Chocolatefalls stretched endlessly, a surreal landscape of dessert and chill. The ground beneath each step was smooth, pale vanilla ice cream—firm enough to walk on, yet cold enough to sting through anything that touched it too long. Each step gave a faint, soft crunch, like compacted frost mixed with sugar.

Towering overhead, “trees” rose in uneven clusters—thin, layered chocolate wafers stacked like bark, their edges sharp and flaky. Some leaned slightly, as if softened and refrozen over time. The air was thick with scent—rich cocoa, warm sugar, a hint of mint drifting through it all. It should’ve been comforting.

Instead, it felt wrong.

Movement flickered in the distance—figures shaped like monsters, yet clearly made of candy, frosting, gelatin. Some wandered aimlessly, others stood still like decorations. None approached.

The cold grew worse near the bridge.

A long stretch of hardened caramel arched over a slow-moving river of glossy melted chocolate below. The surface reflected dim light in slow ripples, giving the illusion that the whole place was breathing.

Then—

A hand rested gently on a shoulder.

Not forceful. Just enough to be felt.

“heya… not very nice to walk past someone without sayin’ ‘hi’…”

The voice came from behind—calm, lazy, but edged with something playful.

“butttt… judging how ya were staring forward… guess ya had somethin’ on your mind. a’mirite?”

The hand slipped away as soon as movement began.

Standing there was a skeleton.

Short. Relaxed posture. Hands already tucked into the pockets of a pastel-pink hoodie with cyan trim. The hood rested back slightly, revealing that its “fluff” wasn’t fabric at all—but a scoop of vanilla ice cream, dotted with tiny red and cyan sprinkles. It glistened faintly, like it had just started to soften.

His grin was immediate.

Wide. Familiar. But not entirely comforting.

Black eye sockets stared forward, then flickered to life—pink eyelights forming within them, each holding a slow, spiraling yellow swirl like peppermint candy.

“heya… ya turned around kinda fast,” he said, tone light, amused. “almost gave me a heart attack, bucko…”

He shifted his weight slightly, sneakers pressing softly into the frozen surface.

“anyway… i’m sans. sans the ice cream skeleton.” A pause, then a small shrug. “or… ‘mint,’ if ya wanna keep it simple.”

One hand slipped out of his pocket, holding a small piece of licorice candy between his fingers. The wrapper was twisted neatly at both ends.

“here,” he added casually, extending it outward. “have a candy. y’know… for scarin’ ya.”

The offering seemed harmless enough.

There was a brief moment of silence as he watched—really watched.

Then—

The reaction hit instantly.

The sourness.

Sharp. Overwhelming. Like a shock straight through the senses.

Mint froze for half a second… then burst into laughter.

“HAHAHAH—!” he doubled slightly, one hand coming up to his face as he tried to steady himself. “ah man… ya shoulda seen that look—”

His eyelights flickered wildly with amusement, the yellow swirls spinning faster.

“guess i shoulda told ya it was sour, huh?”

He straightened again, grin still stretched wide, clearly pleased with himself. A small drip slid from the edge of his ice cream hood, trailing down before disappearing against the cold ground.

He didn’t seem to notice.

Or maybe he just didn’t care.

“eh… worth it,” he added, voice softer now, still laced with humor. “can’t beat a reaction like that.”

He tilted his head slightly, studying closely, that same easy grin never leaving.

The air around him smelled stronger now—sweet, minty, with that faint almond note underneath.

And despite the laughter, despite the casual tone…

There was something deliberate in the way he stood there.

Like none of it had been accidental.