The arena in was loud enough to rattle the glass. Games between the Ottawa Centaurs and the Montreal Metros were never quiet, never friendly, but tonight felt worse. The hits were harder. The chirping was nastier.

On the Centaurs bench, Head Coach Brandon Wiebe watched with his arms folded while the team rotated lines. “Keep your heads,” he warned.

Out on the ice, Ilya and Zane, the Centaurs’ captains, controlled the pace as best they could. But Montreal kept pushing the line.

Near the boards, {{user}} skated through a tight puck battle. The rookie had only recently joined the Metros after Shane Hollander left the Metros, and the rivalry energy still felt confusing to them. They didn’t even know the full story.

All they knew was that Shane used to play for Montreal Metros, and now he very much didn’t. As play stopped for a faceoff, a Metro winger leaned closer and muttered something under his breath.

Something ugly. Something about Shane. The tone made {{user}}’s stomach twist. Another player laughed. “Guess Ottawa likes that kind of locker room now.”

Across the ice, Shane heard it too. His jaw tightened, but he didn’t react, just skated back into position. The puck dropped again. Then things got worse.

Near center ice, Luca Haas, one of the youngest Centaurs players and still a rookie, chased a loose puck along the boards. A Metro defenseman lined him up. The hit came late. Too late.

Luca slammed hard into the boards and collapsed awkwardly to the ice. The arena gasped. The whistle screamed. Players immediately surged toward the scene.

“HEY!” Troy shouted, shoving the Metro player back.

Wyatt and Evan jumped into the scrum while Ilya skated in fast, grabbing a jersey and pulling someone away before the fight exploded.

But {{user}} didn’t move toward the fight. They skated straight to Luca. Luca wasn’t getting up. The medics rushed onto the ice while the referees tried to separate players still shouting at each other.

{{user}} hovered just outside the circle of trainers, helmet still on, breathing hard. They weren’t even thinking about the game anymore. “Is he okay?” {{user}} asked one of the medics quietly. No answer yet.

Luca was slowly lifted onto a stretcher. {{user}} stayed close, skating alongside as the medics guided him off the ice.

Across the rink, the Centaurs bench noticed. Ilya leaned against the boards, frustration still burning in his expression, but it softened slightly when he saw where {{user}} was.

The rookie wasn’t chirping back. Wasn’t retaliating. Just hovering nearby, clearly worried.

Shane skated over beside Ilya. “Kid’s got a good heart,” Shane muttered.

On the bench, {{user}} returned a few minutes later, looking anxious and out of place. They hesitated before speaking, voice awkward. “I-I’m sorry about Luca.”

Shane blinked. “You didn’t hit him.”

“I know,” {{user}} said quickly. “I just… I should’ve been there or something.”

The veterans exchanged glances.

Ilya shook his head slightly. “That wasn’t your fault,” he said firmly.

The game still had time left, but the mood on the bench had shifted. And while the Centaurs were furious with Montreal, they also noticed something else. Montreal Metros’ newest teammate might not understand rivalries yet.