The ball swerved like it was cursed, dipping beneath the bar but only after it kissed the inside of the post.
Henderson didn't move.
He couldn't and the irony, he knew since the ball left Izan's foot.
"GOOOOOAAAALLLLLLLLL!" Jon Champion's voice cracked like thunder.
"IZAN HAS DONE IT!" Sutton shouted over him.
"MY GOD! What a goal! What a moment! That's a cup quarter-final strike!"
"From the brink of elimination to resurrection—Arsenal are alive!"
Izan didn't even so much as flinch after the goal.
He jogged into the goal, picked the ball up like it was his birthright, and jogged it back to the center circle.
No screaming.
No smile.
Just intention.
He placed the ball on the center dot, then stood over it like a captain at war.
Guehi and Eze were still breathing heavily, hands on hips, trying to shake the punch to the ribs that goal had delivered.
They'd spent their energy celebrating the save.
But the real danger had been waiting behind it.
