Although the All-Star Game has ended, the arena is silent with the audience as the spotlights whirl around them and the ice. They watch the players in the Metropolitan team and the Central team drift to the center of the ice for their handshake.

Behind the Metropolitan team, the boards rise off the ice to create an opening for a four-door silver Honda to roll out onto the ice. Its headlights shine through the fading darkness, penetrating straight at the hockey players. Its engine then revs before it shoots out toward the gathered players.

From the other side of the ice, Mikko Rantanen spots the charging car and points to it. “CAR!!!”

Everyone whirls around on their skates’ blades and throw their eyes wide open.

The car blasts up to them and slams into a pulsing red-tinted wall of energy. In front of the wall is Braden Holtby, who holds his palms against its vibrating surface.

“Get out of here!” Braden shouts.

Sidney Crosby spins on his skates to face the others. “Everyone leave! The power players will escort the crew and audience out!” He motions them to move with his hands. “Now go, go, go!”

A handful of hockey players disperse into the tunnels with the arena’s and television station’s personnel on the ice as the others fly up to the audience area. The audience swarms out of the room in cries.

Braden keep his sharp eyes at the tinted windshield of the car through his ergokinetic shield. The car roars its engine and exerts more force against him. Braden grunts and pushes against it, digging his blades into the ice.

Its headlights pierce through the red-colored translucent shield as it squeaks closer to the goalie.

“Ugh!!!” Braden dips his head, letting his hair hang over his face, as he throws his whole strength into his shield. His arms shake, his skates shift.

From the entrance of the tunnel behind the home bench, Marc-André Fleury pops his head out into the rink.

He gawks at the stagnant battle between the goalie and the automobile. “Wh-what’s happening?!”

“Get out of here!” Braden yells at the ice. “We got a deranged—”

The car sounds its engine and scoots closer.

“UGH!” He bends his trembling arms toward the shield. “—car! Go get everyone safe— AH!”

The car gives one last push, blasting through the shield. Braden flies onto his back as the vehicle soars over him and lands on the ice behind him. It makes a slight turn to crash through the boards and disappear through the ice resurfacer’s tunnel.

Braden rolls onto his stomach and scrambles up to his skates. He gawks at the flattened boards displaying the gaping hole to the tunnel. “No!”

He instantly launches up into the air with a stream of red energy and whizzes down the car’s trail.

Marc-André, now standing behind the boards in the bench, follows him with his eyes as he watches him disappear through the tunnel. He then whistles with two fingers and turns around.

A white horse trots through the tunnel behind him and halts next to him. He hops onto its back and materializes a golden sword.

He holds it up in the air and bellows, “Allons-y, Farine!” Let’s go, Farine!

The horse lets out a neigh with a toss of its two front hooves in the air before galloping onto the ice and into the gaping tunnel.

---

An ice cream shop sits in the bustling night of Downtown San Jose. Its door opens as Patrik Laine strolls onto the sidewalk. In his hand is a vanilla ice cream waffle cone; on his face is a large, toothy grin.

Suddenly, the car streaks past him.

Patrik stands, shocked. His hair and beard is spiked up in all directions. His hand holds a bare waffle cone.

Soaring over the car, Braden spins a blue-colored projectile in his hand and hurls it down.

The energy slices through the left black tire, flattening it. The car jerks at the malfunction, yet speeds down the street.

Braden surveys the area around the car. Becoming parallel to the car’s driver side is Marc-André on his white horse.

“Flower!” he shouts down to him over the winds. “Get the two front tires!”
Marc-André wields his sword. “Right on it!”

He swings his sword downward at the car and swipes its blade across the left tire. He then emits a zap of golden energy underneath the car to strike the other tire.

Braden looks ahead at the car’s path, spotting that the street curves with a wide walkway jutting out. He gasps and shoots his hands out at the walkway ahead.

A curved, red-colored ergokinetic bridge materializes over the walkway with guard rails on its both sides.

The car propels up the bridge as if it is the road and shakes as it crashes against the guard rails. The guard rails force it to curve along with the road.

Marc-André follows after it on the bridge.

As it reaches the tight point of the curve, Braden conjures another blue projectile and tosses it at the last inflated tire. It rips through the rubber as the car begins to descend.

The vehicle drops downhill and flies down the street. The rubber from its tires flap and shoot out from its sides, revealing its rims. It continues zooming down the road as sparks fly from the contact of its rims and the road’s asphalt.

Braden hovers over his makeshift bridge. “WHAT?!” He closes his fists, dissolving his construct, and darts after it. “STOP DRIVING!!!”

“Wow, this is a tough car, eh?” Marc-André remarks from next to it.

“GET THE ENGINE!” Braden then gasps as he spots the car roaring up to a bustling intersection with a red light.

Marc-André grins up at him. “Great idea!”

Braden throws his hands out in front of him and creates two red-colored walls blocking oncoming traffic and an ergokinetic box around pedestrians crossing the car’s path. He lifts the box up just as the car dashes across the crosswalks and intersection.

Marc-André gawks at the glowing defenses while crossing the intersection. “Uh, I’ll get the engine, since you’re—”

“Yup!” Braden then releases the restraints, letting the traffic and pedestrians go. He continues dashing after the car.

Marc-André peers up at him. “But you’ll need to launch me!” He waves his sword toward the hood of the car. “I can’t reach the hood with like—”

Braden throws his hand upward in the air.

Instantly, a blast of energy boosts Marc-André off from his horse and into the air; his horse dissolves.

He does a flip before descending, the tip of his sword coming before him straight at the growing car. His sword’s blade sinks into the hood; his feet land on the hood with a thud!

The car instantly sputters and halts in its tracks. Its headlights blink off; its engine quiets down.

Braden lowers himself to the driver’s side of the car, hovering over the asphalt. Marc-André pulls his sword out and climbs off the car; he joins his side and dematerializes his sword.

Braden huffs and brushes his disheveled hair out from his eyes. “It’s always the engine. Always.”

The driver’s door then pops open. A man in a suit scrambles out and makes a mad dash down the sidewalk. The two goalies follow him with surprised eyes.

“Oh,” Marc-André squeaks. “Poor fellow.”

Braden peers back at the dead car. “Uh, well, I guess we should take this car back and stop causing…” He flicks his eyes to the traffic building up behind the car’s lane. “...traffic.”

The other goalie gazes at the traffic, then him. “I’ll follow you back!”

Braden holds his hands out at the car, his palms facing the sky. A box-shaped ergokinetic construct forms around the vehicle and lifts it off the asphalt.

He turns to the Golden Knights’ power player. “You get the poor driver then come back.”

Marc-André nods. “Right, right!”

He then whistles. His horse trots back to him and halts by his side. He climbs onto its back and peers down at him. “See you at the rink!”

“Sounds good.” Braden then drifts into the sky and floats down their trail. The car sways as it follows him in its glowing restraint in the air.

Marc-André takes his horse’s reins and signals it to turn around. The horse gallops in the direction the frightened man ran in.

“Hopefully, I can prevent him from having nightmares about this…!” he murmurs.


To Be Continued…

Notes

Episode 14/15