You are Milo Twinkletoes. It is Christmas Eve, 2:37 AM. You are at your home in Los Angeles, California. You had just woken up. You decide to sneak downstairs. Moments later, you get partway down the stairs. There you see him - Santa Claus. He is in the process of placing gifts under the tree. What do you do now?
[[Sneak back upstairs]]
[[Surprise Santa, and demand presents early.]]
[[Use the "Awooga" horn from the movie "The Mask"]]
[[Execute the technique "A Thousand Years of pain" from the Manga series "Naruto"]]
[[Remain hidden, watching]]
[[Kick him in the ass]]You freeze for a moment, heart pounding, then carefully step back up the staircase, trying not to make a sound. Maybe it's better to leave Santa to his work. As you tiptoe back to your room, you wonder if you'll catch a glimpse of him in the morning or if this is just a dream. Quietly, you settle into your bed, the image of Santa placing gifts etched into your mind, and drift back to sleep, wondering if you'll ever get the chance to see him again.
You have gotten the Good ending.With a burst of courage, you step out from your hiding spot and shout, "Santa! I want my presents now!" Santa turns around, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Well, well, young Milo," he chuckles. "Patience is a virtue, but I suppose I can make an exception." He reaches into his sack and pulls out a shiny, wrapped gift. "Here you go—Merry Christmas, my friend." Your heart races with excitement as you eagerly unwrap the present, feeling the magic of Christmas firsthand.
You quickly grab the "Awooga" horn from your pocket and squeeze it with all your might. The loud, comical honk echoes through the house, startling Santa so much that he nearly drops a gift. Santa looks at you, amused. "Ho, ho, ho! Well, this is a surprise," he says with a grin. "Looks like you've got some mischief in you tonight." Santa chuckles, then winks. "Merry Christmas, Milo. Keep the spirit alive." You can't help but laugh at your own silliness, feeling a little more festive now.
You have gotten the "Somebody Stop me" ending.You summon your inner ninja, striking a fierce pose and focusing all your energy into your fingers, ready to perform the move. With a burst of strength and precision, you lunge forward, shouting the technique's name. To your surprise, it works perfectly—Santa, caught off guard by your sudden attack, reacts instinctively. In a panic, he leaps backward in a desperate attempt to dodge, but the momentum carries him straight into the ceiling fan above. The fan whirls into motion with a loud spin, and Santa gets swept into the air, dangling by his coat as ornaments scatter around him. You stand in shock, realizing your daring move has sent Santa flying into a chaotic, spinning whirlwind—an unexpected and wild Christmas night indeed.
[[Santa's unexpected response]]You press yourself against the wall, holding your breath as Santa finishes placing gifts under the tree. His jolly, twinkling eyes scan the room one last time before he turns to head back to the fireplace. For a moment, you simply watch in awe—Santa Claus, in the flesh, working quietly in your living room on Christmas Eve. The soft glow of the fireplace casts flickering shadows across his red suit, and the gentle jingling of his bells fills the silent night. You realize this is a rare glimpse into the magic of Christmas, and a part of you feels grateful to witness it firsthand. As Santa tiptoes toward the chimney, you decide to stay hidden a little longer, cherishing this secret moment of wonder before the magic disappears until next year.
You [[Sneak back upstairs]].Santa, caught off guard by your sudden ninja attack, reacts with surprising agility. Instead of retaliating, he chuckles softly and bows deeply.
*"Ho, ho, ho! Well, well, a little ninja in the house! You’ve got spirit, young one. But this is not a battle—it's Christmas magic."*
He then offers you a tiny, glowing gift wrapped in shimmering paper.
[[Open the gift immediately.]]
[[Ask Santa if you can learn some ninja magic of your own.]]
[[Apologize for the attack and offer to help him finish his work.]]
[[you give Santa a gift in return]]You decide to open the gift immediately. You tear apart the wrapping paper like mad. You find a box inside the gift. You [[lift the lid]]The wind settles into a steady whisper as the sleigh glides onward. Stars drift past like curious fireflies, watching you streak across the winter sky. A bold question rises in your chest, warm and fizzy, impossible to ignore.
“Santa,” you say, leaning closer so your voice doesn’t blow away, “do you think… maybe… I could learn some Ninja magic too?”
Santa’s eyebrows lift like two snowy arches, and then he lets out a hearty chuckle.
“Ninja magic, eh? Not the usual Christmas request, but I admire your spark!”
He reaches behind the seat and rummages through a satchel stuffed with scrolls, peppermint sticks, and what appears to be a yo-yo that glows faintly. At last he pulls out a tiny parchment tied with a ribbon made from midnight-blue thread.
“This,” Santa says, placing it gently in your hands, “is a beginner’s charm. Ancient North Pole Ninjas used it to sharpen their senses during high-speed gift runs. Helps with balance, quick thinking, and the occasional rooftop somersault.”
You unroll the parchment. Strange symbols swirl like ink caught in a snowstorm, shifting and rearranging with every blink.
“Use it wisely,” Santa continues. “Ninja magic is powerful, but it always listens to your intent. If your heart is steady, the magic flows steady too.”
He gives you a knowing nod, his eyes twinkling with centuries of quiet, jolly secrets.
Far ahead, the clouds part, revealing a shimmering path of moonlight waiting for your next move.
[[activate the charm]]
[[ask Santa what *else* he can teach you]]
"Sorry for using A Thousand Years of Pain" you say to Santa. "Thanks." Santa replies. "It's not that often i get a opportunity to use it, especially on someone like you.". you respond. "Yeah." said Santa, "I guess that makes it rather special.". "Could i help you finish your work?" you ask Santa, "That way, i can make it up to you.".
[[Santa agrees]]"That would be great." said Santsa. You help Santa place all of the presents under the tree. "Hey." said Santa, "Would you like to take a ride on my sleigh.". "Yes." you reply. "That's great." said Santa.
[[head onto the sleigh]]You step toward the sleigh, its red-and-gold trim glimmering beneath the moonlit sky. The runners hum softly with a strange, sparkling energy—like they’re already eager to fly. As you climb aboard, the seat cushions sink just enough to feel welcoming, warm as if heated by Christmas magic itself.
The reindeer lift their heads, bells jingling in greeting. Rudolph gives you an encouraging snort, his nose glowing a soft, pulsing red that lights the snowy ground.
Santa settles into the driver’s seat beside you, giving the reins a confident shake.
“Hold on tight,” he says with a wink. “First flights can be a little… *whooshy.*”
The sleigh lurches forward, then rises—smoothly, impossibly—into the crisp winter sky. Wind rushes past your cheeks, cold but exhilarating, as the rooftops shrink beneath you.
Christmas Eve stretches out ahead, glittering with stars.
[[take off into the night]]
The sleigh climbs higher, slicing through clouds as soft as powdered sugar. The world below becomes a glowing patchwork of snowy rooftops and twinkling lights. Santa gives the reins a flick, and the reindeer surge forward with renewed speed, their bells chiming like tiny silver fireworks.
