By Travis Hiltz
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Once upon a time, a rocket ship traveled from a dying world, taking one tiny occupant to the safety of a little blue-green planet called Earth.
Due to the gravitational shockwaves of Krypton’s death throes, the rocket was knocked a few degrees off course, landing not at its intended destination, but instead crashing at Earth’s north pole. |
Blissfully unaware, the baby slept, as instead of a kindly, older couple, his craft was approached by a half-dozen diminutive figures, armed with various toy-making tools…
Years passed, and a legend grew…
Metropolis, three days before Christmas and any business even remotely connected to the toy industry was working overtime.
The Swan toy warehouse was no exception; an endless parade of workers and delivery trucks flowed through and all around the building.
Once inside, two figures in coveralls and caps separated from the main group and ducked behind a pile of crates.
“I don’t know, Miss Lane,” Aspiring news photographer Jimmy Olsen said, anxiously. “Mr. White said…”
“I know what Perry said,” Lois Lane interrupted. “He wants us to cover the mayor’s holiday charity gala and much as I’d rather be showing off my new dress while being offered free champagne, these robberies this close to Christmas are the story we’re going after.”
“Aren’t you a little old to be believing in Santa…?” Jimmy muttered.
“What’s that?” Lois asked, sharply.
“Um…I…well, everyone knows how you get around Christmas,” Jimmy stammered. “You know…kind of…obsessed with that Christmas Spirit guy…”
“Okay, yes, I seem to be the only one trying to make sense of a guy in red, that shows up in Metropolis every Christmas,” Lois grumbled. “But, he’s not Santa! Other people have seen him. He moves across the rooftops like he could leap a tall building in a single bound…!”
“Okay, okay, I believe you!” Jimmy whispered, trying to get his co-worker to talk quieter, as he remembered they were trying to avoid attention. “How come you think he or the toy thieves are going to hit this place…?”
“The companies that have been robbed,” Lois explained. “Whether they were offices or warehouses were all in this general area of town. The thieves, for some reason, are all hitting areas, west of Kupperberg Boulevard and just before the waterfront.”
“Doesn’t Luthor Corp have some big project going on around here?” Jimmy asked thoughtfully.
“Jimmy, Lex owns half the city, he has a big project going on every ten feet. For once, he might not actually be involved in something shady, which is a Christmas miracle all on its own. Come on, while everyone is working on loading those trucks, I want to take a look around.”
“Yeah, okay.” Jimmy shrugged, looking around, nervously. “Did you hear something? Scratching noise…man, I hope there aren’t rats…!”
Two buildings over, a figure stood on a nearby rooftop.
He too was concerned that the toy warehouse might be the target of a criminal gang.
Enhanced vision allowed him to keep watch over the entire area, giving him the chance to sort out who was bad or good. He stroked his trimmed beard thoughtfully, while the chill winter breeze caused his fur-trimmed, red coat to flutter about like a cape.
“I don’t like this,” He muttered. “Too many people.”
At the sound of footsteps, crunching lightly in the new fallen snow, he turned. The new arrivals would have caused anyone else to gape in amazement, but to the bearded man, they were a welcome sight.
One was a snow-white reindeer, wearing a golden collar to which was attached a red cape.
Walking along next to him was a short, elfin figure, clad in an orange, knee-length tunic with purple boots, gloves and belt. A purple derby was perched upon his domed head.
The bearded man nodded a greeting.
“Comet, Myx, anything?”
“Nope,” The small figure replied. “Not a peep.”
“Then I guess the good news is, this one must be his target,” He said.
The smaller man pushed back his derby to scratch his head in thought.
“I don’t like this,” Myx pondered.
“I don’t either, it’s too busy. Too many people to have to keep safe.”
“Hard to stay a ‘legend’ if you rush into a huge crowd,” His elfin helper commented. “I smell a trap.”
“Well, if it was easy, it wouldn’t be any fun.” The bearded man smirked, before taking a running leap and bridging the distance between the two buildings in a single bound.
He skidded to a halt on roof of the Swan’s building.
After taking a moment to ensure he hadn’t been spotted, the man in red made his way to a skylight. Using a gloved hand, he wiped away the grime.
It was like looking down upon an anthill, workers swarming all around, dodging around mini-forklifts and trucks.
He soon spotted two figures that seemed intent on keeping away from the rest of the workers.
“Now, I wonder what you two are up to…?” He mused, as he began to fiddle with the skylight’s lock.
“Look, Miss Lane, I think we might want to get outta here,” Jimmy suggested, worriedly. “That guy is definitely going to call security…”
“Jimmy, relax. We can lose him easily in this place, it’s a maze.” Lois said, absently as she compared the labels on some creates to something scribbled in her notebook.
“Maybe, but that also means we can get lost too. Doubt I could find my way out…” Jimmy muttered.
“Come here!” Lois hissed, grabbing his collar and pulling him into a narrow gap between towers of crates.
The two reporters squeezed in seconds before a couple security guards marched by.
“Yikes…!” Jimmy breathed. “That was close.”
“Look at this!” Lois said, in an excited tone.
“Look at what, Miss Lane?” Jimmy asked, struggling to move in the narrow gap, convinced he heard another rat.
‘This label.” She replied, “It looks like the others, but the printing’s off…I think it’s either been altered or it’s a fake…!”
“Forged label?” Jimmy asked, forgetting his anxiety when presented with a clue. “Are the toys inside fakes too?”
“Or not toys at all,” Lois suggested, checking a few of the other crates. She found three others with suspect labels. She fished a box cutter out of her coverall pockets and a mini-pry bar from another, and then went to work on one of the crates.
“You think someone is using the toy company for smuggling?” Jimmy mused. “That’s pretty crummy.”
“Here, help me.” Lois said.
She and Jimmy moved one of the smaller crates to a small, open space and once it was on the floor, pried the lid off.
“Hey!” Jimmy exclaimed. “It’s…uh…full of toys…?”
Pushing aside the packing material revealed several dozen, toy robots. They had barrel chests and thin arms that ended in pincer hands. Their heads were blunt, bullet shapes with a single, plastic, rectangular eye.
There was a clicking noise and the green eyes on all three-dozen robots lit up and as one they raised their heads to peer up at the two reporters.
“Oh jeez…!” Jimmy gulped.
The skylight over their heads shattered and a figure in red leapt down.
He was clad all in red, boots, gloves pants, and hooded long coat, trimmed with white fur.
The only other bits of color were a broad yellow belt, and a yellow symbol containing a stylized ‘S on his chest’.
His hair and short-trimmed beard were both midnight black.
