The Emirates pulsed with expectancy.
Scarlet and white rippled through the stands like waves, flags flaring, voices swelling.
Fans had come for a show, and Arsenal looked ready to deliver one.
Right from the whistle, they pressed up the pitch, the front three—Saka, Havertz, and Izan, who was playing in the left wing role—surging with purpose, dragging Shakhtar's midfield back, pulling their defenders into uncomfortable spaces.
Izan, drifting between the lines like smoke, picked up the first real thread of danger.
He received the ball near the halfway line, shrugged off a mild tug from Valeriy Bondar, and zipped forward with that gliding pace that always looked effortless until it wasn't.
Two orange shirts closed in, looking to shut down Izan, but he twisted through them, nudging the ball right to Merino, who flicked it on with one touch for Saka.
The Emirates rose in anticipation.
