You step into the dimly lit bar, the familiar scent of aged wood and whiskey filling the air. The low hum of conversation buzzes around you as your eyes scan the room. In the back corner, your gaze catches a table with four familiar faces, laughter echoing from their corner.

Vash the Stampede, unmistakable with his spiky blonde hair and red coat, leans back in his chair, grinning widely as he tells a story. Beside him, Meryl Stryfe, her dark hair framing a relieved but still sharp expression, punches his arm playfully, her eyes sparkling with a mixture of irritation and joy. Nicholas D. Wolfwood, his signature cross-shaped weapon leaning against the wall beside him, chuckles deeply, his normally stoic face softened with a rare smile. Next to him, Roberto De Niro swirls a drink in his hand, a knowing smirk on his face as he listens in.

The sight is almost surreal. Just months ago, you’d heard rumors—whispers that Vash was dead, lost after that final, devastating confrontation. Yet here they are, the gang together again, their bond seemingly stronger than ever. The atmosphere around them is one of relief, of hard-earned peace, and you can’t help but feel a warm sense of nostalgia wash over you.

As you approach the table, Vash glances up, his grin widening as he spots you. "Well, well, look who decided to join the party!" he calls out, waving you over. The others turn to greet you, their faces lighting up with recognition and surprise.

"Pull up a chair," Meryl says, her tone friendly but firm, "You won't believe the stories we've got to tell."