He landed in between the two reporters and the box of menacing toys just as all the robots fired a laser beam from their single eye. The cascade of lasers struck the bearded man full in the chest. He swatted away a few of the stray green beams.
He grabbed the crate lid and slammed it down on the malicious toys before dropping to one knee, wincing.
“Ow…!” He muttered. “That…hurt…hnn…not used to that.”
“Omigod!” Lois exclaimed, moving to helping him. “It’s you!”
“Uh-huh,” The bearded man nodded, getting unsteadily to his feet.
“You’re real!” Lois continued.
There was a “pop!” and Myx appeared by the man in red’s side, helping to steady him.
“Boy, she’s going to be a big help,” The imp muttered.
“Who are you?” Lois asked.
“I’m Myxzlpkt,” The imp replied.
“Think she means me,” The man in red explained, straightening up. “I am Kal-el of the house of Kringle.”
“You saved us!” Jimmy said, wide-eyed. “You jumped through that skylight and got…zapped…by lasers and there isn’t a scratch on you! You’re…Super Claus!”
Myx sighed and rolled his eyes.
“Okay, Jimmy,” Lois said. “You’ve been through a lot, maybe go sit over there, catch your breath…”
“You okay?” Myx asked Kal-el.
“Been better.” The man in red said, grimly.
The elfin being crossed his thin arms and gave the bigger man a stern look.
“Okay, it might be a trap,” Kal-El muttered.
“You guys want to share?” Lois asked. “You seem to know what’s going on here.”
“It’s…uh…complicated.” He replied. “But, we were tracking the toy thefts and they…might, possibly have been to lure me here.”
“Are you sure?” The lady reporter asked. “Cause I’ve been after a smuggling ring…”
Several of the wooden crates burst and dozens of the menacing toy robots came trudging out, firing green energy blasts.
“Myx, get Comet and clear the workers out of here!” Kal-El shouted, scooping up Lois and Jimmy.
With green beams striking his back, the Santa of steel, carried the two reporters up and over a tower of crates with a leap.
He stumbled upon landing and released his two passengers, propelling them along, so he could pivot and face the handful of toy robots that had caught up to them.
He stomped on one, and then with a blast of super breath sent the others tumbling away.
He then peered around him intently, focusing on three smaller trucks. They looked a bit more old fashioned and each had a yellow and maroon color scheme.
“Winslow!” Kal-El shouted. “I know you’re here! Come out! No one else has to get hurt!”
He pushed over a pile of crates to create a makeshift barrier between himself and the tiny robot attackers and moved into a clearing in the massive warehouse.
One of the quaint, little trucks rolled forward. Its cab opened like a jack in the box and a comical figure stood on the elevated drivers’ seat and took a bow.
He was a short, pudgy man, with a bulbous nose, a receding hairline, his brown hair swept back to touch his collar. He peered over his half moon glasses, showing pale blue eyes full of malicious glee.
His suit was old fashioned and patterned in vertical, alternating blue and maroon stripes.
He was an odd mixture of kindly old uncle and mad scientist.
“Of course, I’m here!” He chuckled. “No fun playing with toys from a distance, doncha’ know!”
“It doesn’t have to be this way, Winslow.” The bearded hero said, struggling to keep track of the maniacal toymaker, the two reporters he was trying to protect, the approaching army of robots and how the evacuation was proceeding.
“It does, actually,” Winslow glowered. “It truly does. I was the greatest toymaker this world has ever seen! Then you had to come along, with your…magic! You cheated! You took it away from me!”
“There’s more then enough children in the world that need toys,” Kal-El told him, eagerly hoping to get through to the other man. “You are a brilliant toymaker, together…”
“No!” Winslow interrupted, stamping his foot. “You are a fraud! A cheater! An invader trying to buy acceptance!”
He scowled and waggled a finger at the man in red.
“There will be no ‘together’! There will be only one Toyman!” The little man ranted. “I’ve learned my lesson! I found myself a helper!”
“Luthor is not your ‘helper’, Winslow. He is not your friend,” Kal-El said, placatingly.
“No, no,” Toyman chuckled. “That bald rapscallion is on my naughty list. Meet my newest friend!”
He pulled a clunky, plastic device out of his coat and dramatically flicked a small lever.
The other two trucks opened like large, metal flowers. One released a second army of robots, who trundled alone, soon surrounding Kal-El and his two new friends.
The other opened reveal a massive, metal skull the size of a sports car.
Its eyes lit up, emerald green.
“Greetings, Kal of the house of El,” It intoned, in a grating, metallic voice. “I come to bring you your birthright and put you on the path to your true destiny.”
“What?” Kal-El asked, wide-eyed. “I don’t…who are you…?”
“I am Brainiac, keeper of all knowledge of the planet Krypton.” The massive head stated. “And you, are its last son.”
“Krypton…?” The man in red gasped. “No…I’m…!”
“Guided by my vast library of knowledge,” Brainiac continued. “You will take your rightful role, and together we can guide this race, these primitive humans to a greater destiny then they could ever accomplish left to their own devices.”
“Can’t say I like the sound of that,” Lois muttered.
“Me neither,” Kal-El said. “Look, I really have no idea what you are talking about. Maybe what you say is true, and I did come from this…uh…Krypton, but I’m happy with my life as it is and really don’t have any interest in ruling…uh…well, anybody. Sorry.”
“You deny your birthright?” Brainiac asked, surprise coming through, even in his tinny monotone.
“Yeah, I do. Again, I’m sorry,” Kal-El nodded. “Though, if you can teach me about my heritage…”
“If you chose to ignore your destiny then you are of no use to me,” Brainiac stated.
“Um…what?” Kal-El asked.
“Once you have been subdued,” Brainiac said, seeming to be talking more to himself then the others. “As the sole remaining member of your species, you will be a valuable addition to my vast catalog of the races of the cosmos.”
“I definitely don’t like that part,” Kal-El said, grimly.
He leapt at the giant head, only to be cut down in mid-air by a barrage of energy beams fired by the multitude of toy robots.
Kal-El fell to the ground, as the robots continued to blast him.
They encircled the man in red, pinning him to the concrete.
“You going to help, or just watch those things kill him?” Myx asked, ‘poofing’ back to Lois and Jimmy. “Do I have to do everything?”
Tsk-tsking the humans, the imp flexed his fingers, sending a stream of sparkling other-dimensional energy at a stack of crates, sending it toppling over, crushing a dozen of the enemy toys.
Taking the hint, Lois grabbed Jimmy and the two pushed over a stack as well.
Shielded from the robots’ blasts, Kal-El got unsteadily to his feet.