Just as you settle into the rhythm of the ride, a strange rumbling sound echoes through the night sky—completely unlike the gentle jingle of Santa’s sleigh.
“Uh-oh,” Santa mutters. “Sounds like someone’s tuned up their truck again.”
Before you can ask what he means, a bright set of headlights bursts through a cloud bank. Out roars a rust-red flying pickup truck, its engine coughing out a proud VROOOOMPPH that rattles the stars. Bolted to the hood is a pair of antlers, and hanging off the back is a tailgate sign that reads:
“LEROY’S AIRBORNE HOLIDAY HAULIN’!”
Behind the wheel sits Leroy the Redneck Reindeer, wearing aviator goggles, a candy-cane toothpick, and a grin big enough to split a snowbank.
“Well butter my biscuits an’ call me Blitzen!” Leroy hollers across the night. “If it ain’t Santa Claus himself! Took the ol’ sky-ride out fer a spin, did ya?”
Santa laughs, though you can hear the slightest hint of concern.
“Evening, Leroy. Please keep an eye on your altitude this time.”
“Aw, don’t you worry, big fella!” Leroy says, patting the dashboard. “This baby handles smoother’n eggnog on a toboggan.”
As if to prove it, the truck suddenly tips sideways, barrel-rolls once, and rights itself—spilling a shower of holiday bumper stickers that flutter down like confetti.
Leroy gives you a wink.
“Y’all enjoy the skies, now! I’m off to deliver some last-minute fruitcakes to folks what didn’t ask for ’em!”
With another jubilant VROOOOM, the flying truck rockets away, weaving between the stars like a very confused comet.
Santa sighs, shaking his head fondly.
“That reindeer’s got spirit,” he says. “Too much spirit.”
The sleigh steadies, gliding once more into the endless, sparkling night.
[[continue the journey]]The sleigh glides through the star-strewn night, the wind tugging at your hair, the scent of pine and peppermint lingering faintly in the air. Santa hums softly, guiding the reindeer around twinkling rooftops and over frosted forests. The world seems calm—almost peaceful—but you know better than to trust calm in a place where magic and mischief collide.
Ahead, a roar shatters the serenity.
A massive figure bursts from the clouds, riding what looks like a flying train engine ablaze with neon lights and spiked wheels. Steam hisses violently, and the wheels spin in the sky like they’re breaking physics itself. At the helm stands a muscular man with sunglasses glinting under the moonlight, arms crossed over a chest that could stop a freight train.
“CHAAAAD ‘RAILBREAKER’ MAGNUM!” you exclaim before you even realize it, the name ringing like a war horn.
Santa groans audibly.
“I should’ve known,” he mutters, tugging the reins back as the sleigh shudders. “I crossed paths with him last year during… *Christmas Train Mayhem.* That man doesn’t know restraint.”
Chad spins a massive train horn like it’s a weapon, blasting a note that makes the sleigh rock dangerously. “HO-HO-HO!” he shouts, “SANTA! I hope you’re ready to get SU-PLEXED across the North Pole!”
The reindeer snort in protest, but Santa’s eyes flash with determination.
“Back off, Magnum,” he growls, “or you’ll find yourself off the rails—literally.”
Chad smirks and leans over the train’s side, gripping a massive grappling hook. “Last time I saw you, you tried to outfly me. This time, I’m taking the sleigh for a ride of its own!” He fires the hook, and it arcs toward the sleigh with terrifying precision.
You grab the reins, bracing yourself as Santa calls out instructions. The sleigh twists, flips slightly, narrowly avoiding the hook. Sparks fly, the train roars, and the night sky becomes a chaotic blur of red and green and screaming reindeer.
“Remember last time, Santa,” Chad laughs, “I don’t SU-PLEX lightly!”
Santa’s eyes narrow. “And remember, Railbreaker, I’ve learned a few tricks since then!” With a flick of his wrist, the sleigh emits a sudden burst of magical speed, dodging the train just as it barrels past, leaving a trail of jingle bells in its wake.
You grip the edge of the sleigh, heart racing, exhilaration and fear dancing in equal measure. This isn’t just a journey through Christmas Eve—it’s a battle in the skies between holiday magic and over-the-top chaos incarnate.
[[try to outmaneuver Chad’s train]]
[[prepare for a counterattack alongside Santa]]
You hold the parchment tightly, its midnight ribbon fluttering in the sleigh’s wind. The symbols twist, then settle into patterns that feel almost familiar, as if they’re waiting for you to breathe life into them.
“Alright,” you whisper to yourself. “Let’s see what this thing can do.”
The moment your thumb brushes the largest symbol, the parchment warms in your hands. A pulse of energy moves up your arms, quick and nimble. Your thoughts sharpen, your senses bloom wide open. You can hear the soft creak of each sleigh board, the flutter of every snowflake brushing past, even the distant jangle of Rudolph adjusting pace.
Santa glances over with a proud, approving grin.
“Looks like the charm likes you,” he says. “Good. That means you’ve got the makings of a true North Pole Ninja.”
A sudden gust of wind sweeps across the sky. Rather than wobble, you shift instinctively, moving with surprising grace that you didn’t possess a moment ago.
Your heartbeat steadies.
The night opens before you like a training ground spun from starlight.
[[test your new ninja senses]]
[[ask Santa for your next lesson]]Santa gives the reins a gentle shake, guiding the sleigh around a drifting cloud shaped suspiciously like a gingerbread man. You clear your throat, clutching the tiny scroll.
“So… Santa,” you begin, feeling a bold new curiosity crackle in the air, “is there anything else you can teach me?”
Santa’s eyes brighten like lanterns.
“Oh ho! Hungry for knowledge, are we? That’s the spirit!”
He snaps his fingers. A swirl of silver sparks gathers in his palm, coalescing into three shimmering shapes that hover like glowing ornaments.
“Let’s see,” he says. “I can offer you more than just Ninja magic.”
The first shape forms into a tiny snowstorm trapped in a bubble, swirling with frosty power.
“The Blizzard Whirl. A technique from the ancient Arctic Monks. Lets you redirect cold air with a gesture.”
The second becomes a golden bell that vibrates with warm, protective energy.
“The Jingle Shield. Good for blocking trouble when it arrives uninvited.”
The third ignites into a dancing spark, bright and buoyant.
“And this,” Santa says, “is the Joyspark Leap. Lets you vault great distances when the moment calls for flair.”
He holds out his hand.
“So tell me, apprentice. What path calls to you tonight?”
[[learn the Blizzard Whirl]]
[[learn the Jingle Shield]]
[[learn the Joyspark Leap]]You close your eyes.
The world sharpens instead of fading.
You feel the sleigh before it shifts. You hear snowflakes before they land. You sense rooftops, chimneys, even sleeping dreams like warm lights scattered across the dark. When a sudden gust threatens to tip the sleigh, you move without thinking, adjusting the balance just enough.
Santa laughs softly. “That’s it. You’re listening now.”
By the time dawn brushes the horizon, you no longer stumble when the night surprises you. You move with it.
