The locker room of the Ottawa Centaurs hummed with pre-game energy. Skates clacked against the floor. Tape ripped from rolls. Music blasted from the corner speaker while someone argued about whose playlist was better.

Tonight was the rookie’s first real game. And everyone knew it. Most rookies tried to play it cool. Pretend the nerves weren’t there. But {{user}} sat at their stall, helmet in their hands, breathing a little too fast. The noise of the room felt distant, muffled. Inhale. Too sharp. Exhale. Too shaky.

Their chest tightened like the air had suddenly gotten heavier. The bright lights over the stalls seemed too strong, the voices too loud. A familiar spiral.

Across the room, Luca Haas noticed first. The shy Swiss rookie knew the signs, he’d had his own moments like that before games. He leaned toward Shane Hollander, murmuring something quietly.

Shane glanced over immediately. Then he stood. “Hey,” Shane said casually as he walked over, leaning one elbow against the locker beside {{user}}. “You good?”

{{user}} nodded quickly. Too quickly.

Shane had been in hockey long enough to recognize that kind of nod. He lowered his voice. “Breathe,” Shane said calmly. “In through your nose. Slow.”

A hand suddenly landed gently on the back of the stall. Zane Boodram had wandered over. “What’s going on here?” Zane asked lightly.

“Rookie nerves,” Shane answered.

Zane grinned softly. “Oh yeah, those suck.”

He crouched slightly so he was eye-level with {{user}}. “You think any of us were calm our first game?” Zane said. “Man, I nearly threw up in the tunnel.”

From the next stall, Troy Barrett laughed. “Nearly? You did throw up.”

“Details,” Zane shot back.

The tension in the air cracked just a little. A shadow fell over the group. Ilya Rozanov stood there now, captain’s presence instantly steadying the space. He didn’t make a big speech. Didn’t raise his voice. He simply leaned against the locker beside Shane.

“You are here for a reason,” Ilya said evenly. “You made the roster.” His tone was calm, certain. “Coach does not hand those out.”

Zane nudged {{user}}’s shoulder gently. “And if you screw up?” he added. He jerked a thumb toward the rest of the team. “We’ll just blame Luca.”

Luca looked up instantly. “Hey-!”

The players nearby laughed.