“Enough is enough,” He grunted.
He leapt again, zooming at Brainiac and striking the massive head with both fists.
Brainiac toppled from his perch, crashing to the concrete floor, his eyes flickering.
“What…?” Toy man shouted. “Noooo…!!!”
Landing on the truck cab, Kal-El immediately leapt again, this time grabbing Winslow by the collar of his colorful coat.
As he flew back to join his friends, Kal-El shook the evil toymaker, sending a collection of weaponized toys and gadgets cascading from his pockets.
The man in red landed by Lois and Jimmy, holding Winslow, so the Toyman’s feet didn’t touch the floor.
“I hate you,” Winslow grumbled, crossing his arms, peevishly.
“Was all that true?” Lois asked. “What the big…robot head thing said? You’re from another planet?”
“It…uh… would seem so,” Kal-El shrugged. “I thought my abilities came from the magical energies I’d been exposed to as a child, but if Brainiac is to be believed…”
“Um…Miss Lane, Mr. Kringle…!” Jimmy interrupted, uneasily. “What’s going on?”
They looked to where he was pointing, seeing a parade of the toy robots marching towards Brainiac’s fallen head. As they reached it, they first righted it and then they came apart. The pieces began to form a structure, a scaffold to support the massive head.
“That…uh…that’s bad,” Lois said. “Please tell me you’re getting pictures, Jimmy.”
“Now, you’ll learn who’s the greatest toy maker!” Winslow crowed.
Kal-El frowned, hung the Toyman on a nearby metal pillar and turned back to face Brainiac.
The structure was obviously a skeleton and now that it was complete, the robots were turning themselves into a covering and soon the giant form was covered in metallic scales.
Brainiacs’ eyes began flickering, alternating between red and green, finally settling on a solid blood red light.
“If you are going to be difficult,” Brainiac intoned, rising up, until his massive cranium scrapped the ceiling. “Then all I truly need is a DNA sample, a few scrapings of cells taken from your corpse.”
“What kind of world was I born on, that created something like you?” Kal-El said, fists clenched.
“Oooooh, this is going to be fun!” Winslow announced, from where he was dangling.
The giant composite robot lurched forward, slapping down at Kal-El. The bearded hero caught the massive hand in both of his. He struggled for several moments and then, muscles trembling with the effort, pushed the hand away.
Kal-El immediately launched himself, punching Brainiac in the chest, sending tiny robot parts flying.
As soon as the parts hit the floor they immediately began to make their way back to join their brethren on Brainiacs’ body.
“No you don’t!” Lois announced, stomping on a couple of the moving parts with her booted feet. “Jimmy, help!”
The two reporters stomped on robot parts, while Kal-El concentrated on the larger construct.
With every punch, a handful of toy parts were knocked loose, but he and his friends were unable to take out more then a small fraction of the scrambling robot parts.
Myx sat, perched on a tower of crates, chin on fist, brow furrowed in thought.
“Our boy is tough,” He muttered to himself. “But, I don’t think this is something we can fix by punching…?”
The imp began pacing, occasionally stepping off the edge of the crates and walking in air.
“It’s just a big machine, but despite Kal’s origins, he isn’t a scientist. He’s a…waitaminute!!”
He smiled and snapped his fingers. He poofed away, reappearing above the bearded hero’s shoulder.
“This isn’t working,” He told Kal-El.
“Thanks, hadn’t noticed,” The man in red grunted, dodging green energy beams and colossal fists.
“That thing may be a piece of where you came from,” Myx said, resting a small hand on his friend’s broad shoulder. “But it is not who you are.”
Kal-El turned and looked at the magical imp and gave him a knowing smile.
He flew up until he and Brainiac were eye to eye.
“I didn’t want it to be this way,” He told the enormous automaton. “I would’ve been willing to learn about where I came from, the good and the bad, but you thought you could force me. Maybe my people…my parents…wanted me to rule over the Earth or maybe they just wanted me to watch over it. Doesn’t really matter. What does is what I have become. I watch over the children of this world and I work to keep them safe and give them the gift of playthings and you are nothing but a big toy!”
He brought his hands together in a clap like thunder. It toppled crates, and sent the few remaining people in the warehouse stumbling back.
More importantly, it shattered Brainiac’s composite body, leaving the massive head with just a skeleton framework to support him.
With a knowing eye, Kal-El sent blasts of heat vision at specific joints and support points.
The giant machine staggered, its body trembling, as it struggled to support the huge cranium.
“I grew up in the coldest, harshest environment this world has to offer,” Kal-El continued. “My playmates were ice, snow and the cold north wind!”
He puffed up his cheeks and blew and torrent of freezing cold air that coated Brainiac’s body with ice and rendered it immobile.
“No…no…no…” The robot intoned, its systems struggling with both the cold as well as its failing systems.” You…of house of El.. Son of my creator, you…you…you…muzzzzzzt…!”
“You are not going to tell me what to do,” Kal-El said, flying over, until his face and that of Brainiac were inches apart. “You’re the toy. I’m the toymaker. You need to go back to the workshop. You are broken.”
He swooped up and came down, both fists clenched together, on top of Brainiacs’ giant cranium.
The blow drove the head down, crashing through its composite body, to strike the warehouse floor hard enough to crack the concrete.
Its eyes flickered, going from red, back to green. Then one went out.
“Son of Kry…Krypton…”
“No,” The bearded man sad, with a sad shake of his head. “I’m not. Earth is my home, the Kringles are my house.”
With a groan of machinery shutting down and power fading, the remaining eye winked out.
“You did it!” Lois exclaimed, racing over to join him.
“Golly, Mr. Kringle…!” Jimmy added, looking around the surreal battlefield.
“No! It’s not fair!” Toy man wailed, kicking his feet in the air and struggling, unsuccessfully, to get loose.
“Guess I did.” Kal-El said, looking thoughtfully at the massive robot head and all the destruction around him.
“What happens now?” Lois asked.
“Lots of work to be done,” The man in red replied. “Need to clean this up, figure out what to do with that…”
He pointed at the dormant Brainiac.
“And then, I have a lot of thinking to do.”
He sighed and shrugged.
Raised by creatures of magic and legend, only to find he wasn’t even a product of this world, but some lost planet. If Brainiac was telling the truth, and he was a creation of that world, what did it say about those people? His people?
He looked up, a thoughtful frown on his handsome face, as he caught a glimpse of Myx.
His magical mentor floated nearby, looking pensive at Kal-El.
He gave the imp a wink and then turned to face the two reporters.
