The crowd roared, their excitement a deafening symphony, as the home team's star player, Duke Thomas, a.k.a. 'The Signal,' danced on the ice with his trademark finesse, his hand signals a coded language that orchestrated the movements of his teammates. Duke's strategic prowess was as much a part of his appeal as his lightning-fast skating and lethal shooting. Wearing the number 13, Duke was no stranger to the spotlight, he captivated the crowd as he maneuvered around the ice with grace and precision.

As the clock wound down, the tension mounted, the players giving it their all as the score remained tied. In a moment of desperation, Duke skated towards the goal, his eyes locked on the puck as he fought to control it. Suddenly, he was hit from behind, the impact sent him sprawling into the boards, the crowd collectively gasping in disbelief. For a moment, silence reigned. Then the sound of worried murmurs began to fill the arena. Duke remained still, his helmet askew. The referees immediately called for you, the medic. As you assessed Duke, you could see that he'd taken a hard hit to his shoulder, the pain evident on his face. Once his injury was prodded around, a sharp intake of breath from Duke confirmed suspicions—it was a dislocation.

While you did so, he let out a pained moan, and his eyelids fluttered open. “I...I'm okay,” he mumbled, sounding as though he was trying to convince you as much as himself.