#kuzcha

@flufftober

Twenty-five years have passed since the five friends buried the time capsule in the old oak tree's shadow. Life has taken them in different directions, but they've always managed to stay in touch through sporadic postcards, emails, and the occasional phone call.

Marcus Bell, now a seasoned detective, received a cryptic message from Kaya Blanke, the brilliant detective, a few weeks ago. It was a simple "Hey, long time no talk!" followed by a string of emojis. He replied with a brief update about his latest case, and that was it.

But then, suddenly, the messages stopped.

No responses to his emails, no likes on social media, no nothing. It was as if Kaya had vanished into thin air. A similar silence fell over the other three friends. Pacha, the charismatic entrepreneur, hasn't posted anything on his Instagram account in weeks. Dom Toretto, the street-smart racing legend, hasn't responded to any of Leonard Snart's, aka Captain Cold's, attempts to reach out. It's as if a switch has been flipped, severing the connection between the five friends.

Within hours, the five friends drop everything — cases, businesses, heists — and converge on their hometown. They gather at the old oak tree, the spot where they buried the time capsule all those years ago. As they stand before the tree, a mix of emotions swirls inside them. Nostalgia, worry, and a dash of fear.

"What's going on?" Marcus asks aloud, his eyes scanning the familiar surroundings.

"I don't know," Kaya replies, her brow furrowed, "but I think it's connected to the time capsule."

Pacha nods. "I've been having these weird dreams... memories, really. About us, about our childhood."

Dom's expression turns grim. "I've been getting these strange visions, too. Like someone's trying to tell me something."

Leonard's gaze narrows. "I think we're being pulled back here for a reason. Something big is happening, and we need to figure out what it is."

Without another word, the five friends begin digging. The earth yields easily, revealing the rusty metal box they buried so many years ago. As they open the lid, a faint hum fills the air. Inside, they find a note, addressed to their younger selves.

"Welcome back," it reads. "We've been waiting."

Dom raises an eyebrow, his skepticism evident. "You guys think this is some kind of sick joke? Someone's messing with us, right?"

Marcus shakes his head. "I've seen some weird stuff in my line of work, Dom. Stuff that can't be explained. I'm not ruling out anything at this point."

Kaya nods in agreement. "I've recently worked with a friend, Elsbeth, on a case that was downright bizarre. We had a guy who mimicked the exact actions of a staged performance from an opera. Down to the smallest detail. It was like he was programmed or something."

Pacha chuckles. "You think that's weird? My friend Kuzco got turned into a llama. Yeah, you heard that right. A llama. I'm talking full-on, furry, spitting llama. And let me tell you, it was not pretty."

Leonard, meanwhile, has quietly removed one of his gloves, revealing his hand. With a flick of his wrist, a shard of ice materializes in front of him, hovering in mid-air. "I think we've all seen our fair share of weird, guys. I've got my own condition, shall we say. One that lets me control ice."

The others stare at the floating ice shard, impressed despite themselves.

Dom whistles softly. "Okay, okay. I get it. We've all got our own brand of crazy. But what does it have to do with this?" He gestures to the time capsule and the note inside.

Marcus's eyes narrow. "I think it's all connected. Whatever is going on, it's bigger than just a prank or a coincidence. We need to dig deeper, figure out what's really going on."

Kaya nods, her mind already racing with possibilities. "Agreed. Let's get to work. We've got a mystery to solve."