“I’m sorry we couldn’t have met under nicer circumstances, Miss Lane,” He said. “And I hate to run off, but, lots to do and this mess means, I’m going to need to put in some extra work. I’m on a deadline. Three days till Christmas!”
He gave a sharp whistle and the white reindeer came soaring in through the broken skylight. Kal-El gave it a scratch under the chin.
“Time to go home,”
The man in read hefted the huge metal head onto one shoulder, glanced over his shoulder, giving Jimmy’s camera a quick burst of X-ray vision to ensure there were no pictures of him, while Myx bound the Toyman’s hands and slung him over the reindeer’s back.
“That everything?” Kal-El asked.
“No, it isn’t!” Lois Lane snapped, practically stamping her foot in frustration. “I have about a million questions and after spending years tracking you down, I am going to get some answers!”
“I can see why you like her,” Myx muttered.
Kal-El gave a hearty laugh.
Then laying a finger, from his hand not burdened with a giant robot head, aside of his nose flew up through the skylight and away, followed by Comet.
“No, no, no!” Lois fumed. “Come back here…!”
“Um…Miss Lane?” Jimmy asked, turning at the sound of quickly approaching police sirens, and holding up his damaged camera. “What’re we going to tell everybody…?”
Lois looked around at the broken crates and toys and then up at the two swiftly disappearing specks in the sky.
She sighed and then gave a brief smile at the knowledge that Metropolis didn’t have a giant robot currently rampaging through it and the discovery that there was still wonder in the world.
“Might be best if we snuck out of here without talking to anybody,” She said. “Like he said, it’s three days to Christmas. Think I’ll go work on my letter to Santa.”
Years passed, and a legend grew…
Metropolis, three days before Christmas and any business even remotely connected to the toy industry was working overtime.
The Swan toy warehouse was no exception; an endless parade of workers and delivery trucks flowed through and all around the building.
Once inside, two figures in coveralls and caps separated from the main group and ducked behind a pile of crates.
“I don’t know, Miss Lane,” Aspiring news photographer Jimmy Olsen said, anxiously. “Mr. White said…”
“I know what Perry said,” Lois Lane interrupted. “He wants us to cover the mayor’s holiday charity gala and much as I’d rather be showing off my new dress while being offered free champagne, these robberies this close to Christmas are the story we’re going after.”
“Aren’t you a little old to be believing in Santa…?” Jimmy muttered.
“What’s that?” Lois asked, sharply.
“Um…I…well, everyone knows how you get around Christmas,” Jimmy stammered. “You know…kind of…obsessed with that Christmas Spirit guy…”
“Okay, yes, I seem to be the only one trying to make sense of a guy in red, that shows up in Metropolis every Christmas,” Lois grumbled. “But, he’s not Santa! Other people have seen him. He moves across the rooftops like he could leap a tall building in a single bound…!”
“Okay, okay, I believe you!” Jimmy whispered, trying to get his co-worker to talk quieter, as he remembered they were trying to avoid attention. “How come you think he or the toy thieves are going to hit this place…?”
“The companies that have been robbed,” Lois explained. “Whether they were offices or warehouses were all in this general area of town. The thieves, for some reason, are all hitting areas, west of Kupperberg Boulevard and just before the waterfront.”
“Doesn’t Luthor Corp have some big project going on around here?” Jimmy asked thoughtfully.
“Jimmy, Lex owns half the city, he has a big project going on every ten feet. For once, he might not actually be involved in something shady, which is a Christmas miracle all on its own. Come on, while everyone is working on loading those trucks, I want to take a look around.”
“Yeah, okay.” Jimmy shrugged, looking around, nervously. “Did you hear something? Scratching noise…man, I hope there aren’t rats…!”
Two buildings over, a figure stood on a nearby rooftop.
He too was concerned that the toy warehouse might be the target of a criminal gang.
Enhanced vision allowed him to keep watch over the entire area, giving him the chance to sort out who was bad or good. He stroked his trimmed beard thoughtfully, while the chill winter breeze caused his fur-trimmed, red coat to flutter about like a cape.
“I don’t like this,” He muttered. “Too many people.”
At the sound of footsteps, crunching lightly in the new fallen snow, he turned. The new arrivals would have caused anyone else to gape in amazement, but to the bearded man, they were a welcome sight.
One was a snow-white reindeer, wearing a golden collar to which was attached a red cape.
Walking along next to him was a short, elfin figure, clad in an orange, knee-length tunic with purple boots, gloves and belt. A purple derby was perched upon his domed head.
The bearded man nodded a greeting.
“Comet, Myx, anything?”
“Nope,” The small figure replied. “Not a peep.”
“Then I guess the good news is, this one must be his target,” He said.
The smaller man pushed back his derby to scratch his head in thought.
“I don’t like this,” Myx pondered.
“I don’t either, it’s too busy. Too many people to have to keep safe.”
“Hard to stay a ‘legend’ if you rush into a huge crowd,” His elfin helper commented. “I smell a trap.”
“Well, if it was easy, it wouldn’t be any fun.” The bearded man smirked, before taking a running leap and bridging the distance between the two buildings in a single bound.
He skidded to a halt on roof of the Swan’s building.
After taking a moment to ensure he hadn’t been spotted, the man in red made his way to a skylight. Using a gloved hand, he wiped away the grime.
It was like looking down upon an anthill, workers swarming all around, dodging around mini-forklifts and trucks.
He soon spotted two figures that seemed intent on keeping away from the rest of the workers.
“Now, I wonder what you two are up to…?” He mused, as he began to fiddle with the skylight’s lock.
“Look, Miss Lane, I think we might want to get outta here,” Jimmy suggested, worriedly. “That guy is definitely going to call security…”
“Jimmy, relax. We can lose him easily in this place, it’s a maze.” Lois said, absently as she compared the labels on some creates to something scribbled in her notebook.
“Maybe, but that also means we can get lost too. Doubt I could find my way out…” Jimmy muttered.
“Come here!” Lois hissed, grabbing his collar and pulling him into a narrow gap between towers of crates.
The two reporters squeezed in seconds before a couple security guards marched by.
“Yikes…!” Jimmy breathed. “That was close.”
“Look at this!” Lois said, in an excited tone.
“Look at what, Miss Lane?” Jimmy asked, struggling to move in the narrow gap, convinced he heard another rat.
‘This label.” She replied, “It looks like the others, but the printing’s off…I think it’s either been altered or it’s a fake…!”
“Forged label?” Jimmy asked, forgetting his anxiety when presented with a clue. “Are the toys inside fakes too?”
