The Emirates was still trembling, the crowd's roar spilling over itself, the image of Rice's strike burned into every mind.
As Arsenal made their way back to the halfway line, Ødegaard came up alongside him, one arm slung briefly over his shoulder.
"What on earth was that?" he asked, his voice carrying a mix of awe and disbelief.
Rice let out a short breath, shaking his head.
"I don't even know," he said. "It just… everything felt sharper. Like I could see the whole picture at once."
"Well, whatever it is, keep doing it," Odegaard said.
Izan, a few paces behind, caught the exchange.
A faint smirk tugged at his lips, and with a small shake of the head, he strode past them, letting the moment belong to Rice.
"Small price for such goals," he muttered just as he passed them.
From the stands, the Arsenal faithful found their full voice again, the chant swelling until it drowned out the lingering Madrid whistles.