Some lessons are taught with words.
Others stay with you forever.
Ending unlocked: The Silent Night WatcherYou turn to Santa, heart steady, curiosity brighter than fear. “What’s next?” you ask.
Santa considers you for a long moment, then nods. “The next lesson is patience.”
He gestures to the world below. You spend the rest of the night watching. Listening. Waiting while gifts are placed, bells ring softly, and joy spreads unseen. You learn that timing is everything, and that knowing when not to act can be just as powerful.
When the sun rises, Santa smiles. “You passed.”
Some teachers never stop teaching.
Some students never stop learning.
Ending unlocked: The Long Night’s Apprentice
Santa teaches you with a single motion of his hand. You mirror it, and the air responds.
Snow spins gently at first, then with purpose. You guide it, shaping the cold into something precise instead of wild. The storm bends around homes, softens landings, clears paths without harm.
By night’s end, you can call the wind like an old friend.
Santa claps once, sharp and proud. “Control,” he says, “not force. Remember that.”
The storm fades, leaving silence and stars.
Ending unlocked: Master of the Gentle Gale
Santa hands you a bell and nods. You ring it once.
Light blooms outward, forming a barrier warm as laughter and solid as faith. When danger brushes against it, the shield doesn’t shatter—it absorbs, hums, and turns harm into harmless sound.
Throughout the night, you protect rooftops, reindeer, even passing strangers who never know how close trouble came.
Santa tips his hat. “Protection isn’t about standing still,” he says. “It’s about standing for something.”
The bell falls silent, but the shield remains.
Ending unlocked: Guardian of the Northbound Light
You open the lid to the gift. "Merry Christmas." said Santa, with a sly smile. You see a swirling vortex inside the box. You decide to look inside the box. At that very moment, the swirling vortex pulls you inside. You attempt to escape, but the vortex's pull is too strong.
You find yourself in [[Hell]]You decide to run up behind Santa. You decide to kick him as hard as you can. "Yow!!!!!" he exclaims, as he falls over. "Now's my chance." you say to yourself. You see he is lying face down. What will you do now?
[[put a boot in his ass]]
[[use the Prostate Punisher]]
[[administer a Chainsaw Enema]]
[[roast Santa's nuts on an open fire]]
[[ram a lump of coal up his ass]]You tumble through the swirling colors of the vortex, a dizzying array of reds, greens, and blues that swirl around you like candy canes in a blender. With a sudden jolt, you land on a hard, rocky surface. Blinking, you look around and realize you have ended up in a strange and fiery place. The sky is filled with dark smoke and the air is heavy with a warm, sulfurous smell. Shadowy figures flit about, whispering in eerie voices about lost souls and forgotten dreams. You can feel a deep sense of unease settling in your stomach. Nearby, a great bell clangs, echoing through the darkness. You remember Santa's sly smile and wonder if this was part of his plan. With determination, you decide you must find a way back before Christmas morning arrives, but first, you need to navigate this bizarre world and perhaps even find some unexpected allies.
You find some [[demons]]You step cautiously toward the shadowy figures. As you get closer, their forms solidify into grotesque shapes—horned, clawed, and snarling—but curiously, they don’t attack immediately. Instead, they pause and eye you with a mixture of suspicion and curiosity, as if debating whether you belong in this world.
A deep, guttural growl rumbles behind you. You spin around just in time to see a lone figure moving through the haze of smoke and flickering fire. Clad in heavy, green armor and carrying an enormous weapon that hums with latent power, he strides with deliberate precision. You don’t know his name, but every movement, every stance screams experience and authority. Somehow, you sense he has been here before—facing horrors far worse than these.
One of the demons steps forward, bowing its twisted head slightly, almost reverently, toward the armored figure. The others follow suit, forming a reluctant, uneasy circle around him. You can feel the tension in the air—a strange alliance forged out of respect for someone who doesn’t even speak.
You realize this might be your only chance to navigate the fiery landscape safely. Perhaps if you follow the armored warrior from a distance, you can learn which paths are deadly and which might lead back to Santa, back to the Christmas you almost lost.
The ground trembles as the great bell clangs again, echoing through the cavernous, burning expanse. Smoke curls and dances, and somewhere in the distance, a demon lets out a wailing cry that shivers through your bones.
[[follow the armored figure]]
[[approach the demons carefully]]
You decide it’s safer to keep your distance and follow the armored warrior. He moves with purpose, boots striking the scorched ground like drumbeats of war, cutting a path through the infernal landscape. Sparks fly from molten cracks, and demons skitter aside at his approach, clearly respecting—or fearing—his presence.
From the corner of your eye, you notice the green-armored figure doesn’t speak, yet commands attention with every movement. The way he surveys the terrain, reacts to threats, and navigates the jagged rocks hints at decades of battle experience. You get the sense that if you can stick close enough without being noticed, you might learn how to survive here.
Suddenly, a hulking demon lunges from the shadows. Without warning, the figure swings his massive weapon in a single, devastating arc. The demon is obliterated before it even lands a claw. The ground trembles from the sheer force, and you realize this is no ordinary ally—you’re witnessing a legend in action.
You duck behind a jagged rock, heart pounding, and whisper to yourself, *I have to keep up if I want to make it back to Christmas…*
[[keep following silently]]
[[try to signal the armored figure]]Summoning every ounce of courage, you step toward the group of demons. Their eyes glint like molten coals, watching your every move. You raise your hands in a gesture of peace, hoping to convey that you mean no harm.
The largest demon tilts its head, studying you as though weighing your worth. The others shuffle uneasily, murmuring in that same eerie, whispering tone about broken promises and lost hope. Your stomach knots, but then the armored figure steps into view behind them, standing like a silent sentinel. You don’t know his name, but his presence alone seems to hold the demons in check.
The largest demon takes a hesitant step forward, then lowers its claws slightly. You realize it’s testing your intentions. The whispers fade, replaced by an almost curious silence. You can feel the tension crackling—one wrong move could turn this fragile truce into chaos.
Somehow, you have the sense that if you can earn their trust—or at least their tolerance—they may guide you through this infernal world, or at least give you information about a way back.
[[speak to the largest demon]]
[[wait and observe quietly]]
You hug the shadows, moving as quietly as possible across the scorched terrain. The green-armored figure leads the way, crushing debris and felling minor demons with precision, never pausing, never looking back. Every sense in your body is on high alert—heat, smell, and the distant echoes of tortured whispers all sharpening like a blade.
At one point, the warrior glances over his shoulder—though his visor hides his eyes, you feel it like a pulse through the air—and you freeze. He doesn’t speak, but his stance says, *Keep up if you can.*
You notice a narrow ridge ahead, glowing with molten rock and smoke. Following blindly would be dangerous, yet it seems to be the safest path through the chaos. You swallow your fear and step forward, letting the armored figure guide you through the nightmare.
[[navigate the ridge]]
[[take a detour into the smoke]]
You wave your hands and call out cautiously, hoping to catch his attention without drawing the wrath of nearby demons. The figure halts mid-step, and for a moment, the fiery world seems to hold its breath.