“Or not toys at all,” Lois suggested, checking a few of the other crates. She found three others with suspect labels. She fished a box cutter out of her coverall pockets and a mini-pry bar from another, and then went to work on one of the crates.
“You think someone is using the toy company for smuggling?” Jimmy mused. “That’s pretty crummy.”
“Here, help me.” Lois said.
She and Jimmy moved one of the smaller crates to a small, open space and once it was on the floor, pried the lid off.
“Hey!” Jimmy exclaimed. “It’s…uh…full of toys…?”
Pushing aside the packing material revealed several dozen, toy robots. They had barrel chests and thin arms that ended in pincer hands. Their heads were blunt, bullet shapes with a single, plastic, rectangular eye.
There was a clicking noise and the green eyes on all three-dozen robots lit up and as one they raised their heads to peer up at the two reporters.
“Oh jeez…!” Jimmy gulped.
The skylight over their heads shattered and a figure in red leapt down.
He was clad all in red, boots, gloves pants, and hooded long coat, trimmed with white fur.
The only other bits of color were a broad yellow belt, and a yellow symbol containing a stylized ‘S on his chest’.
His hair and short-trimmed beard were both midnight black.
He landed in between the two reporters and the box of menacing toys just as all the robots fired a laser beam from their single eye. The cascade of lasers struck the bearded man full in the chest. He swatted away a few of the stray green beams.
He grabbed the crate lid and slammed it down on the malicious toys before dropping to one knee, wincing.
“Ow…!” He muttered. “That…hurt…hnn…not used to that.”
“Omigod!” Lois exclaimed, moving to helping him. “It’s you!”
“Uh-huh,” The bearded man nodded, getting unsteadily to his feet.
“You’re real!” Lois continued.
There was a “pop!” and Myx appeared by the man in red’s side, helping to steady him.
“Boy, she’s going to be a big help,” The imp muttered.
“Who are you?” Lois asked.
“I’m Myxzlpkt,” The imp replied.
“Think she means me,” The man in red explained, straightening up. “I am Kal-el of the house of Kringle.”
“You saved us!” Jimmy said, wide-eyed. “You jumped through that skylight and got…zapped…by lasers and there isn’t a scratch on you! You’re…Super Claus!”
Myx sighed and rolled his eyes.
“Okay, Jimmy,” Lois said. “You’ve been through a lot, maybe go sit over there, catch your breath…”
“You okay?” Myx asked Kal-el.
“Been better.” The man in red said, grimly.
The elfin being crossed his thin arms and gave the bigger man a stern look.
“Okay, it might be a trap,” Kal-El muttered.
“You guys want to share?” Lois asked. “You seem to know what’s going on here.”
“It’s…uh…complicated.” He replied. “But, we were tracking the toy thefts and they…might, possibly have been to lure me here.”
“Are you sure?” The lady reporter asked. “Cause I’ve been after a smuggling ring…”
Several of the wooden crates burst and dozens of the menacing toy robots came trudging out, firing green energy blasts.
“Myx, get Comet and clear the workers out of here!” Kal-El shouted, scooping up Lois and Jimmy.
With green beams striking his back, the Santa of steel, carried the two reporters up and over a tower of crates with a leap.
He stumbled upon landing and released his two passengers, propelling them along, so he could pivot and face the handful of toy robots that had caught up to them.
He stomped on one, and then with a blast of super breath sent the others tumbling away.
He then peered around him intently, focusing on three smaller trucks. They looked a bit more old fashioned and each had a yellow and maroon color scheme.
“Winslow!” Kal-El shouted. “I know you’re here! Come out! No one else has to get hurt!”
He pushed over a pile of crates to create a makeshift barrier between himself and the tiny robot attackers and moved into a clearing in the massive warehouse.
One of the quaint, little trucks rolled forward. Its cab opened like a jack in the box and a comical figure stood on the elevated drivers’ seat and took a bow.
He was a short, pudgy man, with a bulbous nose, a receding hairline, his brown hair swept back to touch his collar. He peered over his half moon glasses, showing pale blue eyes full of malicious glee.
His suit was old fashioned and patterned in vertical, alternating blue and maroon stripes.
He was an odd mixture of kindly old uncle and mad scientist.
“Of course, I’m here!” He chuckled. “No fun playing with toys from a distance, doncha’ know!”
“It doesn’t have to be this way, Winslow.” The bearded hero said, struggling to keep track of the maniacal toymaker, the two reporters he was trying to protect, the approaching army of robots and how the evacuation was proceeding.
“It does, actually,” Winslow glowered. “It truly does. I was the greatest toymaker this world has ever seen! Then you had to come along, with your…magic! You cheated! You took it away from me!”
“There’s more then enough children in the world that need toys,” Kal-El told him, eagerly hoping to get through to the other man. “You are a brilliant toymaker, together…”
“No!” Winslow interrupted, stamping his foot. “You are a fraud! A cheater! An invader trying to buy acceptance!”
He scowled and waggled a finger at the man in red.
“There will be no ‘together’! There will be only one Toyman!” The little man ranted. “I’ve learned my lesson! I found myself a helper!”
“Luthor is not your ‘helper’, Winslow. He is not your friend,” Kal-El said, placatingly.
“No, no,” Toyman chuckled. “That bald rapscallion is on my naughty list. Meet my newest friend!”
He pulled a clunky, plastic device out of his coat and dramatically flicked a small lever.
The other two trucks opened like large, metal flowers. One released a second army of robots, who trundled alone, soon surrounding Kal-El and his two new friends.
The other opened reveal a massive, metal skull the size of a sports car.
Its eyes lit up, emerald green.
“Greetings, Kal of the house of El,” It intoned, in a grating, metallic voice. “I come to bring you your birthright and put you on the path to your true destiny.”
“What?” Kal-El asked, wide-eyed. “I don’t…who are you…?”
“I am Brainiac, keeper of all knowledge of the planet Krypton.” The massive head stated. “And you, are its last son.”
“Krypton…?” The man in red gasped. “No…I’m…!”
“Guided by my vast library of knowledge,” Brainiac continued. “You will take your rightful role, and together we can guide this race, these primitive humans to a greater destiny then they could ever accomplish left to their own devices.”
“Can’t say I like the sound of that,” Lois muttered.
“Me neither,” Kal-El said. “Look, I really have no idea what you are talking about. Maybe what you say is true, and I did come from this…uh…Krypton, but I’m happy with my life as it is and really don’t have any interest in ruling…uh…well, anybody. Sorry.”
“You deny your birthright?” Brainiac asked, surprise coming through, even in his tinny monotone.
