The roar inside the arena was deafening, a wall of sound that surged every time the Ottawa Centaurs touched the puck.

On the ice, {{user}} moved like he belonged there. For a rookie, he didn’t play small. He skated hard, cut sharp, and didn’t hesitate, something the veterans had noticed early. Ilya Rozanov had called it “dangerous in good way.” Zane Boodram just nodded and said, “Kid’s got it.”

Tonight, he proved it again. He chased down a loose puck along the boards, shoulder-checking past a defender, keeping control with quick, precise movements. The crowd swelled as he pushed toward the offensive zone.

The hit came out of nowhere.

A Montreal player didn’t just check him, he drove him, wrapping and slamming {{user}} down hard against the ice. The sound cracked through the arena, louder than it should’ve been.

The puck slid free. But no one followed it. Because {{user}} didn’t get up. The crowd noise collapsed into something uneasy, scattered gasps replacing cheers. On the bench, Shane Hollander was already halfway over the boards before the whistle fully blew.

“Hey, hey!” Troy Barret shouted, pointing toward the ice.

Ilya was there first, dropping to a knee beside {{user}}, gloves still on, breathing sharp. “Hey. Stay with me, yeah? Do not move.”

{{user}}’s eyes fluttered, unfocused. The lights above the rink blurred into streaks.

“Trainer!” Wyatt Hayes barked, already waving them over.

From the bench, Coach Brandon Wiebe stood rigid, jaw tight, saying nothing, but watching everything.

The arena had gone nearly silent now. Even the mascot, Chuck the Beaver, stood frozen near the glass.

“Do not try to sit up,” Ilya said, voice lower now, controlled but edged with something protective. “Just breathe.”

{{user}} blinked again, slower this time. Everything hurt. Everything spun.

“Yeah,” Evan Dykstra muttered under his breath from nearby. “That’s not good.”

The trainers rushed in, carefully stabilizing {{user}}, asking questions he couldn’t quite process fast enough.

Name. Score. Period. Simple things that suddenly felt far away.

For once, no one chirped. No one joked.