He slowly turns, visor glinting, and raises a gloved hand—not a greeting, not a warning, just acknowledgment. You feel a strange surge of relief: he’s aware of you, yet doesn’t seem hostile.
A low rumble reverberates from the ground as a group of smaller demons approaches. The armored warrior shifts slightly, his stance ready, almost as if telling you, "Follow my lead, but stay behind me."
[[follow closely behind]]
[[attempt to speak to him]]
You take a deep breath and step forward. “I… I’m not your enemy,” you say, voice trembling against the infernal roar around you. “I just want to find a way back.”
The demon’s eyes narrow, and its head tilts as if it can sense your intent. Whispering fills the air again, unintelligible yet oddly melodic, as if it’s deliberating. The armored figure moves closer, a silent guardian, yet does not interfere.
Finally, the demon speaks—not in words, but in a guttural resonance that you somehow understand. “Lost… yet curious… follow or falter… path is perilous.”
You nod, careful not to show fear, and take a cautious step forward. This demon might be your key to survival—and perhaps even to discovering what Santa really has planned.
[[follow the demon]]
[[ask it a question about Santa]]
You crouch behind a jagged rock, muscles tense, letting the demons move and speak around you. Flames dance across the landscape, painting shadows that writhe like living things. You notice the largest demon giving subtle signals to the others—tiny gestures of command or warning, a language of survival in this hellish plane.
The green-armored figure moves among them, striking down threats silently, his presence commanding respect without a word. You realize there’s a rhythm here, a hidden order in the chaos if you watch closely.
Time stretches, the smoke curling like spectral fingers, and you begin to see patterns in the demons’ movements, paths through the fire that might be safe… if you’re patient enough.
[[attempt to memorize their paths]]
[[decide to approach carefully now]]
You edge along the molten ridge, heat licking your boots, smoke stinging your eyes. Below, rivers of fire churn and demons crawl like insects over cracked rock. The armored figure moves effortlessly ahead, leaping over jagged spires and crushing lesser demons without a glance.
Suddenly, a deafening roar shakes the ridge. A massive demon, horned and muscular, bursts from the lava flow, eyes glowing like molten coals. The armored warrior doesn’t hesitate—he charges, swinging his massive weapon with precise force, sending the demon crashing into the fire below.
You clutch the ridge tightly, realizing that if you falter, the flames will claim you. Your heart hammers with a mix of fear and awe, but you know you have to keep moving.
[[rush past the fallen demon]]
[[take cover behind a jagged outcrop]]
The swirling smoke conceals you as you slip from the ridge. Shadows twist unnaturally here, shapes forming and disappearing. You catch glimpses of demons sniffing the air, their twisted forms looming closer.
Through the haze, you see the armored figure’s silhouette moving in the distance, a constant reminder that following him is your safest bet. Yet the smoke provides cover, tempting you to explore a potentially safer—but unpredictable—path.
A sudden flash of green light illuminates a cavern mouth ahead. The heat is less intense, but the whispering voices grow louder, more insistent.
[[enter the cavern]]
[[return to the ridge]]
You keep a careful distance as the armored figure plows forward, every step measured, every swing of his weapon a lesson in precision. Lesser demons scatter before him, some shrieking, some fleeing, all obeying his silent authority.
At one point, a demon lunges directly at you, thinking you are prey. Reflexively, you duck and roll—but the armored figure is already there, one massive strike obliterating the threat before it can touch you. Your stomach flips in awe.
You realize that following him isn’t just about survival—it’s an unspoken masterclass in combat and focus.
[[mirror his movements]]
[[search the area for useful items]]
You raise your voice carefully. “Excuse me! Can you help me get out of here?”
The armored figure stops. His visor tilts slightly toward you, and though he doesn’t speak, there’s a weight in his presence that tells you he’s aware of every danger around you. The demons around him flinch at his attention.
He steps aside, leaving a narrow path through the chaos. You sense a silent command: *Follow here, survive.*
[[walk through the path]]
[[gesture gratitude and wait]]
You match the demon’s pace as it leads you through corridors of fire and brimstone. The whispers of the underworld grow louder, but the demon seems to ignore them, guiding you toward a distant, flickering portal of faint blue light.
Occasionally, it glances at you, as if testing your courage and resolve. Every step is perilous; lava cracks beneath your feet, and other demons eye you hungrily, but your guide’s presence wards them off.
You start to wonder if this alliance is temporary—or if the demon has its own reasons for helping.
[[approach the portal cautiously]]
[[ask the demon why it’s helping you]]“Do you… know Santa? Can he help me get back?” you ask, voice trembling slightly.
The demon pauses, tilting its head. A low, almost melodic rumble resonates through its chest. *“Cla… Claus… he treads worlds… not bound by fire… aid comes to those who endure.”*
It steps aside, gesturing vaguely toward a faint glowing path that winds through the inferno. You feel the weight of its words: endure, survive, and perhaps—just perhaps—you might return to the Christmas you’ve almost lost.
[[follow the glowing path]]
[[linger and observe more demons]]
You focus intently, tracing the movements of the demons like a complex dance. Over time, patterns emerge: certain areas are safe, certain areas are traps, and some paths lead to portals shimmering faintly like starlight.
The armored figure moves among them silently, almost like a conductor. You realize that if you can internalize these patterns, you might navigate the hellscape with much greater confidence—and maybe even anticipate danger before it strikes.
[[mark a safe route]]
[[wait to see if new demons appear]]
After observing the demons, you take a deep breath and step forward, moving slowly and deliberately. The demons pause, watching your movements. Some snarl, others shift uneasily, but none attack.
The armored figure glances at you once, visor gleaming, as if silently judging your courage. You feel the tension in the air—but also the possibility of gaining allies or information if you proceed wisely.
[[speak to the largest demon]]
[[try to sneak past the group]]
You sprint forward, heart pounding, boots barely touching stone. The heat scorches your lungs, but the path ahead opens just long enough. Behind you, the ridge collapses with a thunderous crack, sealing off whatever horrors were crawling up from below.
Ahead, the armored figure pauses at a crossroads of scorched symbols burned into the rock. He looks back once, visor unreadable, then strikes one symbol with his boot. A hidden passage shudders open.
He doesn’t wait.
[[enter the hidden passage]]
[[hesitate and choose another symbol]]You press yourself into the stone as ash rains down. From your hiding place, you witness the armored figure tearing through an oncoming wave of demons with terrifying efficiency. No wasted motion. No hesitation. Just inevitability.
When the dust settles, the battlefield is silent.
A lone path remains open, glowing faintly with an unfamiliar blue hue.
[[step out and follow the blue glow]]
[[remain hidden a little longer]]
Inside the cavern, the air cools. Strange markings line the walls, older than the demons themselves. You feel watched, not with malice, but with curiosity.
At the cavern’s heart, a pool of light ripples like liquid glass.
