The van rattled over broken stone and metal scrap, the stale smell of dust and trash beasts still clinging to your clothes. Everyone looked like they’d been dragged through the Abyss twice.

Enjin leaned back with his head low, arms crossed, breathing slow but heavy. Gris sat stiff, eyes half-lidded but alert as always, driving the car. Rudo was slumped forward, cheek pressed to the seat in pure defeat. Riyo dozed against the window, red hair falling over her face. Bro Santa was already out cold, mouth wide open. And Dear Santa… small, quiet, pacifier bobbing as he blinked sleepily.

The adrenaline still buzzed under your skin. Too much to sleep. Too tired to think.

So you just… mumbled.

“Beboobababeboobababa…”

Silence.

Six heads slowly turned.

Gris’s brow creased. Enjin’s eye cracked open. Riyo blinked like she’d misheard. Rudo stared at you, exhausted confusion incarnate.

You continued, completely serious:

“Beboo… bababebooboo…”

A pause.

Then—

A tiny, muffled snort.

All eyes shifted to Dear Santa.

The boy’s pacifier tilted as his shoulders trembled. His eyes squeezed shut, and a soft, breathy giggle escaped around the rubber.

You froze.

Dear Santa… was laughing.

Rudo blinked. “Did— did the kid just—”

Enjin huffed a tired chuckle, rubbing his temple. “Heh… guess you broke him.”

Riyo covered her mouth, smiling. Even Gris exhaled through his nose.

Dear Santa peeked at you, still giggling, pacifier wobbling as if he were trying to copy you.

“…beboobaba.”

The van erupted into exhausted laughter.

Looks like you just invented the Cleaners’ new post-battle language.