"Let me tell you about Yolnir!"
"Who the hell is that?"
"We know him primarily as Santa Claus. Yolnir was born in Alfheim, the world of the elves, as half frost giant and half elf. From the mixing of these different bloodlines, he was born with incredible powers, capable of controlling time and space. With such power, he could have ruled all the worlds, but instead, the good wizard chooses to help those too young and weak to help themselves—children. And every winter, he brings gifts to all the children of the nine worlds in a single night."
"Alfheim? I've never heard of that place…"
"It's the world of the light elves. Yolnir's wife, known to us as Mrs. Claus, also lives there."
"And you expect me to believe that?"
"I never lie, Hiro. Especially when I'm serious in my words."
"Then tell me more about Alfheim and the nine worlds you mentioned," Toyman said, his eyes shining with curiosity. Apparently, I had succeeded in sparking his youthful imagination after all.
Santa Claus has really existed in comic books. He was once depicted as one of the most powerful Omega-level mutants, surpassing even Apocalypse in strength. He was credited with the ability to manipulate reality, achieve immortality, control time, teleport, use telepathy, telekinesis, and much more.
Using my hyper-intuition, I learned that in this universe, only the version of Santa I'd told Toyman about truly existed.
Only minutes remained until the country's president's ceremonial speech, which would congratulate citizens, summarize achievements, and wish everyone success in the coming year. But before this "important event," I wanted to say a few words to everyone.
I dropped the Santa suit back into my inventory and, tapping my fork on a glass to attract attention, said, "Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention for a moment."
"2010 is about to complete its difficult journey, passing the baton to a new, hopeful 2011. Unfortunately, we have no control over the future, and we know nothing about what to expect in the coming year. But despite this—despite the year we are in and the one to come—I would like us to hold on to a few simple truths. With your permission, I would like to read you a few lines." I raised a glass of sparkling juice and slowly walked toward the stage.
I carefully examined the faces of those dear to me, each person embodying a wide spectrum of human destinies. Bruce Wayne, who had lost his parents so early, taciturn and lonely, had found a new family here.
Kavita Rao—a scientist, strangely insane yet insanely beautiful—a person whose happiness required so little: her research.
Alison Blaire, whose path to becoming a woman was long and arduous: whose inspiration at times dried up, whose poetry faltered, and hope ebbed. But she never despaired, never gave up, becoming a beloved singer, a star of millions.
Damien, the bold grandson of the League of Shadows' leader, who does not yet realize that the people he considers strangers are the closest to him and already love and cherish him.
Heather Brooks, whose chance encounter with me changed our lives both; I saved her from persecution by her former employer, and she became my indispensable and precious assistant.
Harley Quinn, influenced by the psychopathic Joker, became a villain but still managed to make the right choice—to free herself from his twisted grasp and return to the side of good.
Hiro, a genius child, fervently disbelieving in Santa Claus but secretly dreaming of a miracle.
Such different people—so many stories—gathered here today.I reached the stage but did not immediately step onto it. Turning slowly to everyone, I began to read quietly, trying to convey the meaning behind the words: "All important phrases should be quiet,
All photos with family are always soft-focus,
The strangest people are always great,
And the reasons for happiness are always unimportant.
Favorite songs are always hoarse,
All favorite poems are unknown,
All impudent people are always
worthless,
And all loved ones are always strangers.
All important meetings are always accidental,
Funny clowns are always sad,
And stubborn skeptics are all dreamers,
Brilliant thoughts are always delusional.
Those who have crossed out the unnecessary are free,
You need to let go of those with whom you are too different,
After all, if you are not in a New Year's mood,
Then you are definitely celebrating with the wrong people."
As soon as my speech ended, the president's voice began booming from the video wall screens, delivering his customary New Year's tirade about national greatness, achievements, and future promises. But almost no one paid attention. Everyone's thoughts were elsewhere.
At first glance, one would think such simple lines had awakened in people's minds—the worth of simple things, the futility of regrets, the uniqueness of each person and moment, and that the people near us here and now—the loved ones—are exactly those with whom it is worth celebrating.