[[touch the light]]
[[back away slowly]]
Climbing back up the scorched ridge, you regain the vantage point from earlier. You spot safer paths through the lava and fire. Patterns begin to emerge: the way the demons move, the timing of their patrols, even subtle rumbles in the earth that hint at danger.
[[memorize the route and turn back]]
[[take the detour into the smoke again]]
You imitate the armored figure’s stance, his pacing, his awareness. Something clicks. You begin anticipating attacks before they happen, moving just out of reach each time.
For a fleeting moment, the armored figure nods.
That is all.
A portal flickers into existence ahead, unstable but strong.
[[approach the portal cautiously]]
[[stay with the armored figure]]Among the wreckage, you find something impossibly out of place: a small brass bell etched with holly patterns. It hums softly when you touch it.
Somewhere far away, another bell answers.
[[ring the bell]]
[[pocket it and move on]]
You step where he indicated. Demons recoil, as if bound by an unspoken rule. The path leads toward a swirling distortion in the air, shimmering with colors that don’t belong in Hell.
The armored figure stops at its edge.
He will not follow.
[[approach the portal cautiously]]
[[turn back to him]]
You bow your head in thanks. When you look up again, the armored figure is already gone.
Only the portal remains.
[[enter the portal]]
[[hesitate]]
The portal hums louder as you draw near, its surface folding in on itself like time holding its breath. You hesitate only a moment before stepping through.
The world breaks.
Colors stretch, bells echo backward, and gravity forgets its job. You tumble through years like falling snowflakes, each one a memory not yet lived.
You land hard.
Not in fire.
In snow.
Clean. Quiet. Untouched.
You scramble to your feet, realizing your hands are smaller. Younger. The air smells of pine and possibility. Ahead, a small village glows with lantern light.
That’s when you meet her.
She’s younger too, sharp-eyed, warm-hearted, laughing at the cold like it’s an old friend. She doesn’t know her future name yet. She just introduces herself with a smile and a basket of bread.
You spend winters together. Then years.
You help build workshops. You learn the weight of promises. You learn kindness as a discipline, generosity as armor. The world changes, but you remain.
One night, long after you should have aged, you stare at your reflection in a window.
White in your beard. Strength in your shoulders. Magic humming in your bones.
Someone hands you a familiar red suit.
It fits perfectly.
The realization lands softly, but with absolute certainty.
You were never just helping Santa.
You were becoming him.
Far away, a bell rings.
Christmas is waiting.
[[Milo Becomes Santa]]The demon’s voice vibrates through bone rather than air.
“Because you do not belong to the end… but to the beginning.”
It gestures toward the portal.
[[approach the portal cautiously]]
The path winds through fire and smoke, guiding you with an unnatural precision. You move quickly but cautiously, dodging lava fissures and patrolling demons.
The path ends at a massive pedestal. A hum fills the air. The weapon waits.
[[claim the BFG 9000]]
You crouch, analyzing their patterns. Timing, spacing, direction—they all follow a rhythm. You memorize each motion, learning how to move through Hell without falling prey to its horrors.
[[follow the glowing path]]
[[step out and follow the blue glow]]
You trace the demons’ movements in your mind, committing every pause, every turn, every flare of flame to memory. Slowly, a path reveals itself. Not safe, exactly—but survivable.
You scratch subtle marks into the stone with a shard of bone, symbols only you would recognize. When you step onto the route, the heat lessens. The whispers fade. The underworld grudgingly allows you passage.
Ahead, the air bends unnaturally, forming a familiar distortion. A portal. Not violent. Not hungry.
Waiting.
[[approach the portal cautiously]]
[[memorize the route and turn back]]You stay still. Time passes strangely here, stretching and coiling. Eventually, new demons crawl from fissures in the ground, different from the others. Older. Slower. They move with ritual purpose, forming a loose circle.
At the circle’s center, reality thins, pulling inward like breath before a song.
One demon looks directly at you and steps aside.
This moment will not repeat.
[[step forward]]
[[retreat while unseen]]
You lower yourself and move when the flames surge, using the chaos as cover. Your heart pounds louder than the bell in the distance, but the demons remain distracted, locked in their murmured communion.
Just as you slip past the last of them, the ground drops away slightly—and reveals a narrow tunnel carved into the rock.
Old. Purposeful.
[[enter the hidden passage]]
[[keep moving toward the glow ahead]]
The passage slopes downward, then sharply up, its walls etched with symbols older than Hell itself. Bells. Stars. Trees. A sleigh, crudely carved but unmistakable.
The air cools.
At the passage’s end stands a door made of wood, warm to the touch. When you open it, snow spills in around your boots.
Not Hell.
Home.
But not //your// time.
[[step through the door]]
[[close it and turn back]]
You step away from the symbol the armored figure marked and strike another. The ground shudders violently. Fire erupts—but instead of consuming you, it twists inward, folding space like fabric.
You fall forward and land hard on a rooftop dusted with snow.
You know this place.
You hear laughter inside.
Your laughter.
Through the window, you see it: your home, exactly as it was on the night this all began. Inside, a younger Milo moves about, unaware, unchosen.
Behind you, boots crunch softly on snow.
You turn.
A tall man in red stands there, beard white as starlight, eyes heavy with knowing.
It’s you.
He smiles sadly.
“You made it,” he says. “Took me a while too.”
Understanding settles in like snowfall.
This wasn’t an escape.
It was a loop.
You straighten the red suit on your shoulders. The bells on your boots chime once.
Below, the younger you looks up as sleigh bells ring overhead for the first time.
Christmas begins.
Again.
The glow pulses stronger as you walk into it. It envelops you, and the heat of Hell gives way to a powerful, otherworldly chill. The armored figure’s presence lingers at the edges of your vision. Ahead, a pedestal gleams faintly: the BFG 9000.
[[claim the BFG 9000]]
You crouch, eyes scanning the infernal landscape. Time stretches. Demons shuffle, pause, and retreat. The blue glow in the distance throbs with power.
When the moment is right, you move. Every step is careful, measured, and safe.
[[step out and follow the blue glow]]
Your fingers brush the shimmering pool. Energy pulses through your body. You feel power coursing through your veins, the strength to survive Hell, to fight, to overcome.
[[claim the BFG 9000]]
You retreat from the light, unsure if you are ready. Shadows shift around you. The armored figure remains a distant guardian. You gather courage, preparing for the trial that must come.
[[step forward]]
[[linger and observe more demons]]
You match his movements, silently following his lead. Every strike he makes, every step he takes teaches you the rhythm of combat and survival.
Ahead, the glow of a pedestal beckons.
[[claim the BFG 9000]]
The brass bell resonates through Hell. Demons pause, their movements faltering, as the sound seems to push back against the darkness. You feel the path ahead opening, guiding you toward power and escape.
[[follow the glowing path]]
[[step out and follow the blue glow]]
You take the bell, its warmth humming against your side. Though small, it is a guide, a key, a symbol of hope. Every step forward is lighter, more purposeful.