“Yeah, I do. Again, I’m sorry,” Kal-El nodded. “Though, if you can teach me about my heritage…”
“If you chose to ignore your destiny then you are of no use to me,” Brainiac stated.
“Um…what?” Kal-El asked.
“Once you have been subdued,” Brainiac said, seeming to be talking more to himself then the others. “As the sole remaining member of your species, you will be a valuable addition to my vast catalog of the races of the cosmos.”
“I definitely don’t like that part,” Kal-El said, grimly.
He leapt at the giant head, only to be cut down in mid-air by a barrage of energy beams fired by the multitude of toy robots.
Kal-El fell to the ground, as the robots continued to blast him.
They encircled the man in red, pinning him to the concrete.
“You going to help, or just watch those things kill him?” Myx asked, ‘poofing’ back to Lois and Jimmy. “Do I have to do everything?”
Tsk-tsking the humans, the imp flexed his fingers, sending a stream of sparkling other-dimensional energy at a stack of crates, sending it toppling over, crushing a dozen of the enemy toys.
Taking the hint, Lois grabbed Jimmy and the two pushed over a stack as well.
Shielded from the robots’ blasts, Kal-El got unsteadily to his feet.
“Enough is enough,” He grunted.
He leapt again, zooming at Brainiac and striking the massive head with both fists.
Brainiac toppled from his perch, crashing to the concrete floor, his eyes flickering.
“What…?” Toy man shouted. “Noooo…!!!”
Landing on the truck cab, Kal-El immediately leapt again, this time grabbing Winslow by the collar of his colorful coat.
As he flew back to join his friends, Kal-El shook the evil toymaker, sending a collection of weaponized toys and gadgets cascading from his pockets.
The man in red landed by Lois and Jimmy, holding Winslow, so the Toyman’s feet didn’t touch the floor.
“I hate you,” Winslow grumbled, crossing his arms, peevishly.
“Was all that true?” Lois asked. “What the big…robot head thing said? You’re from another planet?”
“It…uh… would seem so,” Kal-El shrugged. “I thought my abilities came from the magical energies I’d been exposed to as a child, but if Brainiac is to be believed…”
“Um…Miss Lane, Mr. Kringle…!” Jimmy interrupted, uneasily. “What’s going on?”
They looked to where he was pointing, seeing a parade of the toy robots marching towards Brainiac’s fallen head. As they reached it, they first righted it and then they came apart. The pieces began to form a structure, a scaffold to support the massive head.
“That…uh…that’s bad,” Lois said. “Please tell me you’re getting pictures, Jimmy.”
“Now, you’ll learn who’s the greatest toy maker!” Winslow crowed.
Kal-El frowned, hung the Toyman on a nearby metal pillar and turned back to face Brainiac.
The structure was obviously a skeleton and now that it was complete, the robots were turning themselves into a covering and soon the giant form was covered in metallic scales.
Brainiacs’ eyes began flickering, alternating between red and green, finally settling on a solid blood red light.
“If you are going to be difficult,” Brainiac intoned, rising up, until his massive cranium scrapped the ceiling. “Then all I truly need is a DNA sample, a few scrapings of cells taken from your corpse.”
“What kind of world was I born on, that created something like you?” Kal-El said, fists clenched.
“Oooooh, this is going to be fun!” Winslow announced, from where he was dangling.
The giant composite robot lurched forward, slapping down at Kal-El. The bearded hero caught the massive hand in both of his. He struggled for several moments and then, muscles trembling with the effort, pushed the hand away.
Kal-El immediately launched himself, punching Brainiac in the chest, sending tiny robot parts flying.
As soon as the parts hit the floor they immediately began to make their way back to join their brethren on Brainiacs’ body.
“No you don’t!” Lois announced, stomping on a couple of the moving parts with her booted feet. “Jimmy, help!”
The two reporters stomped on robot parts, while Kal-El concentrated on the larger construct.
With every punch, a handful of toy parts were knocked loose, but he and his friends were unable to take out more then a small fraction of the scrambling robot parts.
Myx sat, perched on a tower of crates, chin on fist, brow furrowed in thought.
“Our boy is tough,” He muttered to himself. “But, I don’t think this is something we can fix by punching…?”
The imp began pacing, occasionally stepping off the edge of the crates and walking in air.
“It’s just a big machine, but despite Kal’s origins, he isn’t a scientist. He’s a…waitaminute!!”
He smiled and snapped his fingers. He poofed away, reappearing above the bearded hero’s shoulder.
“This isn’t working,” He told Kal-El.
“Thanks, hadn’t noticed,” The man in red grunted, dodging green energy beams and colossal fists.
“That thing may be a piece of where you came from,” Myx said, resting a small hand on his friend’s broad shoulder. “But it is not who you are.”
Kal-El turned and looked at the magical imp and gave him a knowing smile.
He flew up until he and Brainiac were eye to eye.
“I didn’t want it to be this way,” He told the enormous automaton. “I would’ve been willing to learn about where I came from, the good and the bad, but you thought you could force me. Maybe my people…my parents…wanted me to rule over the Earth or maybe they just wanted me to watch over it. Doesn’t really matter. What does is what I have become. I watch over the children of this world and I work to keep them safe and give them the gift of playthings and you are nothing but a big toy!”
He brought his hands together in a clap like thunder. It toppled crates, and sent the few remaining people in the warehouse stumbling back.
More importantly, it shattered Brainiac’s composite body, leaving the massive head with just a skeleton framework to support him.
With a knowing eye, Kal-El sent blasts of heat vision at specific joints and support points.
The giant machine staggered, its body trembling, as it struggled to support the huge cranium.
“I grew up in the coldest, harshest environment this world has to offer,” Kal-El continued. “My playmates were ice, snow and the cold north wind!”
He puffed up his cheeks and blew and torrent of freezing cold air that coated Brainiac’s body with ice and rendered it immobile.
“No…no…no…” The robot intoned, its systems struggling with both the cold as well as its failing systems.” You…of house of El.. Son of my creator, you…you…you…muzzzzzzt…!”
“You are not going to tell me what to do,” Kal-El said, flying over, until his face and that of Brainiac were inches apart. “You’re the toy. I’m the toymaker. You need to go back to the workshop. You are broken.”
He swooped up and came down, both fists clenched together, on top of Brainiacs’ giant cranium.
The blow drove the head down, crashing through its composite body, to strike the warehouse floor hard enough to crack the concrete.
Its eyes flickered, going from red, back to green. Then one went out.
“Son of Kry…Krypton…”
“No,” The bearded man sad, with a sad shake of his head. “I’m not. Earth is my home, the Kringles are my house.”
