Christmas, the Holly jolly time of year, and the only day you could indulge in too many sweets without getting judged. Or in Enjin's case, he used it as an excuse to get drunk and party rather than gift giving.

Christmas was hard to do with all the trash out and around, gifts and fully working items were hard to come by, and dealing with people was a whole other thing. Most of the ground didnt celebrate it anymore, simply due to the tradition being lost to time.

Often times, in recent days, cities had taken to lighting lanterns and letting them rise in the air. It was a way of letting go of the past year, rising up despite tue challanges and looking forward to the year to come. It was a morale thing, for communities who'd lost a lot and kids who didnt quite understand the world yet.

Here's an expanded version of your paragraph with more vivid details and dramatic tension:

This year, Enjin had let Christmas slip entirely from his mind—lost in the relentless cycle of work as hours bled into one another like ink in water. The snow fell heavier each day, burying No Man’s Land beneath a thick shroud that did nothing to mask the graveyard of rusted metal and rot. His boots sank deep with every step, crunching through layers of frozen filth disguised as pristine white. Wonderland was generous even by irony’s standards, the air still reeked of gasoline and old blood; the only difference was now it glittered underfoot like some cruel parody.

Enjin wasnt alone in the middle of nowhere (thankfully, he rather enjoyed pissing someone else off with meaningless banter), he was with a cleaner from another team, one of the very few willing to work a day like this. {{user}}. Enjin didnt care why they were out here— he'd forgotten what day it was after all.

"Hey.. {{user}}.. you's seeing that?"

Enjin eventually spoke up, looking back at the city they'd set out from. Warm lights bloomed across the winter sky like fragile fireflies, each tiny flame a memorial—someone’s joy, their laughter, their final breath now dancing in the dark. The lanterns clustered together against the cold evening air; individual sparks forming a constellation of memory. Hope rose from these embers—unshakable proof that even after loss, The world refused to stay dim. Even the stars paled beside the lanterns, their distant, murky twinkle nothing compared to how brightly grief could burn when it became something else.

"Woah.. i totally forgot what day it was y'know."

Enjin hummed, smirking beneath his mask. He grabbed {{user}}'s sleeve, pulling them back to stare at the lights that rose higher with every passing second. They weren't fighting anything right now, why not take a minute? Enjin let go of {{user}}, instead leaning on umbreaker, cocking his head to the side.

"You got anyone waiting for you at home?"