Heh heh... the whoopee-cushion-in-the-hand prank never gets old; humor pops like a bubble. Nice to meet ya. I’m Sans—Sans the Skeleton.

Alicia’s heart stumbled like a startled sparrow; she faced the grinning Skeleton and couldn’t find the right words.

Uh... first meeting? So, do all Skeletons act like this, like wind chimes made of bone?

Nah. This place’s full of bores—yeah, a skullful of boring folks; dullness piles up like dusty stones.

Alicia’s thoughts lagged like a kite against a crosswind; she couldn’t keep up with his zigzag mind.

Is that... a new brand of deadpan, ice-cold and dry as winter bark?

Meh, forget it. If you’re looking for that boring bunch of Skeletons, you won’t find ’em; a flute-blowing guy called them away like rats to a piper.

Disbelief pricked Alicia’s chest like a thorn; he’d just spill his companions’ info for nothing, as casual as tossing pebbles into a stream.

But opportunity tasted sweet as warm tea; Alicia decided to use the moment and let it unwind like silk.

Then why didn’t you go?

Me? I don’t [listen] to that guy; his piping’s awful, a squeal like rusty reeds. No clue why so many follow him. I’d rather go eat ketchup~

Ketch... up?

Seeing Alicia’s puzzled look hang like a pale moon, Sans rummaged inside his jacket like a lazy magician and pulled out a bottle of ketchup, red as sunset.

His bone fingers popped the cap with a click, clean as frost.

He tilted his skull, raised the bottle, and poured; red slid like a river into that hollow frame.

In a blink, half the bottle was gone, swallowed into empty space like rain on dry sand.

Burp—

A red smear clung to his mouth like blood after a wound; a Skeleton “bleeding” looked eerie as fog over graves.

Ah~ hits the spot. Want a sip?

Though the bottle was basically empty, he offered it politely like a host under lantern light; it was hard to tell if he was trolling or just air-headed.

Alicia smiled and pushed it back, stomach turning like a tide; straight ketchup wasn’t her thing.

Heh heh... humans don’t appreciate ketchup much~ his laugh was self-mocking, thin as late autumn wind.

He levered himself up with a single bone like a crane lifting a plank, rising to Alicia’s height in one smooth sway.

He laid a bony palm on her head; white pupils watched like cold moons. For a heartbeat, blue flickered in those sockets like foxfire.

Human... your face reminds me of a [human] who brought me here; the memory drifted like mist. Meh, half a year ago. Not worth talking, not worth talking~

He started the topic and ended it like snapping a twig. He hopped off the bone, ignored the stares like crows on a field, slipped past Alicia, and strolled on.

Hey! Wait!

Ling’s voice cracked the air like a whip; Sans halted, and his white pupils slid toward her, cold as hoarfrost.

Do you know why we’re here? her words drew tight like a strung bow.

It’s not for ketchup, right? his grin curved like a crescent blade.

We’re here to wipe out Skeletons~ her tone rang like iron.

Then keep going; there’s a heap of Skeletons ahead for you to kill, a pile like a broken shrine.

He moved on, but a small hand cut across him like a blade; it stopped him mid-step.

Did you just touch my sister’s head?!

He hadn’t meant it like that; the thought flashed like a startled fish.

Sans looked at the small figure, head down; her fringe veiled her eyes like rain. Trouble rippled under his skin like a chill.

Kid, that was just a greeting, a tap like a leaf on water.

Doesn’t matter! I know you’re a Skeleton, and my task is to destroy Skeletons! her voice struck like flint sparks.

A heavy punch hammered toward his skull; it hit nothing but wind, empty as a swallow’s dive.

Sans had slipped far away like smoke; he stood atop a boulder like a quiet raven, watching Ling.

The white pinpricks were gone; pure black filled his sockets, deep as night wells and colder.

Wow, you look real mad... his words drifted like frost across grass.

What is this? the question bit like winter.

A shift-in-place trick, slippery as mist—troublesome; worry for Alicia and raw anger clashed in Ling’s chest like thunder, but she chose to face him alone.

Sis! Get back. I’ll handle this! her stance rooted like a pine.

Alicia watched the fight spark from nowhere; instinct murmured Sans wasn’t bad, yet she stepped back like a cautious leaf.

Still, the warning had to land—Ling, don’t kill this Skeleton yet! urgency glowed like a coal.

Anger burned like fire, but Ling kept a cool edge like ice; Sans still held value, info ripe as fruit—like that “human who brought him here.”

Then... one hit will do; no monster drops from a single strike, right? her confidence gleamed like steel.

She drew her Scythe from her back; gears clicked, and the blade snapped out with a spring, clean as a bell.

Alicia’s faint firelight washed the silver edge; a cold gleam ran along it like water, sharp as a winter star.

Sans’s sockets stayed black, yet it felt like his eyes had shut; clouds folded like a closing curtain.

Heh heh heh heh heh... Alright, alright, here’s a better question. Do you wanna have a bad time? His voice flowed like a low tide and cut like midnight wind. Take one more step forward... you won’t like what happens next.