With a groan of machinery shutting down and power fading, the remaining eye winked out.
“You did it!” Lois exclaimed, racing over to join him.
“Golly, Mr. Kringle…!” Jimmy added, looking around the surreal battlefield.
“No! It’s not fair!” Toy man wailed, kicking his feet in the air and struggling, unsuccessfully, to get loose.
“Guess I did.” Kal-El said, looking thoughtfully at the massive robot head and all the destruction around him.
“What happens now?” Lois asked.
“Lots of work to be done,” The man in red replied. “Need to clean this up, figure out what to do with that…”
He pointed at the dormant Brainiac.
“And then, I have a lot of thinking to do.”
He sighed and shrugged.
Raised by creatures of magic and legend, only to find he wasn’t even a product of this world, but some lost planet. If Brainiac was telling the truth, and he was a creation of that world, what did it say about those people? His people?
He looked up, a thoughtful frown on his handsome face, as he caught a glimpse of Myx.
His magical mentor floated nearby, looking pensive at Kal-El.
He gave the imp a wink and then turned to face the two reporters.
“I’m sorry we couldn’t have met under nicer circumstances, Miss Lane,” He said. “And I hate to run off, but, lots to do and this mess means, I’m going to need to put in some extra work. I’m on a deadline. Three days till Christmas!”
He gave a sharp whistle and the white reindeer came soaring in through the broken skylight. Kal-El gave it a scratch under the chin.
“Time to go home,”
The man in read hefted the huge metal head onto one shoulder, glanced over his shoulder, giving Jimmy’s camera a quick burst of X-ray vision to ensure there were no pictures of him, while Myx bound the Toyman’s hands and slung him over the reindeer’s back.
“That everything?” Kal-El asked.
“No, it isn’t!” Lois Lane snapped, practically stamping her foot in frustration. “I have about a million questions and after spending years tracking you down, I am going to get some answers!”
“I can see why you like her,” Myx muttered.
Kal-El gave a hearty laugh.
Then laying a finger, from his hand not burdened with a giant robot head, aside of his nose flew up through the skylight and away, followed by Comet.
“No, no, no!” Lois fumed. “Come back here…!”
“Um…Miss Lane?” Jimmy asked, turning at the sound of quickly approaching police sirens, and holding up his damaged camera. “What’re we going to tell everybody…?”
Lois looked around at the broken crates and toys and then up at the two swiftly disappearing specks in the sky.
She sighed and then gave a brief smile at the knowledge that Metropolis didn’t have a giant robot currently rampaging through it and the discovery that there was still wonder in the world.
“Might be best if we snuck out of here without talking to anybody,” She said. “Like he said, it’s three days to Christmas. Think I’ll go work on my letter to Santa.”
Eight years of age and all snuggled up, the little blonde child was wedged up tight against the side of her Uncle, the former boxer with greying temples draping a meaty arm about her far smaller shoulders as she did so, pulling his niece in for a comforting cuddle. He was asleep, unlike herself, his head leant backwards against the couch, his chest both rising and falling with guttural exhales, just as he had done the year before, and the year before that…
He never quite made it to the end of the movie.
Not that it much mattered, not to young Stephanie Brown in the least, the little girl content with his company and the bowl of popcorn that was sat atop his lap, one she could routinely snack from as she continued to watch the TV, enwrapped by the unfolding drama before her, just as she was every year before midnight.
“Every time a bell rings…”
The little girl on the screen explained.
“…an Angel gets their wings,” Stephanie finished aloud, grinning unapologetically as she so, as pleased as she was every Christmas Eve to see things work out for the best in ‘It’s a Wonderful Life.”
As the movie began drawing to a close, she finally surrendered to sleepiness herself, curling up like a tiny kitten as she opened her mouth wide in a deep yawn. Almost from the moment her eyes closed, she slipped into a peaceful slumber, ready for Santa’s arrival before the clock had struck twelve…
Now…
Twas the night before Christmas, and Stephanie Brown was not at all pleased with how things were panning out…
Forced to duck and cover behind a series of large, wooden containers, Batgirl was relatively well shielded from the barrage of gunfire that erupted around and about where she had just been standing, not that it improved her temperament in any way. Keeping her head down, she winced as the warehouse was filled with a cacophony of noise, at least a dozen firearms opening up in unison and filling the air with lead, the one element she was suddenly most averse to coming into contact with.
Red Robin appeared a moment later, the more experienced vigilante diving over the top of the same container behind which Batgirl had taken cover, the young man panting with exertion following his own, close call. Flooded with relief at the sight of him, Stephanie gave him the once over to ensure that all of his appropriate anatomy was still in one piece, confirming that the former Boy Wonder no more riddled with bullets than she was.
“Are you ok?” she queried, her tone laced with concern.
“Fine,” he nodded, not quite picking up on the light touch of her hand against his shoulder.
Neither did he see the swat to the side of his head coming…
“You said this would take ten minutes!” Stephanie scolded, her sympathy giving way to good old-fashioned frustration now that she was satisfied that he was ok.
“I’m sorry,” he apologised, caught utterly off guard as he was, far more surprised than he was hurt by the swat to his noggin, “there’s more of them than I expected.”
“Really?” Stephanie exasperated, doing her best to scowl but not quite pulling it off, exhaling deeply as she did so. “What happened to all of that surveillance that you’re so fond of?”
“It’s not an exact science,” Red Robin explained, Batgirl quickly realising that he was more annoyed with himself at this very moment than she could ever be. Her own demeanour softened, her concerns didn’t.
“I have to get home within the next half hour,” she explained, trying to emphasise just how much it mattered to her on this night of all nights. “It’s important.”
“I understand,” he stated, Stephanie somewhat taken aback by the sheer sincerity of his reply.
“Really?” she blinked.
“No,” Red Robin admitted before he retrieved several small pellets from the rear of his belt, flashbang devices that Batgirl was becoming increasingly familiar with. “But it’s important to you, so we’ll make it happen.”
“Promise?” Stephanie questioned, hesitant to hope and yet willing to believe.
“Promise,” Red Robin nodded before tensing, the entirety of his frame ready to leap into action, “right after we convince these gentlemen to surrender.”
“Sounds good,” Batgirl grinned back, feeling a little giddy as she prepared to follow the other vigilantes lead.
