Igor sat down on the bench, freaking out. It was clear that of the exposed players, he would be one of the most likely ones to be taken. Just in case it happened, Igor had a syringe in his hand. He was ready to give himself a fatal injection if needed.

The day Igor had dreaded had arrived.

He woke up from his nap terrified about how things might go. Igor had known Eko as a teammate for about a year. Although the two had grown close, Igor wasn't exactly interested in being traded a second time. Eko knew that well. Before the draft, Eko had approached Igor to reassure him that there was no way that he would be separated from the Pack so soon. In fact, Igor had made it known that it would be "dead if drafted". However, there was an issue with this approach. Igor did not know Tig at all. Tig would probably select players strategically, randomly even. He would pick the best of what he had and move on. There was no telling what Tig would do, and Igor could be selected in the chaos. This terrified Igor every time it was Tig's turn to pick. Igor's fate would rest entirely in Eko's trust, especially once the middle of the draft came.

Igor's strategy was just to wait things out, one hand holding the stick, the other hand with the syringe. There was nothing that could be done other than death. Minutes before the draft, Igor started to feel sick.

BOOOOOONG!!!!!

The bell sounded to start the draft. Names rapidly started to fall. These were the guys who would be gone.

"Cassius Darrow!"

That was expected. No surprises.

"Lee! O'Shea! Vanice! Skinner! Brown! Gotze!"

A team had already fallen. Yawn. Why worry? It didn't concern Igor at this point.

"And Darzins!"

Volkov still felt a bit okay. He was slowly hoping the draft would be paused, but he also wanted to get it rapidly over with. His apathy started to fade as more names fell.

"Ziza- Zizag... Zizagooney! And Beizhatnov, no, Beibitzihanov, no, Beibitzhanov. Geoff More! Wanesly! Or is it Wanesly? How do you pronounce that? Wah-neh-slee?"

Igor didn't know and he didn't care.

"And Kane! Twist! Smyth!"

The draft was already halfway over. Things started to slow down.

"Sheb! Sixnine!"

Igor went from being quite apathetic about the draft to being in a horrified panic. The media was already speculating that Igor would be quickly drafted by either team. He was one of the most valuable exposed players who was still on the board. The only thing going for him was Eko, and it was Eko's turn to pick.

"And we select Explosion! And Zadina!"

Tig's turn. New England was still on the board. Igor gulped. He remembered his syringe. Should he stab himself now? Or wait to know if he would be picked? It felt like a bad dream. Perhaps a repeating bad dream. Volkov was already writing out a death note in case it came to that.

"In case you scribble scribble scribble scribble, then you know what scribble. Do not scribble scribble in case of scribble." Several more sentences followed. Igor had just finished writing out the final sentence and was signing his name when the announcement came.

"And we select..."

Igor grasped his syringe tight, winding up his arm, ready to stab himself.

"McMahon and Egger!"

Eko now. The risk of Tig selecting him grew higher with each passing moment.

Apparently Eko wanted Igor to remain alive, and selected Egger and Hroch off of New England, closing the window.

"New England will remain Clean!" the viewers shouted.

Igor didn't care too much about Andrei. He just felt a great relief to remain with the Pack.

"AAAAAAWWWWWWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!"

"Svensson! Kennedy! Carragher! Barbashev! Cleary!"

"Wait, wasn't Cleary-"

"And Kayhall! Smeb!"

The "trash inactives" stage had passed.

"And finally, Eko and Tig select themselves!"

Igor put away the syringe and destroyed what he was writing.

Six o'clock. Two terrifying hours had passed.

The draft was perhaps less terrifying than he thought. Igor returned to the rink for the night to initiate the nightly Wolfpack howl.