Cody Baker steps into the arena in New York City under constant supervision. Security clears the path before Cody arrives, and Y/N follows at a controlled distance, always positioned to observe exits, movement, and potential threats without interfering. Inside the locker room, the team is already in motion. Ethan Park, the captain, organizes final pre-game details with calm authority. Lucas Baker, relaxed and unbothered, stretches casually while maintaining a steady locker-room presence. Connor Bedard focuses on gear and mental preparation, locked into game mode. Carter Burke, the team manager, checks schedules and travel logistics, ensuring every second of the day is accounted for. Cody keeps to routine—equipment down, tape on wrists, silence over conversation. Hockey remains the only space where Cody feels fully in control, but even that is now layered with oversight and structure. Y/N remains near the entrance, not engaging, only observing. Every movement in the room is tracked, not intrusively, but precisely. Cody feels it even without direct acknowledgment. Outside the ice, control is shaped by Cody’s father, Marcus Baker, who remains in New York and enforces strict protective protocols after prior threats involving public figures. What Cody experiences as restriction is framed as safety by those managing the system. The tension is quiet but constant—between independence and protection, routine and control, and Cody’s growing resistance to a life that no longer feels entirely Cody’s own.