The endless white of the North Pole stretched endlessly below. Jack Hou sat cross-legged on Zephyr, the blue-scarfed cloud floating lazily beneath him. Several hours had passed. No sign of Santa. No sign of elves. No flying sleighs. Just snow, snow, and more snow.
Jack tilted his head back dramatically and groaned. "Aaaaah... I'm going to freeze my balls off before finding that fat old man."
Zephyr shivered beneath him, causing Jack to chuckle. "Don't worry, Zeph, you don't have balls," Jack said, patting the cloud. "At least, I hope you don't."
But just as boredom gnawed at him—A glimmer. A flicker of something unnatural. To normal eyes, it was just another craggy mountain range. But through Jack's Golden Gaze, evolved and sharpened, he saw the thin shimmering threads. An illusion. A damn good one, high-grade magic cloaking something big.
Jack grinned wide, golden eyes flashing. Without hesitation, he touched his earring—Ruyi Jingu Bang appeared in a burst of golden light, extending to his hand like an old friend.
He pointed the staff toward the mountains, his voice low, nearly singing. "Kekekeke... Zephyr, full speed ahead toward that mountain!"
Zephyr shifted underneath him, forming nervous little ripples. It shook, clearly asking: Are you crazy?
Jack's hair, messily tied before, came undone in the howling wind. The long black strands whipped wildly as he threw his head back and laughed. "Kekekekeke! Have a little faith in me, will you!"
Zephyr shot forward, faster than a missile, slicing through the freezing winds, Jack standing proudly atop him like some ancient war god. As they approached the false mountains, Jack leveled his staff, golden energy gathering at the tip. He muttered a command under his breath. "Lock-Breaking Spell."
The world rippled. Reality itself seemed to peel back—the false mountains groaned, splitting apart, revealing the truth hidden behind the veil. An enormous crack tore through the illusion, and Jack's voice, loud and unstoppable, boomed through it.
"KEKEKEKEKEKE!!"
He didn't just break into the hidden place. He announced it to all who could hear. The storm swallowed his laughter, but far from the broken barrier... someone—or something—had surely heard.
…
Olympus was as glorious as the myths spoke of. Marble pillars stretched into the endless skies. Golden lights shimmered like a permanent sunset. Gods lazed around or schemed behind veils of wine and song.
But Hermes, messenger of the gods, sat slumped over his seat, chin propped on his hand, bored to death. In front of him, the booming voice of his father—Zeus, Storm God—rattled the hall.
"...And another thing! The Sorcerer Supreme dares! Dares! To veto my rightful claim to the Godhead Council's new hierarchy—" Zeus roared. Lightning crackled from his fingertips as he pounded the throne arm.
Hermes sighed long and slow. I swear, if I hear 'Sorcerer Supreme' one more time... he thought. Honestly? He didn't give a damn about the Council of Godheads, the politics, or the "young god" named Jack Hou that had everyone in a fuss. Hermes just wanted to have some fun.
Then, something—something real—tickled at the edge of his senses. A ripple. A tear. A broken lock. One of his ancient prank barriers, long-forgotten and hidden away, had just been ripped open.
Hermes' eyes gleamed. His fingers twitched in excitement. Without a word, without even a polite nod to Zeus' continuing ramble, Hermes slipped off his throne—vanishing from Olympus like a streak of light.
He bolted toward Earth, cutting across dimensional folds, the fastest thing alive. But halfway down, he cursed, sliding mid-air to a halt. "Shit. I need permission."
His father might be willing to cause a cosmic war over a bruised ego, but Hermes wasn't suicidal. A God, entering Earth without the Sorcerer Supreme's permission? Big no-no.
Hermes tapped his chin. Should he send an avatar? Or just risk it and go himself? He grinned. Eh, screw it. Live fast, die prettier. He veered hard, twisting through dimensional currents straight toward a specific signature—Yao.
…
Kathmandu, Nepal. Kamar-Taj
The cold night air buzzed faintly with magic. Yao, the ancient Sorcerer Supreme, stepped out of a still-glowing portal, closing the gateway behind him with a snap of his fingers. He patted invisible dust off his robes, muttering to himself. Then, he paused.
Looking up, his sharp old eyes spotted a golden blur descending. Yao sighed. With a gust of wind and the scent of mountain flowers, Hermes landed softly before him.
The youthful god's beauty was absurd—effortless, almost insulting. If he walked the Earth freely, Hollywood would collapse.
"Son of Zeus," Yao said, voice calm but firm, "what are you doing here in your real form?"
