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It was snowing for Christmas. Klee looked up at the fat white flakes falling down, stark against the black sky and the warm light of the street lamps. It was beautiful, it was magical, it was just like Christmas should be.
She shouldered her backpack, grabbed the lead on her sled, and jumped off the porch into the snow.
Normally the security detail that guarded the Prime Minister’s residence would have stopped Klee from leaving the residence grounds in the middle of the night. But the security detail didn’t know about the gap in the wrought iron fence that surrounded the grounds. Klee crawled into the hedge and carefully guided her sled through the gap in the fence. Once through she checked to make sure her load of presents was still secure, before venturing out into the quiet street.
The snow was up to her knees, but she pushed her way to the first house. She took one brightly wrapped present and placed it gently on the doorstep. She then pushed through the snow to the next house and placed another present on its front step. One by one she went to each house on the street leaving behind a present for those inside.
Her plan was perfect, she thought, as she neared the end of the street. By the time she reached her first stockpile, she would have given away all her gifts and be ready to resupply. That’s what Christmas was all about after all, giving gifts and spreading cheer.
She could just imagine the looks on people’s faces when they opened their doors tomorrow morning and found her gifts waiting for them.
—
It was only Cathy and Allen’s second Christmas in their new home, but it seemed just as magical as the first. There had been a fresh snowfall last night and the entire neighbourhood was blanketed with smooth unblemished snow.
Allen opened the front door and stepped out onto the front porch to enjoy the sight, and in the process almost stepped on a small wrapped box sitting on the front porch.
“Huh? Hey Cathy, looks like someone left a gift on the porch this morning,” he called out into the house. “Wonder who it's from?”
He turned the box over this way and that, looking for a nametag. Finding none, he carefully peeled off the tape and unwrapped it. He flipped open the box and looked inside. At first he didn’t know what it was he was looking at. Then he did.
A surge of chilling ice-cold fear washed over him, freezing him on the spot.
“What is it?” Cathy asked, coming up behind him.
Allen tried to keep his voice calm. Calm, steady, and completely in control.
It came out more like a terrified squeak.
”Itzabomb!”
“What?”
Allen wrestled his voice back under control. “It’s a bomb,” he repeated, slowly and carefully. He tipped the box just a little so Sarah could see inside. “Call emergency please.”
—
It was a lovely Christmas morning. Jean let out a contented sigh and nestled deeper into her nest of blankets. Everyone had been right. She had needed a break.
She could hear the sounds of Diluc in the kitchen, flipping pancakes. Lisa was sitting on the couch across from her, a purple silk bathrobe concealing what Jean knew to be one of the most scandalous lace nightgowns she had ever seen. Klee was sleeping in. No doubt she had stayed up all night waiting for Santa to land on the roof.
It was quiet, peaceful, and everything she had been missing since she got elected.
And of course it was at that moment her phone rang. Her work phone. Using the number that was only supposed to be used when there was a national emergency that needed her immediate attention. Jean let out a defeated sigh, ignoring Lisa’s annoyed glower and the swear word coming from the kitchen, and answered.
“This is Prime Minister Jean speaking… Sorry, how many homes have been evacuated?” Her heart sunk in her chest. This was a real emergency. One she couldn’t just fob off until boxing day. “What are we looking at here? … Bombs? What do you mean they’re not active?”
Who would go around and leave a deactivated bombs on over five hundred people’s front step on Christmas day?
A cold shiver suddenly went through her. “DILUC, LISA!” She called out. “WHERE’S KLEE!”
—
“I’m sorry.”
Jean sighed and looked down at Klee. She was sorry. There was no doubt about that. She had just wanted to help everyone have a wonderful Christmas. Not create a national crisis that resulted in over two thousand people camped out in a football arena on Christmas morning.
Hopefully the last-minute Christmas feast Jean had had catered would soothe some tempers.
Klee was still grounded however, and had to give an apology to everyone who had to be evacuated to the arena.
She meant well, but the road to the Abyss and all that.
“You know,” Amber, the cheif bomb disposal technician remarked. “When I was going through training they said that every bomb incident had a message it wanted to send. This is the first time the message was ‘Merry Christmas.’
The amazing thing about it all, Jean had to admit, was how well planned it had all been. Klee hadn’t just made five thousand bombs on Christmas eve. This must have been the work of months to assemble the bombs, stash them in secret places all over the city, and have a plan worked out ahead of time as to how she was going to deliver them all.
The only mystery right now was how Klee had got the materials for the bombs. Nitrates were heavily regulated because of this. Even farmers using them for fertilizer had to get special permits and had their purchases monitored.
Farmers. Fertilizer. Something niggled in Jean’s brain.
There had been a report a few months back about farmers having fertilizer stolen. Jean groaned. Looked like she would have to explain to Klee that just because you found it lying in the middle of the field, didn’t mean no one wanted it and you could just take it.
It had been a good thing Klee had run into Razor, who had alerted them to where she was and what was going on, before Klee could complete her plan and leave five thousand bombs on people’s front steps, not two thousand. Well, not quite five thousand bombs. The final count had actually been 4989, not an even five thousand.
Something niggled in Jean’s mind again.
“Klee,” she asked. “How many bombs did you make again?”
“Five thousand,” Klee answered.
“Five thousand exactly?”
“Yup!” Klee looked proud. “I counted them all.”
“What did you do with the other eleven bombs? The ones you didn’t leave on people’s steps.”
“I gave them to Aether and Lumine!” Klee proclaimed. “They said they had some friends in the Fatui who would really like them!”
Diluc choked on air.
“Diluc,” Jean said slowly. “That was the name of those two exchange students you had at the winery right? The ones with the skeevy passports, who knew how to fire twenty different kinds of assault rifle?”
“The ones who got into a fight with the Fatui Harbinger,” Diluc confirmed, his face white, “and who vowed revenge on the whole organisation.”
—
Lumine had sent him a christmas present. Childe was surprised. He hadn’t expected her or her brother to have any fond feelings towards him after that little incident in Liyue.
Then again, the card did say ‘Merry Christmas you Filthy Animal,’ and the gift itself was a bomb with only thirty second left to go.
Well, he had to give it to them, Childe thought as he vaulted the rail of the stairwell and bolted for the emergency exit. They certainly knew how to bring some excitement on Christmas day.
An explosion shook the building. Smoke and dust billowed out from under the door. That hadn’t been his bomb, that one had come from La Signora’s suite one floor above him. Followed almost immediately by nine more explosions all matching up with the suites assigned to the other ten Harbingers.
Childe smiled. It was important to remember that the real meaning of Christmas wasn’t the bombs you received, it was the extra twenty seconds they gave you to run.