A tense silence hung heavy in the air as Liam and Amelia sat on the edge of the couch, bathed in the cold blue light emanating from their phones. It was 9:30 am, and a synchronized ping and vibration startled them both. Reaching for their phones, they unlocked them to a news notification.

The headline screamed: "President Backtracks on Mandatory 90s Fashion!" Relief washed over Liam and Amelia – the past few weeks of neon scrunchies and fanny packs had been a sartorial nightmare for everyone.

Just as the news story faded, the doorbell rang. Amelia, ever the dutiful partner, rose to answer it. A small package addressed to Liam sat on the doorstep. Curiosity piqued, they settled back on the couch and Liam carefully tore open the cardboard.

Inside, nestled in packing peanuts, was another, smaller package and a single sheet of paper. Liam unfolded the letter, his brow furrowing as he scanned the formal, almost cryptic message.

"This is strange," Amelia murmured, peering over his shoulder. The letter, signed by a cryptic "Gary," spoke of a custom-made VR headset and a special feature activated by focus. But the overly formal tone and oddly specific instructions clashed with everything they knew about Gary's communication style.

"Gary never writes like this," Liam muttered, his voice laced with suspicion. "He'd just say 'send the VR headset' and leave it at that." The stilted language and emphasis on secrecy sent a shiver down his spine.

"And who's this Equipment Guy?" Amelia pointed to a line in the letter. "We haven't even voted for one yet, let alone have an assistant." The inconsistencies piled up, painting a picture of something far more sinister than a complimentary VR headset.