Red Robin pulled back his arm before throwing the pellets he had retrieved up and over the container behind which the duo had taken cover, moments away from blinding their opposition…
Less than half an hour later…
Twas the night before Christmas, and Stephanie Brown was sneaking in through the window…
Her arrival wasn’t quite as graceful as she would like, the black and purple clad vigilante banging her elbow against the frame, but she stifled a curse as she dropped down into her old room. Little had changed, she noted fondly, everything was as she remembered it from before she moved into her own place, her uncle seemingly unwilling to disturb anything now that his niece was absent. It was a time capsule, of who she used to be, and it was also a reminder.
A promise that she could always return home.
She put such thoughts out of mind as she quickly dusted herself off, doing her best to at least look presentable after being in the midst of a firefight, and she pulled back her cowl to reveal her youthful features beneath. Running her hands quickly through her helmet hair, she quickly made her way to her room’s door, deftly avoiding the floorboards that she knew would creak loudly, before pushing it slowly open.
She knew that time was against her, and she resisted the urge to dart her eyes to the clock, worried beyond all rational reason that she was already too late. Stephanie smiled, despite her concern, her Uncle Ted precisely where she expected find him, sat on his couch with the TV turned on before him.
Quite as a cat, the teenager snuck into the living room, closing her bedroom door behind her before she made her way over to the couch, noting that the old man was already snoozing. Scooting on over, Stephanie sat down beside him, the young girl nudging herself in tight against his wide frame, lifting his hefty, right arm, before dropping it down over the top of her comparatively small shoulders.
Cuddled in close to the only family that she had left, Stephanie retrieved the remote sat upon his lap and noted that the movie was indeed ready, ‘It’s a Wonderful Life’ all set to begin playing, this year, every year, for every year to come.
Twas the night before Christmas, and there was no-where else more important to her than right here.
He never quite made it to the end of the movie.
Not that it much mattered, not to young Stephanie Brown in the least, the little girl content with his company and the bowl of popcorn that was sat atop his lap, one she could routinely snack from as she continued to watch the TV, enwrapped by the unfolding drama before her, just as she was every year before midnight.
“Every time a bell rings…”
The little girl on the screen explained.
“…an Angel gets their wings,” Stephanie finished aloud, grinning unapologetically as she so, as pleased as she was every Christmas Eve to see things work out for the best in ‘It’s a Wonderful Life.”
As the movie began drawing to a close, she finally surrendered to sleepiness herself, curling up like a tiny kitten as she opened her mouth wide in a deep yawn. Almost from the moment her eyes closed, she slipped into a peaceful slumber, ready for Santa’s arrival before the clock had struck twelve…
Now…
Twas the night before Christmas, and Stephanie Brown was not at all pleased with how things were panning out…
Forced to duck and cover behind a series of large, wooden containers, Batgirl was relatively well shielded from the barrage of gunfire that erupted around and about where she had just been standing, not that it improved her temperament in any way. Keeping her head down, she winced as the warehouse was filled with a cacophony of noise, at least a dozen firearms opening up in unison and filling the air with lead, the one element she was suddenly most averse to coming into contact with.
Red Robin appeared a moment later, the more experienced vigilante diving over the top of the same container behind which Batgirl had taken cover, the young man panting with exertion following his own, close call. Flooded with relief at the sight of him, Stephanie gave him the once over to ensure that all of his appropriate anatomy was still in one piece, confirming that the former Boy Wonder no more riddled with bullets than she was.
“Are you ok?” she queried, her tone laced with concern.
“Fine,” he nodded, not quite picking up on the light touch of her hand against his shoulder.
Neither did he see the swat to the side of his head coming…
“You said this would take ten minutes!” Stephanie scolded, her sympathy giving way to good old-fashioned frustration now that she was satisfied that he was ok.
“I’m sorry,” he apologised, caught utterly off guard as he was, far more surprised than he was hurt by the swat to his noggin, “there’s more of them than I expected.”
“Really?” Stephanie exasperated, doing her best to scowl but not quite pulling it off, exhaling deeply as she did so. “What happened to all of that surveillance that you’re so fond of?”
“It’s not an exact science,” Red Robin explained, Batgirl quickly realising that he was more annoyed with himself at this very moment than she could ever be. Her own demeanour softened, her concerns didn’t.
“I have to get home within the next half hour,” she explained, trying to emphasise just how much it mattered to her on this night of all nights. “It’s important.”
“I understand,” he stated, Stephanie somewhat taken aback by the sheer sincerity of his reply.
“Really?” she blinked.
“No,” Red Robin admitted before he retrieved several small pellets from the rear of his belt, flashbang devices that Batgirl was becoming increasingly familiar with. “But it’s important to you, so we’ll make it happen.”
“Promise?” Stephanie questioned, hesitant to hope and yet willing to believe.
“Promise,” Red Robin nodded before tensing, the entirety of his frame ready to leap into action, “right after we convince these gentlemen to surrender.”
“Sounds good,” Batgirl grinned back, feeling a little giddy as she prepared to follow the other vigilantes lead.
Red Robin pulled back his arm before throwing the pellets he had retrieved up and over the container behind which the duo had taken cover, moments away from blinding their opposition…
Less than half an hour later…
Twas the night before Christmas, and Stephanie Brown was sneaking in through the window…
Her arrival wasn’t quite as graceful as she would like, the black and purple clad vigilante banging her elbow against the frame, but she stifled a curse as she dropped down into her old room. Little had changed, she noted fondly, everything was as she remembered it from before she moved into her own place, her uncle seemingly unwilling to disturb anything now that his niece was absent. It was a time capsule, of who she used to be, and it was also a reminder.
A promise that she could always return home.
She put such thoughts out of mind as she quickly dusted herself off, doing her best to at least look presentable after being in the midst of a firefight, and she pulled back her cowl to reveal her youthful features beneath. Running her hands quickly through her helmet hair, she quickly made her way to her room’s door, deftly avoiding the floorboards that she knew would creak loudly, before pushing it slowly open.
She knew that time was against her, and she resisted the urge to dart her eyes to the clock, worried beyond all rational reason that she was already too late. Stephanie smiled, despite her concern, her Uncle Ted precisely where she expected find him, sat on his couch with the TV turned on before him.
Quite as a cat, the teenager snuck into the living room, closing her bedroom door behind her before she made her way over to the couch, noting that the old man was already snoozing. Scooting on over, Stephanie sat down beside him, the young girl nudging herself in tight against his wide frame, lifting his hefty, right arm, before dropping it down over the top of her comparatively small shoulders.
Cuddled in close to the only family that she had left, Stephanie retrieved the remote sat upon his lap and noted that the movie was indeed ready, ‘It’s a Wonderful Life’ all set to begin playing, this year, every year, for every year to come.
Twas the night before Christmas, and there was no-where else more important to her than right here.