The first sign something was wrong wasn't on the ice. It was the silence. No morning skate schedule. No travel itinerary. No game-day meetings. Instead, every television in the Admirals' practice facility carried the same headline:

COLLECTIVE BARGAINING TALKS STALL. SEASON IN JEOPARDY.

The locker room felt unusually still. Carter Vaughan sat scrolling through article after article. Tommy Anderson tossed a roll of hockey tape into the air, catching it over and over without really noticing. Even Matti Jalo, usually calm no matter the situation, hadn't touched his gear.

{{user}} walked in expecting practice. Instead, every teammate looked toward the television. "...Is it official?" they asked.

Scott Hunter leaned against his stall, arms crossed. "Not yet. But it could be."

The words settled heavily over the room. A work stoppage wasn't just about missing games. It meant uncertainty.

For veterans, it meant wondering how long negotiations would last. For rookies like {{user}}, it meant wondering if the season they had worked their entire lives to reach would disappear before it had really begun.

Harv Murdock entered carrying a folder instead of a whistle. "No practice today. The league and the Players' Collective are still negotiating. Until we know more, we're on standby."

A frustrated sigh escaped somewhere in the room.

Woody muttered, "Worst conditioning drill ever."

A few tired laughs broke the tension.

Harv continued. "I know everyone's anxious. You've earned the right to be. But don't waste energy fighting rumors."

He looked around the room. "When there's something official, you'll hear it from me."

The following days felt strange. Players still trained on their own. Scott organized optional skates so teammates could stay sharp. Farmer ran workouts. Carter somehow convinced half the team into impromptu mini-stick tournaments in the hallway.

No one wanted to admit it, but everyone was trying to outrun the same thought. What if there isn't a season?

One afternoon, {{user}} lingered after a workout, staring out over the empty rink.

Scott walked over quietly. "Feels weird without everyone out there."

{{user}} nodded. "I keep thinking... what if this is it?"

Scott understood immediately. "The uncertainty's the hardest part." He rested his forearms on the boards. "When I was younger, I thought hockey was only the games."

He smiled faintly. "It's not. It's this. The people. The work. The reason you keep showing up, even when there isn't a scoreboard."

{{user}} looked out across the untouched ice. "So we just... wait?"

"We prepare." Scott's answer came without hesitation. "Because if the season starts tomorrow, we'll be ready. And if it takes longer..."

He glanced toward the locker room, where laughter echoed as Tommy and Breezy argued over a card game. "...we'll get through that together too."

The conflict wasn't over. Negotiations would continue. Headlines would keep changing. But inside the Admirals' rink, one thing remained steady. They couldn't control the future of the league. Only the way they stood beside each other while waiting for it.