The rain hadn't stopped, but by the end, it no longer mattered.
The whistle came like a gunshot — sharp, final — and the Emirates Stadium exploded.
Not into chaos, but into reverence.
Arsenal 3, Manchester United 0.
The scoreboard glowed through the drizzle like a monument to dominance.
Izan stood just off-center, hands on hips, chest heaving.
Steam rose from his shoulders as if the night couldn't quite hold in the heat he'd brought with him.
Somewhere to the left, Gabriel had already lifted his fists while Saka clapped toward the fans.
Havertz turned and pointed — not to the scoreboard, but to the number 10 walking slowly toward the sideline.
And then the sound came.
First, a ripple.
Then a rising swell.
"I-ZAN! I-ZAN! I-ZAN!"
It wasn't a chant anymore. It was a prayer.
The entire squad turned.
Players clapped.
Ben White gave him a little push between the shoulders, telling him to go take it in.
Izan didn't smile right away.
