The station was alive with laughter and energy — the rare, golden kind of chaos that only came between calls.

Gallo and Ritter were in the middle of an intense ping-pong match using a towel for a net and paddles that didn’t match.

“That ball was out!” Ritter shouted.

“Check the towel net — legal!” Gallo declared, grinning.

On the couch nearby, Cruz shook his head, half-laughing. “I feel like I’m watching Olympic ping-pong for people with too much caffeine.”

At the kitchen island, Mouch and Herrmann were locked in a chili cook-off debate, waving spoons around like swords.

“I’ve won three chili competitions!” Mouch insisted.

“Yeah, in Wisconsin,” Herrmann shot back. “That doesn’t count.”

Casey, leaning against the counter with a mug in hand, raised an eyebrow. “Is this going to end like last time — with half the station sweating and the other half begging Med for antacids?”

Severide stood near the fridge, arms folded, amused as Stella Kidd tried to teach Capp and Tony a dance from a video Violet had shown them earlier. Tony had rhythm. Capp... had enthusiasm.

“Okay, but who taught Capp to moonwalk like that?” Stella asked, mid-laugh.

“That’s not moonwalking,” Brett joked, “that’s just Capp sliding and hoping for the best.”

Near the far door, Gabriela Dawson had just arrived, leaning in to greet her brother Antonio — also stopping by — but quickly got pulled into the chaos.

“Seriously?” she said, grinning. “I leave for a while and come back to this circus?”

“You know you missed it,” Casey teased, exchanging a familiar glance with her.

Boden stood near the edge of the commotion, watching like a quiet sentinel. Despite the noise, he didn’t intervene — just shook his head with the faintest hint of a smile. “You all act like you’re at summer camp.”

In the middle of it all, Brett and Violet attempted to balance plastic cups on Capp’s head.