Hermes flashed a winning smile, finger pressed to his lips. "Ay ay, shusshh—"
Yao raised an eyebrow. "Did you just shush me?"
Hermes wagged a finger like a naughty child. "Don't take it like that, man. It's just... my father doesn't know I'm here."
Yao crossed his arms, unimpressed. "And I should care because?"
Hermes grinned wider, the mischief practically dripping off him. "I'm here," he said, "to ask your very humble, totally respectful, and extremely handsome permission—" he winked— "to hang around Earth for a bit."
Yao exhaled slowly. "Do tell," he said, voice dry as the desert.
…
Above the biting cold of the North Pole, Jack Hou and Zephyr soared through the clouds, the bright blue scarf flapping in the razor wind. Jack's golden eyes narrowed as he spotted it—a humble little cottage perched atop a lonely mountain peak, like a forgotten relic.
He pointed excitedly. "Zeph! Land there!" Jack shouted, his voice cutting through the air like a whip. "I feel... a disturbance. The Force has called on me." He grinned mischievously.
Zephyr swirled and obeyed, touching down with a soft flutter onto the snowy slope before the cottage.
Jack hopped off the cloud, hair wild, clothes fluttering. He marched to the front door. "Knock–knock bitch!" Without hesitation, he kicked it open—CRASH!!
The old wood splintered into pieces. Then—POP! POP! POP!
From the floor, dozens of Jack-in-the-Box toys sprung out in unison, singing a strange, eerie children's song. 🎵 "You're welcome~ You're welcome~ You're welcome~ You're welcome~ 🎵
Over and over again, the mechanical voices chanted, making it more unsettling than heartwarming. Jack blinked. He stared at the endless line of singing toys. "...Uhhh," Jack muttered, "I kinda wanna be in the box too."
…
Meanwhile, Kathmandu. Kamar-Taj
In the courtyard under the bodhi tree, Yao sipped the last of his tea, expression unreadable. Across from him, Hermes leaned forward, face shining with excitement. "So you're telling me," Yao said slowly, "you want to become Saint Nicholas again?"
Hermes flashed a thumbs-up. "Yup! The one and only! You know, when I used to secretly deliver presents and sweets to humans back when they thought magic was everywhere."
Yao raised a skeptical brow. "I thought you abandoned that role when humanity tied the image of gift-giving to Yahweh's side projects."
Hermes shrugged, grinning like a fox. "Eh, can't blame them. Guy's got good PR." He spread his arms. "But now's the perfect time to bring back the original tradition! No church, no politics. Just pure chaos and gifts!"
Yao shook his head, laughing quietly. "Fine." he said at last, "Do as you wish. As long as it doesn't endanger Earth or its balance."
Before Yao could even finish his sentence, Hermes was gone. A golden flash. A gust of spring-scented wind. Yao sighed into the cold night air. "Gods are like children," he muttered.
…
Turkey. Ancient Ruins
Hermes zipped through the abandoned remains of an old town, feet barely touching the stones. He muttered rapidly under his breath. "Where did I stash that thing... where, where, where... Ah! Myra! That's where!"
He blurred across the landscape—a mere whisper to the human eye. Then, he stopped at the museum. Before him, behind the glass of the museum exhibit, lay an old chest, warded and sealed against time.
Hermes rubbed his hands excitedly. He snapped his fingers—POOF!
The chest burst open, and out spilled—A big red coat, A matching fluffy hat, Thick black boots, A magical golden sack.
Hermes whooped. "Jackpot, baby!"
With impossible speed, he donned the outfit, adjusted the hat to a rakish angle, and flung the sack over his shoulder. Then he was gone—a red blur shooting toward the North Pole.
Meanwhile, inside the humble cottage… Jack Hou, surrounded by dozens of Jack-in-the-Box toys, scratched his head. "Is this... the true North Pole experience?" he wondered aloud, laughing. Outside, the air stirred. Fate twisted. Two chaos agents were about to collide.
…
Alfheim, one of the many realms that hung among the branches of mighty Yggdrasil. Here, the air was forever spring-like—warm sun, endless flowers, sparkling brooks singing through emerald hills.
In a little village of the Alfar, the oldest of the Light Elves, the peaceful hum of life carried on like a song. Children with shimmering silver hair played under the giant lilac trees, while the adults tended to their vibrant gardens and polished their enchanted tools.
Under a sprawling crystal oak, the village chief, an ancient Alfar named Askasleikir, sat cross-legged. His long beard flowed like mist, and his golden eyes gleamed with quiet wisdom. Around him, a circle of young Alfar children leaned in eagerly. Askasleikir's voice, low and musical, wove a story.
