Beep-beep. Beep-beep.
The alarm cut through the quiet room.
Le Kai opened his eyes slowly, reached over, and shut it off. The silence returned just as quickly. He lay there for a second, then stretched and turned toward the window.
A thin line of sunlight slipped through the curtains.
"Good," he murmured.
He got up, walked into the living room, and switched on the TV without looking at the screen. The sound filled the space as he headed into the bathroom.
A quick shower and teeth brushing cleared the last traces of sleep.
By the time he stepped back out, towel in hand, his mind was already on the day ahead. He dried his hair as he moved toward the couch, the television now loud enough to catch his attention.
A presenter's voice carried energy that didn't match the early hour.
"Tonight, in London, the quarterfinals of the UEFA Champions League continue at the Emirates Stadium. Arsenal, the last remaining Premier League side, will be in action."
The tournament had reached its decisive stretch.
At this level, there were no easy opponents. Every team left could win it.
Arsenal carried more weight than usual. As the only English club still standing, the spotlight followed them whether they wanted it or not.
But not everyone watching was hoping for their success.
Le Kai picked up the remote and turned the TV off.
He moved with purpose after that. Gear packed, boots checked, bag over his shoulder.
Outside, the morning air was cool.
On the drive toward the training ground, he passed small clusters of fans in red and white. Some waved as cars went by. Others simply stood and talked, already in matchday mode.
The loss to Chelsea hadn't changed much.
For them, it was just one result. It didn't shake belief.
Every strong side drops points. That was understood.
What mattered now was Europe.
At London Colney Training Centre, the crowd was already there.
Dozens of fans lined the entrance, calling out to the players as they arrived. It had become routine on matchdays. No one asked them to come. They showed up anyway.
As long as the team kept pushing, they would be there.
Security guided the cars through.
Inside the dressing room, most of the squad had already arrived.
Le Kai paused for a moment, then raised an eyebrow.
"You're all early today?"
The replies came quickly.
"Couldn't sleep."
"Up since five."
"Went for a run at dawn."
There was no hiding the excitement, mixed with tension.
Le Kai smiled slightly. It was a good sign.
After changing, the team moved out to the pitch for a light session. Nothing heavy. Just enough to wake up the body, loosen the muscles, settle the rhythm.
As they jogged, N'Golo Kanté pulled alongside him.
"You're going to have a lot to deal with today."
Kanté gave a small nod.
The day before, Arsène Wenger had called him aside for a one-on-one talk. It was the first time he had been handed a role this important at this level.
The weight of it showed.
"Don't overthink it," Le Kai said. "I'll cover you. Just focus on the ball."
That eased Kanté a little.
He hesitated, then admitted, "I'm still not sure I understood everything the boss said. What I got was… keep running, keep winning the ball back."
Le Kai let out a short laugh.
"That's enough. That's exactly it."
Kanté blinked. "That's it?"
Le Kai nodded.
"When they have the ball, you stay on them. Tight. You press. If you don't win it, you press again. As long as we're not attacking, we're hunting."
Kanté frowned slightly. "That's going to drain a lot of energy."
Le Kai's expression settled.
"You haven't played a Champions League quarterfinal yet," he said. "At this stage of the UEFA Champions League, every match pushes you to your limit."
He looked ahead, voice steady.
"Both teams want the same thing. There's no second chance. So it's not just about beating them. It's about how long you can hold your level."
A brief pause.
"Growth comes from that."
Kanté nodded again, this time with more certainty.
He had not experienced this stage before. That made it simple in his mind.
Run. Fight. Do everything.
Minutes later, the coaching staff stepped onto the pitch, with Wenger leading the way.
Le Kai clapped his hands once.
"Gather up!"
The squad formed quickly.
Wenger scanned the group, calm as ever.
"Lunch in an hour. Rest after that. One hour nap. Tonight, keep it light. Bananas only."
"Clear!"
The response came in unison.
Wenger gave a small smile and waved them off.
"Good. Go."
The players broke formation.
. . .
Across London, Paris Saint-Germain had just returned to their hotel after a short session at the stadium.
From the moment they arrived, attention followed them.
As Arsenal's opponents, every move mattered.
The question was simple.
Who goes through?
In front of the media, Laurent Blanc did not hesitate.
"The stronger team will advance. We've prepared for this. Paris will win here."
It was enough.
Within minutes, the quote had shifted.
Paris will conquer the Emirates.
That version spread faster.
It reached the fans just as quickly.
Around Emirates Stadium, the reaction was immediate.
Anger, pride, anticipation.
For Arsenal supporters, there was only one answer.
Win.
. . .
As evening settled over London, the stadium lights cut through the dark, flooding the pitch in white.
The noise built in waves, rising and falling, then rising again.
When the players stepped out to the sound of the Champions League anthem, the atmosphere tightened.
"This is the first leg of the quarterfinal," the commentator's voice rang out. "Arsenal against Paris Saint-Germain."
"A clash between two teams chasing the same goal. One from England, one from France. Only one moves closer."
The camera found the center circle.
On one side stood Le Kai.
Opposite him, Thiago Silva.
The referee stepped in, coin in hand.
The coin flipped.
Choices were made.
Both captains turned and jogged back to their teams.
In that moment, the noise surged.
The match had arrived.
. . .
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