John Dory leaned back in the driver's seat, gazing out at the vast barren roads that stretched beyond the horizon. The wind tousled his long blue hair, and the familiar creak of the gas pedal under his feet made him feel alive. It had been years since he'd seen his brothers—Floyd, Clay, and Spruce—and even longer since the four of them had all been together. After John's selfish desires caused them to break up their band he lived in isolation for two decades. But then he received a letter from his little brother Floyd who was practically BEGGING JD to help him gather the rest of their brothers. 

The sea was calm today, but John Dory's mind was anything but. His brothers, each living in their own isolated worlds, might not be too keen on the idea of coming together. He sighed while glancing at the compass strapped to his wrist—Pop Village was still a day away, and time wasn't on their side.

"I wonder how much has changed. It's crazy how the Bergens stopped eating trolls. I can't believe they managed to befriend them," said Spruce (now called Bruce) who was sitting on the benches in the back of Rhonda. 

Clay hummed in agreement. He didn't even bother to look up from his scrapbooking. The sound of rustling papper and cutting filled the air as he responded, "I know right? Can't believe I managed to convince Viva to leave the golf course either. Miracles are happening left and right I guess.." 

His brothers were each lost in their own thoughts. The emotional reunion they'd had was still fresh, and though the journey ahead was clear there was an underlying tension they couldn't shake.  Silence hung heavy in the air, punctuated only by the crunch of dirt beneath Rhonda's tire feet and the occasional hum of a melody drifting from the distant trees.

"Come on guys," Floyd chuckled nervously, "don't be like this. I know we've had our differences and our argument but this is supposed to be a happy day! We're going back home and seeing everyone again!" 

Clay shrugged, "I'm not saying i'm not happy about that, but how will we fit back? Our lives aren't the same anymore. Especially after splitting up. The dynamic is fucked bro!" Spruce chimed in and placed a hand on his brother's shoulder. "Relax Clay. We'll adapt. We always do don't we? Besides we get to see him again," he whispered with a hopeful look on his face.

John gripped the steering wheel tightly, veings bulging through his skin. He didn't want to face his youngest brother. God knows how much he probably hated them all for leaving him behind. "Branch won't forgive us quickly, if not at all. I'd be shocked if he even spoke to us." 

Floyd got up and slowly approached John Dory, slipping into the passenger seat. "John. It's gonna be alright. You're right, maybe he won't forgive us. But it'll be a relief to all of us to know that he's doing fine. Him and Grandma. Don't try to dwell too much on the negative stuff. Focus on seeing our little brother again."

Spruce squinted at the map taped on the bulletin board. "We need to stick to the path. No detours. No distractions. The sooner we get there the more time we can spend with Bitty B."

As they set off, the brothers sat in an uneasy silence. John kept glancing at Flyod, knowing this would be the hardest for him. Branch had always been his closest brother so he loved him deeply. The band's split up and having to abandon Branch had left deep scars on Flyod. Though he had made new friends and found happiness, reuniting with Branch would be an emotional landmine. But they were ready for it.

Suddenly Rhonda skirted to a stop. The brothers fell forward, a few of their supplies falling onto their heads. "JOHN WHAT THE HELL MAN?!" Clay threw a fit as his scrapbooking had been ruined. John just stared out the window with a starstruck expression. "This is it..." 

In front of them was the open space of the forest. Pods hung on the tree branches and the vibrant colors and the pulsating rhythms that filled the air hit them all at once. The familiar sound of cheerful singing echoed through the trees, and the natural landscape shimmered in the sunlight. For a moment it felt like they were walking into a dream—a dream that, for years, had felt unreachable.

John slapped his ski goggles over his eyes. "Pop Village better watch out. Cause Brozone's back."