"This is Sky Sports, reporting live from Berlin, Germany, right outside the Arsenal team hotel."
The reporter's voice carried a mix of excitent and urgency as rain poured steadily around him.
"Rain began falling in Berlin at 3 PM this afternoon. We are expecting up to 23mm over the next 24 hours, with the heaviest downpour — potentially reaching 70mm — forecast around 6 PM. We can only hope the weather clears in ti and does not affect tonight's showpiece event."
"Despite the heavy rain, it has done nothing to dampen the incredible atmosphere. Since early afternoon, thousands of fans from both Arsenal and Juventus have taken to the streets in colourful parades. It is estimated that nearly 100,000 supporters have descended upon Berlin for this Champions League final."
"And now, Arsenal's team bus is about to depart for the Berlin Olympic Stadium. They will leave in just five minutes."
The reporter suddenly paused, his voice rising with excitent. "Look! Here they co!"
Through the rain-streaked cara lens, Arsenal players could be seen erging from the hotel and boarding the team bus. The heavy rain and security barriers made it difficult to see their expressions clearly, but the palpable tension in the air was unmistakable.
At the sa ti, across the city, the Juventus team bus was also preparing to depart. Both buses set off almost simultaneously.
. . .
Inside the Arsenal bus, the atmosphere was thick with nervous energy.
"Oh God, I'm so nervous," Cazorla muttered, taking repeated deep breaths. His heart was pounding so hard he felt nauseous.
The expressions on the faces of his teammates were equally solemn. For most of these players, this was their first-ever Champions League final, and the weight of the occasion was clearly pressing down on them.
A short while after the bus began moving, flashing red and blue lights appeared through the rain-streaked windows, accompanied by the sound of police sirens.
"What's that?" Cazorla asked, turning his head.
"Police escort!" Chamberlain pointed excitedly.
There were police cars on both sides of the bus, with three police motorcycles leading the way ahead. In total, the convoy consisted of three motorcycles and four police cars.
The players' eyes widened with a mixture of awe and heightened nerves.
"This is the real deal," soone whispered.
Kai sat quietly toward the back of the bus. As he watched the impressive escort, his own heart beat faster. This was the mont countless players could only dream of — and now he was living it. In less than two hours, they would walk out onto the pitch for the Champions League final.
He ran both hands through his hair and took several slow, deep breaths, trying to steady himself.
. .
"The Arsenal team bus, under full police escort, is now crossing the iconic Oberbaum Bridge, making its way toward the Berlin Olympic Stadium for the Champions League final."
"The Juventus bus has passed through Tondern Street and is also approaching the stadium. They are expected to arrive in approximately five minutes."
Berlin's local radio and television stations were providing continuous live updates, broadcasting the movents of both teams to fans across the city.
. . .
At the players' entrance to the stadium, Arsenal fans had gathered in huge numbers despite the rain. The area around the team bus lane was completely packed.
"You lot ready? We're going to make so noise!" Billy shouted.
"We can't let the Italians out-sing us!" another fan yelled.
The sea of red and white supporters looked incredibly tense, but their determination burned brightly. They were ready to roar their team on every step of the way.
The Arsenal fans had been waiting anxiously, ready to erupt the mont the team bus appeared.
Suddenly, the flashing lights of police motorcycles rounded the corner. The supporters held their breath in collective anticipation.
The next second, the Arsenal bus erged through the heavy rain. In that instant, a fire ignited in every fan's chest, and a thunderous roar erupted into the Berlin night.
Two massive waves of sound collided as both team buses arrived almost simultaneously. The rival fan groups unleashed everything they had.
"Arsenal!"
"Juventus!"
"Arsenal!"
"Juventus!"
Rain lashed across their faces, soaking their hair and clothes. Water stread into their eyes and mouths, carrying the earthy scent of wet concrete. Yet none of it could dampen their passion. Faces twisted with fervent emotion, they poured their hearts into every chant, every victory cry.
Inside the Arsenal bus, the players felt the raw power of those roars reverberating through their chests.
Arsène Wenger was the first to rise. Kai followed, moving from the back of the bus toward the exit. But as he reached the doorway, he froze.
A breathtaking scene greeted him.
Wenger stood outside in the pouring rain beside the bus. On both sides of the narrow corridor leading into the stadium, barriers were lined with Arsenal fans reaching out desperately. Their faces were drenched, yet their eyes burned with fierce intensity as they stared at Kai.
They were waiting for him.
Wenger nodded toward the fans and shouted over the roar of the rain, "Go on!"
Kai took a deep breath and stepped off the bus.
Slap!
He first exchanged a firm high-five with Wenger, then extended both hands to the fans on either side, slapping palms as he walked slowly through the corridor. The rest of the Arsenal players followed, doing the sa.
"Go on, Arsenal!"
"Kai! We believe in you — you're our captain!"
"Cazorla! Show them what you can do!"
"Navas! Keep the goal safe for us!"
"Di María! Bring us the Champions League!"
"Suárez! Score for us!"
The emotional weight of those voices struck every player deeply. Their expressions grew solemn and determined as they absorbed the unwavering support.
Five minutes later, the Arsenal squad finally entered the stadium.
The Berlin Olympic Stadium, with its capacity of 72,000, was a sea of colour and noise. Each club had been allocated 26,000 tickets, with the remaining 20,000 going to local and neutral fans.
The Arsenal section, located on the left side, was a vibrant wall of red and white. Large flags bearing the club crest whipped violently in the wind and rain.
Most moving of all were the black-and-white portraits held aloft — images of deceased Arsenal supporters whose families had brought them here so they could witness this historic mont together.
[Image]
"It's truly magnificent…" Cazorla murmured in awe.
Kai gazed upward at the sea of portraits, his expression hardening with resolve.
"Another reason not to lose," he said quietly.
He turned and began his warm-up with focused intensity.
On the opposite side of the pitch, Juventus were also going through their preparations. Paul Pogba had recovered from a bout of food poisoning that caused him to miss the semi-final. The Frenchman's return added significant strength to their midfield.
Kai knew that with him playing as a dedicated defensive midfielder, his long-range passing would be restricted. Juventus, led by the master Pirlo, would likely look to exploit that. If Pirlo's influence was neutralised, they would be forced into short-passing combinations — an area where they were far less comfortable.
The stage was set. Under torrential rain and an electric atmosphere, the 2014-2015 Champions League final was about to begin.
. . .
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