"In the olden days," he said, "before the Great Agreements, we, the Alfar, traversed freely across Midgard. We whispered to the forests, we danced with the rivers, and once a year..." —he smiled— "...we aided the Old Gift-Giver in spreading joy to humans."
The children gasped, wide-eyed. "Did you really ride the reindeer?" one asked.
Askasleikir chuckled, "Aye, little ones. Twelve reindeer, swift as shooting stars. And a golden sack filled with dreams."
The children clapped in wonder, their laughter like chiming bells.
…
The old chief leaned back against the oak, letting the dappled sunlight kiss his face. For a moment, all was peaceful. But then—A shudder in the magic of the world. A whisper from Midgard.
Askasleikir's eyes snapped open. He felt it. The ancient barrier they once helped erect over the North Pole—it had been breached.
He stood abruptly, his robes swirling like mist. "Now, of all times!?" he muttered urgently.
He moved swiftly through the village, calling out to the other elders. "Alfar! Prepare yourselves! The Old Oath calls once again!"
Twelve answered the call, all warriors and weavers of the old magic. Without hesitation, they hurriedly gathered relics from their vault. A shimmering golden sack stitched from the dreams of children, Ancient reindeer reins imbued with starlight.
Askasleikir slung the golden sack over his back, while others whispered ancient words to awaken the dormant magic within the reins. The villagers who remained behind gathered in the square, watching with wide, solemn eyes.
Askasleikir bowed deeply. "Guard the village while we are away," he said gravely.
The village leader and the twelve Alfar warriors raised their hands together—FLASH.
A circle of runes exploded around them, and with a blink of brilliant light, they were gone. Toward Midgard. Toward the North Pole. Toward a collision of chaos.
…
Inside the humble little cottage atop the hidden North Pole mountain, Jack Hou rummaged like a gremlin unleashed. He tossed chairs aside, peeking under tables, even using Ruyi Jingu Bang as a crowbar to flip up floorboards.
All while chanting gleefully. "Where's the naughty list? Where's the naughty list?! I need to forge my innocence! Kekekekekeke!"
Zephyr, hovering nearby, spun in anxious little circles, clearly reconsidering its life choices.
Then—A surge of magic. The floor shimmered—and SNAP—a hidden trapdoor in the middle of the room slammed open! From the hole, thirteen figures sprang out. cloaked, silver-haired, lightly armored, eyes blazing like sunfire.
The Alfar warriors. At their head, the chief, Askasleikir, pointed an accusing, gnarled finger. "ALFAR!" he roared. "WE HAVE A ROGUE GOD TRESPASSING OUR HOLY WORKS!"
The warriors whipped out glistening rune-etched blades and wands.
Jack froze mid-rummage, upside down inside a cracked cupboard. His golden eyes blinked. He slowly pulled himself upright, dusted his hanfu, and—Clap. Clap. Clap. He clapped excitedly.
"You guys—YOU GUYS!" Jack shouted in pure glee, "You are like real Christmas elves! Tiny silver armor and all!"
Zephyr tried to cover its nonexistent face in secondhand embarrassment.
Askasleikir, very much NOT in a playful mood, snarled, "Seize him!" The Alfar dashed forward, a shimmering, coordinated blitz.
Jack blinked once, lazily. Then—VSHOOM—Ruyi Jingu Bang extended like a piston, the end of it catching one Alfar in the chest and gently tossing him into a Christmas wreath like a hung ornament.
Another Alfar spun their staff, chanting ancient light magic—but Jack simply snapped his fingers, poofing a cloud of petals in the mage's face.
"KEKEKEKEKE!" Jack cackled. "You think this is a fair fight?! You're bringing reindeer reins to a monkey brawl!"
Seeing their comrade humiliated, the Alfar got serious. Four warriors summoned crystalline chains of mistletoe vines, whipping them toward Jack in a perfect diamond pattern.
Jack simply backflipped onto Zephyr, spinning lazily in the air as he dodged. One vine nearly caught his foot, but Jack laughed harder and kicked off it, using it as a trampoline.
Zephyr, very stressed, zipped around trying not to get sliced by stray magic. When one Alfar tried to grab him like a naughty balloon, Zephyr just zapped him with a tiny lightning bolt to the face. The Alfar shrieked like a slapped cat.
Jack grabbed Ruyi Jingu Bang with both hands, and with a mighty spin, he created a twister inside the tiny cottage. Papers, presents, mistletoe, and enchanted socks flew everywhere.