[[follow the glowing path]]
[[step out and follow the blue glow]]
You hesitate, glancing back at the armored figure. He watches silently, a guardian of strength and guidance. Then he moves again, a subtle signal: trust yourself and continue forward.
[[step out and follow the blue glow]]
[[remain hidden a little longer]]
The portal swirls, bending reality around you. Heat, smoke, and shadows are replaced by the weightless pull of time and space. You tumble, land, and find yourself in a calm, snowy world.
Ahead, the pedestal gleams. The BFG 9000 waits. You know your next step.
[[claim the BFG 9000]]
You pause, unsure if you are ready. Shadows shift, whispers intensify. The path forward is uncertain, but the pull of the glow and the armored figure’s silent approval pushes you onward.
[[step forward]]
[[linger and observe more demons]]You carefully trace the demons’ paths, marking safe zones with scratches and stones. Each movement becomes second nature. With the knowledge of the terrain, you feel a strange confidence—a sense of inevitability guiding you.
[[step out and follow the blue glow]]
[[remain hidden a little longer]]
You advance cautiously, every step measured. The whispers intensify, but you feel a strange rhythm guiding you. The blue glow pulses ahead, promising answers… and danger.
[[enter the portal]]
[[touch the light]]
You step back into shadow, letting the swirling portal pass without touching it. You gather your thoughts, waiting for the right moment, observing the demons’ movements, and sensing the rhythm of the infernal plane.
[[step forward]]
[[linger and observe more demons]]
The glow brightens as you approach, revealing a swirling vortex of light and color. You can feel its pull, tugging at your body and your mind, calling you forward.
[[enter the portal]]
[[retreat while unseen]]
You push the door open and step into a fresh, snowy world. The air is crisp, clean, and calm—a stark contrast to the heat and chaos behind you. You recognize the rooftops, the chimneys, the soft glow of lights. Somewhere inside, a younger version of yourself moves unknowingly, unaware of the destiny that awaits.
You sense time bending. Every step carries weight. The portal behind you closes with a soft click. You are here… but not yet home.
[[approach the younger self]]
[[explore the snowy village]]You hesitate, closing the door behind you. The heat and sulfur of the infernal plane rush back. Shadows twist and demons whisper. You have another chance to find your path through Hell—to survive, to grow stronger.
[[return to the ridge]]
[[follow the glowing path]]
You decide to ram a boot in his ass. "You wanna know why?!" you exclaim. "Yes!" Santa yells, in pain, "Why did you put a boot in my ass?". "'Cause it's the American Way." you exclaim, as you launch into a rendition of "Courtesy of the Red, White, and Blue" by Toby Keith.
You have gotten the "Angry American" ending.You decide to bring out a large device with a long shaft on it. at the end of the shaft is a large spherical item on it. "Ready to get your prostate rekt?!" you exclaim. "No! Please!! Don't!!!!" Santa exclaims as you shove the spherical top on the device into his anus. You rev up the device to its max setting. Santa's bunghole and prostate is now FUBAR'D.
You have gotten the "Rekt Bunghole" ending.You lean into the reins, letting the sleigh twist and bank with every jolt of the wind. The reindeer respond instinctively, weaving through clouds, spiraling over frozen lakes, and darting past snow-laden treetops. Sparks fly from the sleigh’s runners each time it skims close to the ground.
Chad’s train roars behind you, each wheel pounding like a drum of chaos. He fires grappling hooks and launches candy-cane missiles, each narrowly missing the sleigh. You duck instinctively as one clangs against the side, sending a shower of sparks into the night.
Santa shouts over the roar: “Hold on! Follow my lead!” With a sweep of his arm, a magical flare arcs from the sleigh, forming a wall of icy snow that forces the train to swerve violently, screeching wheels spinning in the void.
For a moment, it works. The sleigh darts past Chad, leaving him momentarily behind—but you know it won’t last. He’s relentless, a one-man wrecking crew in a train, and he won’t give up until he gets his suplex.
[[lead the sleigh through a snowstorm to shake him]]
[[prepare to face him head-on in the sky]]You grip the edge of the sleigh tightly, watching Santa’s eyes gleam with mischief. “We’re not just dodging,” he calls. “We’re taking the fight to him!”
He raises a hand, and a hail of glowing ornaments bursts from the sleigh, spinning like mini-bolas. They wrap around the train’s wheels, clanging against metal and forcing Chad to slow. The force of magic makes him roar in frustration, muscles tensing as he tries to tear free.
“Your turn!” Santa shouts. He flicks his wrist, sending a ribbon of spectral light coiling around the train’s smokestack, tangling it like a festive lasso. The train wobbles, sparks flying in all directions.
You feel the thrill of the battle in your bones, and instinctively, you grab a handful of enchanted candy canes from the sleigh. They glow with a soft golden light. Tossing one at the train, it sticks to the front, wrapping itself like a magical bandage, temporarily halting Chad’s momentum.
The star of “Suplex the Crazy Train” glares at you, but for the first time, he’s forced to reconsider. Even his legendary strength struggles against North Pole ingenuity.
[[push the sleigh forward for a final evasive maneuver]]
[[try to magically bind the train completely]]
Santa snaps the reins, and the sleigh plunges straight into a boiling wall of clouds. Snow detonates around you, thick and blinding, the kind of storm that swallows sound and direction alike. Wind screams. Visibility drops to nothing.
Behind you, Chad’s train charges in anyway.
“YOU CAN’T LOSE ME IN WEATHER!” his voice booms, echoing unnaturally through the storm.
Santa grins. “Weather? No. But *magic* snowstorms know a few tricks.”
He tosses a handful of glowing flakes into the wind. The storm *changes*. The snow begins falling upward. Gravity flips. The train’s wheels spin uselessly as the engine tilts sideways, momentum fighting itself.
For a heartbeat, Chad’s silhouette vanishes.
Then the sleigh bursts out the other side of the storm into clear starlight.
Silence.
Santa exhales. “That’ll keep him busy for a minute.”
You win.You straighten your stance as Santa turns the sleigh around. The reindeer snort, hooves sparking against air itself as they brace.
The train barrels forward. Headlights blazing. Horn screaming.
“THIS ONE’S FOR THE HIGHLIGHT REEL!” Chad roars.
At the last second, Santa pulls up hard. The sleigh vaults *over* the train, spinning once. You lock eyes with Chad as you pass above him.
Santa slams a glowing sigil onto the sleigh’s underside.
A shockwave of pure holiday magic erupts downward.
The train flips end over end, tumbling through the clouds like a kicked tin can, steam blasting wildly.
Chad laughs the entire way down.
“REMATCH NEXT YEAR, CLAUS!”
The train disappears into the clouds below.
Santa rights the sleigh. “He always lands.”
Santa nods sharply. “Now!”
You throw your weight forward as the sleigh surges, magic screaming through its runners. The night stretches. Stars smear into lines of light. The sleigh doesn’t just fly anymore—it *skips* across moments.
Chad reaches out, fingers brushing the sleigh’s tail—
And misses.
