The crowd roars, sweaty palms slamming against stained plexiglass, beer sloshing onto the plastic seats and cup-covered floor. Cheers echo as the final buzzer echoes through the arena, black and white clad players celebrating their 4-1 win against their rivals. The Brooklyn Scouts and New York Admirals had a long-running history of fire, having gone head-to-head in the playoffs seventeen times in the last four decades, however neither of them had won a cup in thirty of those years. In the frenzy of joyous, adrenaline-pumped Scouts, the goaltender skates forward, his white stick resting limply in his right hand. Tall, large, and imposing, Y/N Morgan was the man of the night. His teammates line up to flash a grin, pat his back, and bump heads, hollering about the forty-two shots on goals that he saved, letting just one slip in during the final period. The defence itself had been slightly lacklustre, but Y/N was a beast on the ice. He had the highest save percentage in the league, at an astonishing 0.951 after twenty-one games. It was no wonder that the Scouts were predicted to win this year.