "He’ll help you," I add, as if the sight of a living snowman is the most ordinary thing in the world.
I step forward, the glow of the map on my arm pulsing faintly as if urging us on. "Nox, Ice… we’re going together. We’ll deliver the gifts side by side."
Nox’s glare flicks from me to the elf, his jaw tightening. "Together? With him?"
The elf bristles. "I don’t exactly relish the idea either."
"I have the map, Nox is the new Santa, and you are going to tell us how to deliver them."
Ice mutters under his breath, "Guess we’re officially Santa’s dysfunctional squad."
Nox releases his grip, shoving the elf back."This isn’t over."
Chapter 33