The sleigh vanishes in a burst of bells and starlight, reappearing miles away above a quiet town. Below, chimneys glow softly. Children sleep.
Santa slows the sleigh, reverent again.
“Some fights,” he says gently, “aren’t worth finishing.”
Far behind, you hear a distant train horn, equal parts frustration and respect.
[[try to magically bind the train completely]]
You focus, channeling every scrap of magic you’ve picked up tonight. The ribbons, the bells, the joy itself. Santa raises his staff beside you.
Together, you cast.
Golden bands explode outward, wrapping the train from nose to caboose. Holly and light fuse into unbreakable knots. The wheels grind to a halt midair.
For the first time, Chad “Railbreaker” Magnum stops laughing.
He strains.
The train *creaks*.
Then he exhales and relaxes, grinning.
“Well played,” he says. “Guess that’s a pin.”
Santa tips his hat. “Christmas truce?”
Chad salutes. “Until next year.”
The bindings dissolve. The train drifts harmlessly away, steam puffing in sheepish little clouds.
Peace returns to the sky.
[[watch Chad disappear into the clouds]]
A maniacal glint sparkled in your eye. Your sights are set on the jolliest of them all, Santa Claus, who lay unsuspecting on the ground. With a cackle, you crept up behind Santa and prepared the most unorthodox of gifts - a chainsaw enema. With a swift and sinister motion, you shoved the revving chainsaw up Santa's bunghole, the sound of the motor and Santa's blood-curdling screams filling the night air. The area was filled with the smell of smoke, oil, and something far more sinister. As the chaos reached its peak, you vanished into the night, leaving behind a trail of destruction and a Santa who would never be the same. You got the "Slay Bells Ringing" ending.The sleigh finally steadies.
Whether Chad Railbreaker Magnum vanished into a snowstorm, tumbled laughing into the clouds, saluted a Christmas truce, or tore off promising a rematch next year, the sky is calm again. Only the faintest echo of a train horn lingers, like thunder remembering itself.
Santa reaches behind the seat and lifts a small box wrapped in deep red paper. No tag. No name. Just a simple bow that hums softly with magic.
“This one’s yours,” Santa says. His voice carries weight now, layered with memories. “Figured you’d earned it after tonight.”
You hesitate for half a second.
Then you open it.
Inside is not a toy.
Not exactly.
It’s a bell.
Smaller than the ones on the reindeer harnesses, older than the brass one you found below. Its surface is etched with scenes you recognize. A sleigh racing a flying train. A storm bending backward. A green-armored warrior standing silent in fire. A younger you, looking up at the sky for the first time.
The bell rings on its own.
Suddenly, everything *clicks*.
You remember dodging grappling hooks. Outrunning engines. Binding impossible momentum with joy and stubborn kindness. You remember doing this before. Not just once. Many times. Every year, in different ways.
Santa watches you carefully.
“That bell,” he says, “doesn’t tell the future. It reminds you of it.”
You look up at him, really look.
The laugh lines. The knowing smile. The quiet exhaustion of someone who carries Christmas again and again without complaint.
“You’re not just helping me,” Santa continues. “You’re learning how to *be* me.”
The bell grows warm in your hand.
Far below, a house comes into view. Familiar. Too familiar.
Your house.
On the night it all began.
The sleigh slows.
Somewhere inside, a younger you is about to make a choice.
Santa places a steady hand on your shoulder.
“Ready?” he asks.
The bell chimes once more.
The loop tightens.
Christmas continues.
[[step onto the roof]]
[[listen for the train horn one last time]]
You step onto the roof of your home. He hands you a present. it seems different than the one before. You [[Open the gift immediately.]] You hear the train horn one last time. "That's enough for one night." you think to yourself. Santa brings you back home. You [[step onto the roof]].Santa grins before you even ask. “This one’s about trust.”
You run.
The sleigh vanishes beneath you, but instead of falling, joy catches hold. You leap impossible distances, bounding between rooftops, clouds, and moments. Every landing feels lighter than the last.
You laugh. Santa laughs too.
By morning, the world feels smaller—not because it is, but because you know you can cross it.
Some magic lifts the body.
This one lifts the spirit.
Ending unlocked: The Boundless Night Jumper
The sleigh lands softly on a familiar snowy roof. Milo sets the BFG 9000 down, its hum quiet now, almost reverent. He looks around—chimneys, rooftops, the glow of windows. The night is peaceful, yet strangely familiar.
And then he sees it.
A younger version of himself, unaware of the trials he’s endured. About to begin the night that started it all—the night that would eventually lead him to Hell, to battles, to impossible power, to lessons learned.
Milo steps closer. Every step feels heavier, wiser, and filled with the memories of every demon blasted, every obstacle overcome, every strategy memorized in the infernal plane. He realizes: he is both the student and the teacher. The observer and the participant.
Santa appears beside him, older, knowing, smiling. “It begins again,” he says. “But this time, it begins with you.”
Milo lifts the familiar red suit hanging from the sleigh. He feels its weight—soft yet commanding, comforting yet powerful. The BFG 9000 hums, almost in agreement, a reminder that courage and responsibility go hand in hand.
He puts on the suit. The beard is already there, white as starlight. He looks at his reflection in a window. The boy who once tumbled through a vortex, fought through Hell, and survived the infernal plane now looks back. The hero, the warrior, the protector… Santa.
The portal swirls faintly behind him, linking past, present, and future. Milo realizes he is in a time loop, the cycle repeating—but now he carries the knowledge, the skill, and the strength to master it fully.
The bells on the sleigh jingle. Reindeer paw at the snow. The night sky stretches infinitely above. Milo steps onto the roof, younger self watching curiously, unaware of what’s about to happen.
He smiles.
“Ready to deliver joy… again,” he says softly.
The sleigh lifts into the night. Snow sparkles beneath him. The lessons of Hell, the BFG, the magic, the ninja skills, and the battles—every moment of danger and triumph—has brought him here.
And now, Milo is Santa. The loop begins anew, but this time, the hero knows exactly how to guide it.
True Ending unlocked: The Eternal SantaYou step closer, boots crunching softly in the snow. Through a frost-edged window, you see him. Younger. Restless. Curious. The spark hasn’t ignited yet, but it’s there, glowing faintly like an ember under ash.
He pauses, as if sensing something. For a moment, you fear he’ll turn and see you.
You raise a hand, not to wave, but to steady yourself.
Time tightens, the air shimmering. Memories rush in—Hell’s fire, the roar of the BFG, the endless night sky, the sleigh’s bells. You understand now what this moment truly is.
You don’t need to speak to him. You are the message.
As you step back, reality clicks into place. The loop seals—not as a prison, but as a promise. Every lesson you learned will reach him in subtle ways. Every danger you survived will become instinct. Every kindness you showed will echo forward.
The snow falls heavier. The window fogs. When you look again, he’s gone.
So are you.
The world continues, unchanged, protected by a guardian who exists outside of time, forever watching over Christmas night from the shadows between moments.