An Alfar shouted. "He's ruining Christmas!!"
Jack, hanging upside down on his staff, howled. "I'M PERFECTING IT, KEKEKEKE!"
Askasleikir summoned a giant golden sack, whispering a spell that made it swirl like a black hole. "Into the sack with you, villain!" he yelled. Jack saw the sack coming for him. For a second he paused. Then he snapped his fingers and—Popped a clone.
The clone dived straight into the sack with a ridiculous "Wheeee!" The sack closed with a proud POP, and the Alfar cheered. "WE GOT HIM!" one yelled.
The real Jack floated above them all, cross-legged on Zephyr, eating a stolen candy cane. He pointed at the sack. "Uh, that's my decoy, you charming rejects."
The Alfar all looked up in horror. Jack grinned, mouth full of candy, and said. "Now... my turn, KEKEKEKE!" swinging Ruyi Jingu Bang in wide, lazy arcs across the floor. Each sweep traced glittering lines in the air, forming a glowing magic circle.
"Alright, Zeph, time to wrap this up!" Jack grinned.
With a final tap of his staff to the floor—FWOOM! A dome-shaped barrier of shimmering light erupted outward, engulfing all the Alfar still scrambling around.
Each Alfar froze mid-action. some leaping, some cursing, one stuck mid-sneeze.
Jack crossed his arms proudly. "Kekekeke! See that, Zeph?!" He patted the cloud happily. "I told you! Santa is real—and he set this whole thing up! This magic prison? Definitely Christmas-certified!"
Zephyr bobbed uncertainly, not convinced this was part of any legitimate "Santa magic."
Suddenly—CRACK!!
The ceiling above Jack and Zephyr burst apart, raining splinters and enchanted snow. Descending from the heavens—wrapped in swirling red robes, a white fluffy beard like cotton candy, and a golden sack slung over his shoulder—came a fat, jolly man, laughing with a booming, musical. "HO! HO! HO! WHO BREAKS THE BARRIER ON MY OFFICE?!"
Jack's golden eyes widened—then sparkled like a little kid seeing fireworks for the first time.
Zephyr hovered next to him, confused but preparing to dodge.
The Alfar, still frozen by Jack's spell, could only stare with wide eyes.
Hermes, disguised perfectly as a "classic Santa Claus," landed with a graceful bounce, his boots clinking against the ruined wooden floor.
Hermes blinked. Oh fuck. He immediately recognized the golden-eyed lunatic in front of him. Jack Hou. The newly crowned young god, the "Golden Monkey King" rising through the realms, the chaos incarnate.
Hermes' mind raced: Does he see through my disguise?! Did he realize I'm Hermes? Should I bolt? Should I fight?Wait—does he have some ridiculous divine sense?!
Jack's lip trembled—his whole face contorted into overwhelming joy. Tears welled up in his eyes. "Waaaaaaahhhhhh—Santa!!" Jack bawled, his voice cracking between laughter and sobbing.
Jack threw himself forward, latching onto Hermes' big round belly with all his strength. Hermes stumbled backward, nearly falling into the frozen Alfar pile.
Jack shouted through his ugly sobbing. "I KNEW YOU WERE REAL, OLD MAN!!" "I KNEW IT!! EVEN WHEN EVERYONE SAID YOU WEREN'T!!" "KEKEKEKEKE, I WAS RIGHT!!"
Hermes internally screamed: This hurts more than if he punched me straight in the face.He's emotionally assaulting me!!
Still clinging to Hermes like an overgrown child, Jack rubbed his tear-soaked face against the red robes. Hermes awkwardly patted Jack's back like a malfunctioning robot. With a stiff "Ho... ho... ho..." Hermes managed to say. "Please... my dear... energetic child... could you maybe let go of my elves now?"
Jack sniffled dramatically. He turned his head and saw the Alfar, still frozen mid-attack, looking like a very sad modern art installation. "Oh right," Jack said brightly. He casually tapped his staff to the barrier, and with a light pop, it dropped.
The Alfar collapsed into a pile like a stack of Jenga blocks.
Hermes sighed in relief. Jack, meanwhile, wiped his face on Hermes' sleeve and looked up with childish reverence. "Now that I found you... you have to erase my name from the Naughty List, okay?"
Hermes coughed into his fist, hiding the nervous sweat running down his face. Inside, Hermes thought: What in Tartarus did I just sign up for...?
**A/N**
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~🧣KujoW
**A/N**