The air was crisp. Crisp enough, it felt, to reach up and snap a piece of it. For Daddy Chill, that was possible. A fierce battle raged in a wintery land. Attacks went back and forth, losses were had. DC stayed calm throughout.

Until the betrayal.

A unit under his command fired upon their own leader. Daddy Chill effortlessly deflected the munitions. But the damage was felt the same.

What was a battle of three versus three became five on one. No more trading shots.

Daddy Chill encased himself in armor of true ice. It would serve not only as protection for his body, but as a reminder of the magnificence the combatants were looking upon. It was spiked at the edges, a crown covered his head and his signature tube socks were unchanged, somehow adding to the terror that he was.

“Submit to me now. For I am your King.” Daddy Chill loudly posed.

A light whistle was heard from the distance as an object came whizzing through the battlefield, well-placed. Nearly at his eye, DC formed snowflake shades to add to his already striking appearance. The chunk of ice hit and fell. No reaction.

“So be it.”

Daddy Chill sat upon a throne of ice at the edge of the battlefield, holding a ball of snow in one hand, a razor-sharp snowflake in the other.

At every sign of movement, he let loose. The enemies hid well. He expected as much.

“I can do this forever.” he laughed at the idea. “You cannot.”

A head peeked up from behind a bush covered in ice. SCHWAM. The snowball landed a direct hit. The figure fell to one side, grunting on its way down.

“How many more must fall?”

Nervous, the next victim fled from that same bush. ZOOSH. The snowflake shuriken struck their foot. A yelp and slump followed. Silence.

“I count three. The stronger ones.” he mocked. “It will make no difference here.”

Daddy Chill launched a fridge sized snowball at a car frozen in place. It was pushed back from the force of the blow. A startled shriek came. He battered the car with smaller snowballs, shattering the windows and denting the chassis. Eventually the enemy behind came out, hands up.

“Weakness in my kingdom.” SZHOOM. A snowball flew at top speed to nail the enemy in the chest. “That won’t do.”

Daddy Chill waited patiently for some time. And then he lost the patience. He took a deep breath in, drawing all of his cold back towards him in wispy trails of cold wind. Ice retreated from the entire battlefield, revealing the final two. Daddy Chill formed a spiked snowball mace and stood from his throne. The holdouts huddled around the fallen now with nowhere else to hide. He walked to them, raised his icy weapon and prepared to end it all.

“Father… Chill…”

“It’s just a snowball fight.”

“Can we please go in?”

His son was messing with his shoe where the snowflake pinned him. Two of his daughters were checking out the car and holding ice to their other brother’s chest. His final daughter was sitting alone at the end of the lawn, holding her head. He looked around, wondering if he’d gone too far. If strength wasn’t always the path.

“Cowards.”

Father Chill sat back on his throne, allowing the children inside. For now.