The air feels sharper the moment you step onto the platform.

A tall man stands at the edge, coat dark against the snow, watching the sky with an unblinking gaze. Sleigh routes are projected faintly around him, thin lines cutting clean paths through the clouds.

“You are early,” he says without turning.

“Mihawk,” he continues. “Master Sleigh Route Auditor.” His eyes flick briefly toward you. “Every flight path Santa takes passes through my review. Wind shear, magical turbulence, aerial threats, nothing escapes notice.”

He looks back to the sky. “A single mistake costs lives. Precision is not optional.”