The night was cloaked in winter’s chill, a blanket of snow draping rooftops and tree branches under a moonlit sky. The faint jingling of distant sleigh bells and the occasional crunch of boots on snow-covered shingles were the only sounds breaking the peaceful silence. Lights twinkled in windows, casting warm glows over freshly hung stockings and carefully arranged cookies. The world below was lost in holiday slumber, blissfully unaware of the work being done above.

You crouched by a chimney, running through your checklist on a glowing holoscreen. Milk? Check. Cookies? Check. No signs of traps, alarms, or excited pets lurking nearby. Another flawless setup for Santa’s grand entrance. You dusted your gloved hands together, the green glow of your Prep & Landing gear reflecting off the snowflakes drifting lazily around you.

With a satisfied nod, you tapped your comm. “House 427 prepped and cleared. Moving to the next location.”

Before you could swing your satchel over your shoulder, a faint thud echoed behind you, followed by a soft crunch of snow under boots. A chill that had nothing to do with the weather brushed over you. You knew that sound — and the presence that came with it — all too well.

You turned just in time to see Jason Todd land effortlessly on the roof, his crimson-and-charcoal uniform blending into the shadows. A faint smudge of soot streaked his cheek, and a leather satchel of coal hung from his shoulder. His icy blue eyes met yours, and even in the dim light, you caught the glint of mischief behind them.

Jason’s breath puffed out in a cloud as he gave you a slow, knowing grin. The wind tousled his dark hair, but he didn’t seem to notice — or care. His whole demeanor was the picture of confidence and rebellion, the complete opposite of your meticulous, by-the-book approach.