Rise of a Football God-Chapter 446: Champions league finalists

FWEEE!

The final whistle pierced through the thick Milanese night like the cry of a divine decree. The game… was over.

Silence, brief, solemn silence.

The FC Barcelona players could not believe it, they had done it; 0-1 at the San Siro, 4-3 on aggregate.

They had done it. They had beaten Real Madrid in the Copa del Rey final, played Inter Milan right after in the first leg, and now ended it with a victory in enemy turf, at the San Siro.

In that instant, the tension that had gripped the visitors' hearts for ninety minutes shattered into unfiltered, uncontainable euphoria.

The Barcelona bench erupted; coaches, players, and staff spilling onto the pitch like a tidal wave of blue and garnet. Hansi Flick leapt into the arms of his assistants, fists raised, eyes gleaming with vindication.

The joy of the German coach could not be contained.

Sam fell to his knees, arms spread to the heavens, a quiet prayer lost in the roar. Even he could not believe it.

Heck, this was his first season competing in the UEFA Champions League and now, he was already in the final of the elite competition of European clubs.

Not just that, that goal in the 55th minute of the game made it 17 for Sam this season in the UEFA Champions League.

Cristiano Ronaldo was the record holder of the most goals scored in a single UEFA Champions League season with 17, and after this unforgettable night in Milan, Sam just wrote his name in footballing folklore again.

He matched Cristiano Ronaldo's record.

And if he went on to score another goal in the final, he would have eclipsed the legendary Portuguese forward, claiming a record from him.

All these were thoughts for the future. Now, all he thought of was how happy he was; the joy, the euphoria, it was unmistakably striking.

Gavi sprinted toward the away fans, thumping the Barca crest on his chest, screaming something no one could hear but everyone could feel.

'VISCA BARCA!'

The players embraced like survivors, worn from battle but unbroken.

Tears welled in Pedri's eyes; hot tears of pride, of struggle, of dream reignited. Raphinha climbed the advertising boards and stood tall, arms outstretched, soaking in the adoration from the traveling cules, who had drowned out a city in celebration.

In the away corner of the San Siro, Barcelona's faithful shook the very foundations with their noise.

Flags waved like flames in a storm. Flares lit up the night. Some cried, others sang. All of them believed again.

And in brutal contrast, the Curva Nord fell into stunned silence.

Inter fans stood motionless, blue and black scarves limp in their hands. Some shouted in frustration, others quietly made for the exits, heads bowed, hearts broken. The dream of Istanbul had died in their own cathedral.

As the players gathered in midfield, hand in hand, facing the away stand, the stadium was divided between defiance and despair.

One half of San Siro had become holy ground; the other a graveyard of lost hope. The commentary cemented the moment in history.

The commentators went haywire. "Barca are UEFA champions league finalists again!"

From the smoke and steel of San Siro's heart, they carved a path with grit and art".

"Not just a goal, but a reckoning, a roar as Barca rose, Champions once more".

"Through jeers and fire, they found their light".

"In enemy lands, they claimed the night".

"The echoes of Milan shall long recall, the night the giants danced and did not fall".

Sam won the man of the match award.

And of course, he added to the post-match press conference.

…

(UEFA Champions League:)

(Semifinal:)

(Leg 2 of 2:)

(PSG – Arsenal)

(Aggregate: 1-0)

(Date: 7th May, 2026)

It was 7th May, 2026…

The atmosphere at the Parc des' Princes was electric as Parisian fans welcomed their England counterparts all the way from London.

It was the 2nd day of UEFA Champions League football, the 2nd semifinal.

This time, between PSG and Arsenal.

Last week, while Inter held Barca to a 3-3 draw at the Spotify Camp Nou, PSG showed their superiority in enemy soil, fertilizing the seeds of qualification with a 0-1 win at the Emirates Stadium in London.

And now, the return leg of the UEFA Champions League clash started.

FWEEEE!

Last week, PSG dominated, but tonight, they blew their opponents away.

Buoyed by the loud noise being made by their fans, PSG played like a well-oiled machine churning with unmatched efficiency as they ground Arsenal to the bones and yet, against the run of play, the London club scored first.

And it was their starboy who struck, Bukayo Saka.

Receiving the ball from the right, he wriggled past his marker, ventured close to the 18-yard box, evaded a few challenges before curling an absolute golazo into the top left corner of the net past Donnarumma's grasp.

18 minutes, 0-1, 1-1 on aggregate…

Was that the premise to an Arsenal comeback?

No. Simple as that.

That goal was the catalyst that riled the rampant Parisians up. PSG woke up like an Ancient Dragon that had slumbered for a millennium who finally woke up, and with it, they tore Arsenal to shreds.

Khvicha Kvaratskhelia was the architect for the Arsenal downfall.

The Georgian scored the first goal just 4 minutes after Saka's goal in the 22nd minute, curling a similar shot from the left this time. Despite David Raya going on a full stretch dive, the rotating ball evaded his touch and nestled into the net.

In the 33rd minute, Kvaratskhelia did it again, dribbling through multiple Arsenal players before passing the ball for Mikel Merino to direct into the net.

The comeback was complete!

And yet, PSG was not satisfied yet.

In the 45th minute, Dembele went on a rampaging dribble that cut through Arsenal players like they were not there before setting Kvaratskhelia up again for the winger to curl into the net a second time.

18 minutes, 0-1…

45 minutes, 3-1…

The fortunes of this game changed so suddenly, so fast.

The game ended in the first half. The second half was much more tame, a goalless draw.

Arsenal lost. PSG qualified.

The UEFA Champions League finalists were confirmed.