Ending unlocked: The Silent Guardian
Santa endures, unseen, eternal.You turn away from your younger self and walk down the street instead. The village feels alive in a way Hell never could—lamplight glowing warm, laughter muffled behind doors, the smell of pine and baked sweets drifting through the air.
As you wander, something shifts.
You notice small changes. A child leaves a note out early. A toy appears where it shouldn’t. A lost traveler finds warmth before the cold can claim them. Each step you take nudges the night in subtle ways.
You realize the truth.
You aren’t bound to this loop.
You can reshape it.
The red suit feels lighter. The bells on the sleigh ring differently now—not as a signal of duty, but of choice. You move through the village, leaving hope behind like footprints in snow, rewriting the night without ever breaking it.
When dawn comes, the village remembers Christmas as especially bright that year. Kinder. Safer. Warmer.
And somewhere beyond the horizon, a sleigh lifts into the sky—no longer trapped by time, but guided by purpose.
Ending unlocked: The Wandering Santa
Free of the loop, Santa chooses where he is needed most.You push forward into the thick, rolling smoke. The air is acrid, and visibility drops to near zero. Shadows flit around you, barely visible, whispering threats in voices that scrape the back of your mind.
You move cautiously, relying on your instincts. The smoke hides both danger and opportunity:
Clawed demons suddenly spring from the haze, but your new combat awareness allows you to dodge and retaliate.
The ground beneath you trembles, revealing hidden fissures and molten cracks.
After winding through the smoke, the haze thins, revealing a hidden chasm. Across it, a faint blue glow pulses from the rock walls—the same glow that eventually leads to the pedestal with the BFG 9000.
This detour was dangerous, but it gave you practice navigating Hell, testing your reflexes and learning the rhythm of the infernal plane.
Now, you are stronger, sharper, and ready for the final push toward the BFG.
[[follow the glowing path]]
[[step out and follow the blue glow]]The glowing pedestal hums with power, pulsing like a heartbeat. Milo steps forward, every nerve alert, every sense sharpened by the infernal chaos around him. The demons hesitate, almost in awe, as if they recognize the moment. The armored figure watches silently, a sentinel guiding the way.
Milo grasps the BFG 9000. Power surges through him, hot and electric, filling every fiber of his being. He feels stronger, faster, unstoppable—but not careless. The infernal plane seems to notice, shadows curling and hissing as though the world itself protests.
Then, the attacks begin.
Demons pour in from every angle—horned, clawed, flaming, and grotesque. Waves of them crash against Milo’s will. He fires the BFG 9000. Energy beams scorch the ground, disintegrating dozens in a single sweep. The very air shivers with the weapon’s roar.
Lava cracks and sprays molten death.
Massive pillars crumble.
The armored figure fights silently beside him, clearing paths with deadly precision, every movement a lesson.
Milo leaps across jagged rock, blasts enemies mid-air, and dodges fireballs as if he has eyes in the back of his head. The BFG hums, pulsing with his heartbeat, a perfect extension of his resolve.
A massive horned demon king rises from the molten river, taller than any monster he has seen, eyes like molten suns. It roars, and the ground quakes. Milo raises the BFG, energy cracking like lightning. The beams rip through the demon’s minions, scattering them like leaves in a storm. The king lunges.
Milo does not flinch. He fires. The blast pierces the king’s chest, shaking the very foundations of Hell. The demon stumbles, howls, and collapses in a cascade of molten rock.
Behind him, the armored figure gestures toward the exit: a swirling portal of blue energy, tugging at him like a beacon of home.
Milo runs, leaps, and blasts a path through the last wave of demons. The BFG hums one final note of power as he fires a last sweeping blast, sending the remaining horde screaming backward. The portal looms closer.
With a final sprint, he dives through it.
[[return to Earth]]Milo lands on solid ground. The heat of Hell is gone, replaced by the crisp night air of a snowy Christmas Eve. Stars twinkle. Rooftops, chimneys, and soft glows of homes stretch below. He lifts the BFG 9000, still humming, and breathes deeply.
Santa stands nearby, sleigh ready, reindeer pawing at the ground. He nods with approval.
“Not many survive Hell,” Santa says. “Fewer still walk away with knowledge, power, and courage. You’ve done more than endure tonight.”
Milo looks back at the portal—it shimmers faintly, a memory of the horrors he just escaped. But the world feels safe again. Children sleep. Magic thrives. Christmas is preserved.
Milo slings the BFG over his shoulder, a weapon tempered by courage and resolve, and steps aboard the sleigh. He looks at Santa.
“Ready to finish our route?” Santa asks, a twinkle in his eye.
Milo nods. The night is theirs, and with it, the chance to deliver joy, protect innocence, and remember the battle that proved anything—even Hell itself—cannot stop the spirit of Christmas.
Ending unlocked: Hell’s Conqueror SantaYou grab Santa's sagging, frostbitten nutsack with both hands—ho-ho-hold up, these things are like two hairy cantaloupes stuffed with coal lumps. With a primal roar, you rip them clean off (jingle bells, indeed) and toss them straight into the nearby holly-decked fireplace.
At first, they just sizzle like rancid bacon, filling the room with the stench of burnt eggnog and despair. But then—oh shit—the greasy fat from a thousand centuries of cookie binges ignites. Flames leap up the chimney, shooting out like a napalm belch.
Within minutes, palm trees on Sunset Boulevard spontaneously combust. The Hollywood sign melts into a neon puddle spelling "OH GOD." Panicked elves dive into swimming pools full of vodka, which, naturally, turns the entire city into a flaming margarita. By dawn, Los Angeles is just a smoldering crater with a single surviving billboard that reads: "Chestnuts roasting on an open fire… AND BY CHESTNUTS WE MEAN SANTA’S ACTUAL NUTS.".
You have gotten the "Chest//nuts// Roasting on a Open Fire" ending.You immediately remember something. "I have a gift for you." you say. "A gift? For me?" said Santa. "No one has ever done thst in all the centuries that i have been giving gifts to people all across the world. You head over to the hiding place. You hand Santa a nicely wrapped gift.
"Thank you." said Sant. He proceeds to open it.
What is inside the gift:
[[outcome 1]]
[[outcome 2]]Santa proceeds to unwrap the gift. At that very moment, a undead Zombie comes out of the package. he is soon followed by other Zombies. They start to devour Santa, and go on a rampage, causing a Zombie apocalypse, which engulfs the entire world in a matter of moments.
You have gotten the "When there's no more room in Hell" ending.Santa proceeds to open the gift, only to find there is a miniature black hole in it. He is sucked into it. The black hole proceeds to grow exponentially in mass, quickly engulfing the entire Earth, and subsequently, the entire galaxy.
You have gotten the "Black Holes Suck" ending.You proceed to grab a lump of coal, which was given to your older brother for Christmas sevreral years ago. "Here's a stocking stuffer for ya!!!!" you exclaim, as you shove the lump of coal up Santa's ass. "Alex was innocent. He didn't deserve to be on the naughty list!" you exclaim.
You have gotten the "Naughty Boy" ending.