Santa's office filled quickly with the senior elves—the ones who'd been with him for decades, some for centuries. They filed in with confused expressions, their pointed ears drooping slightly as they sensed something was wrong. Jingleberry stood closest to Santa's desk, his usual cheerfulness replaced by genuine concern.
Santa stood behind his desk, one hand resting on the leather surface as if it might anchor him to reality. The other elves arranged themselves around the office, their eyes fixed on him expectantly. He'd delivered difficult news before—toy recalls, production delays, the occasional reindeer retirement—but never anything like this.
"I've called you here because you deserve to hear this directly from me," Santa began, his voice steady despite the trembling in his chest. "Not through memos, not through rumors. From me."
He took a breath and told them. The Zoom call. Reginald Frostbottom III. The termination. The words came out in a measured cadence, each one a small betrayal of the three centuries they'd all built together.
The silence that followed was absolute. One of the elder elves, Mistletoe, sat down heavily in the nearest chair. Jingleberry's clipboard slipped from his fingers and clattered to the floor.
"But... boss," Jingleberry said, his voice small and uncertain. "You can't just... Christmas needs you. We need you."
"I know," Santa said quietly. "But the decision's been made. Reginald believes the old ways are inefficient. He wants to modernize Christmas, make it profitable, turn it into just another corporate operation." Santa paused, looking at each of their faces. "I've been thinking about this all afternoon. I'm exhausted, my friends. Bone-deep exhausted. Maybe it's time for someone new to carry this weight."
"That's not true," Mistletoe said firmly, standing up. "You're just shocked. You're hurting."
Santa managed a tired smile. "Perhaps. But the decision isn't mine to make anymore. I have until the end of the week to leave. I wanted you to hear it from me first." He looked directly at Jingleberry. "You're going to need to help the other elves adjust. You're strong enough to lead them through this."
Jingleberry opened his mouth to protest, but Santa held up a hand. "Let me have this evening to myself. We'll talk tomorrow about the transition."
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