Incidentally, in this universe, the president was a black man named William Weiner. I cannot say whether he was a good ruler or not, since politics has never been my interest. I could ask others about it.
"Hey, Dick, what do you think about our president's activities?"
"Reserved," answered Grayson.
"I see... Thanks for a very interesting conversation."
"What exactly did you want to hear? An in-depth analysis of state policy? Well, that's not my forte. And why are you actually asking? What's your stance on this issue?"
"Hmm... I can say for sure he's not my favorite president."
"Who then?"
"George Washington! He invented the dollar!"
"Are you kidding? He's just on the hundred-dollar bill!" Nightwing exclaimed indignantly at my ignorance.
"Oh, come on! Well, either way, money rules!" I laughed.
Finally, the president finished his long-winded speech and announced the arrival of the new 2011. Confetti exploded; the mighty tree in the center of the hall came to life, its branches straightening impressively.
Everyone congratulated one another, clinked glasses of champagne, and rejoiced at the beginning of a fresh chapter in history.
I quietly climbed onto the stage and sat at the piano—the first notes played. All eyes fixed on me. This New Year's Eve, I was going to perform a new song.
The piece that first came to mind as the most solemn for the night was "Happy New Year" by ABBA.
"No more champagne
And the fireworks are through
Here we are, me and you
Feeling lost and feeling blue
It's the end of the party
And the morning seems so grey
So unlike yesterday
Now's the time for us to say...
Happy new year
Happy new year
May we all have a vision now and then
Of a world where every neighbour is a friend
Happy new year
Happy new year
May we all have our hopes, our will to try
If we don't we might as well lay down and die
You and I"
This legendary song by the Swedish group ABBA reflects on life—the dialogue after New Year's Eve, when "the fireworks have gone out" and "the champagne has been drunk."
Though it's not exactly festive—it's melancholy and even somewhat gloomy—it remained a New Year's classic for decades in my old world.
I believe it will share a similarly great destiny here.
Sometimes it feels like we live in a Brave New World, thriving on the ashes of our souls. We are naïve, thinking everything will be fine. Walking on clay feet through gray everyday life, we don't even suspect we have lost our way; yet we keep going...Right now, this song is playing not only in the grand hall of the ancient Wayne estate, surrounded by close friends, but across the country, perhaps even the world.
I warned my Twitter followers in advance that I would perform the New Year's track at midnight on December 31st, opening a live stream. I don't know how many people heard me then, but I poured all my emotions and soul into this song, so that every word would reach the hearts of listeners.
In that moment, we were all one, connected by this song and by the fresh decade now begun.
"Seems to me now
That the dreams we had before
Are all dead, nothing more
Than confetti on the floor
It's the end of a decade
In another ten years time
Who can say what we'll find
What lies waiting down the line
In the end of eighty-nine...
Happy new year
Happy new year
May we all have a vision now and then
Of a world where every neighbour is a friend
Happy new year
Happy new year
May we all have our hopes, our will to try
If we don't we might as well lay down and die
You and I"
The song ended. The last note faded into silence, and my voice disappeared in the stillness.
A thunderous ovation broke out—compliments rained down and joy filled the hearts of everyone present.
"Well, dear friends, the new year 2011 is upon us. I have so much to say but, at the same time, my soul asks for a moment of silence. It wants to enjoy the magic of those first minutes when miracles happen and even the most impossible wishes come true."
"I sincerely hope that when the clock struck midnight, you all managed to make a wish..."
"Alex, what did you wish for?" asked Alison.
"If I tell you, it won't come true."
"Come on, tell me. I'm sure your fans want to hear it too."
"My only wish is that everything I want will come true, ha-ha..."
"Each of us dreams of that," Alison smiled into the camera, entertaining viewers of the live broadcast."And yet, Alex, what did you think about when midnight struck? Your deepest wish."
"…Happiness for everyone, for free, and may no one leave offended…"