The game continued, and Pedri stole the show.

Every touch, every flick now elicited reactions from the fans; cheers from the tiny away Barcelona supporters, and gasps and anxiety from the home fans as they booed him.

But Pedri remained unfazed; he was already in the zone state.

Tak… tak… tak…

Triangles formed in the midfield as the midfielders began clicking to Pedri's rhythm, the rhythm of tiki-taka reborn under Hansi Flick's orchestration.

Pedri's elegance and virtuoso met De Jong's calm. And somehow, Gavi managed to click with them too, pressing relentlessly like a machine that had no belief in the weak reality called wear and tear.

And as the midfield clicked, Pedri beginning to run rings around Juventus's own midfielders, the attack also began to click.

What followed next was to easy to guess.

With the midfield unlocking themselves with Pedri's brilliance, Sam now in a false nine role started to come alive.

He also entered the zone state.

BZZZ!

He moved like a phantom, and floated like a bee.

With his tongue stuck out, his eyes dilated in ecstasy and flow, he drifted about.

He didn't stay in one place. He was everywhere. He'd drift right, pull Gatti with him, spin back toward midfield, then drift left again, leaving the Juventus midfielders baffled and always second-guessing his decisions.

Juventus' defenders began to argue among themselves, unsure who should follow.

Bremer yelled at Gatti. "Stay with him! Stay with him!"

But Sam was already gone.

Bzzz!

He trapped a long pass from Pedri, flicked it behind his heel, and spun away, leaving Locatelli chasing shadows. The crowd gasped, and even the Juventus fans had to applaud that as some grabbed their head in disbelief.

"MY GOD!" The commentator finally found his voice. "Pedri, what a beauty, Pedri + Sam is a divine connection!"

"He's toying with them!"

"Sam, what a baller! He's chaos incarnate!"

Juventus were already rattled, and Barca capitalized in the 72nd minute as the build-up of the past few minutes finally bore fruit.

Pedri intercepted a loose pass, and immediately slipped it through to Sam in the middle. Sam, with two defenders on his back, dropped a shoulder and turned.

Bzzz!

He was gone.

He burst forward, but Bremer immediately dived in recklessly to stop him, willing to take a yellow card for the team. But anticipating it with his spatial awareness, Sam slipped the ball to Raphinha on the left.

Raphinha took one touch… two, then he cut inside.

The Brazilian didn't hesitate, he let fly from the edge of the box.

BANG!

The shot was like a rocket, and the net bulged.

GOAL!

[3–2! 4–5 ON AGGREGATE!]

Barcelona's bench erupted.

Hansi Flick could not hold his joy in this time as he jumped with exuberant energy, punching a fist at the air in celebration.

"And they're back!" The commentator screamed. "FC Barcelona were never going to let the game end like that!"

"Raphinha, what a shot!"

Raphinha whirled away toward the corner flag. He had a big smile plastered on his face as he slid on his knees with his fingers raised to the sky.

Sam arrived seconds later, grabbing him in a bear hug as Lamine Yamal also arrived and jumped over the two of them in celebration.

That was all it took to flip the switch.

The momentum of the game flipped.

Juventus tried to regroup, but they were rattled. Barcelona would not let them, not with Pedri and Sam already in the flow state.

They smelled blood, and they went at it again.

And just 3 minutes after the go ahead goal, Barcelona struck again in the 75th minute to sink Juventus's momentum completely.

Lamine Yamal, electric on the right, pressed Cambiaso and stole possession, forcing a turnover as he sprinted down the wing, catching Juventus off-guard before cutting the ball back to Raphinha.

Raphinha didn't try anything fancy. He looked up once, then he curled it perfectly into the box.

And Sam rose like thunder.

Thud!

He hung in the air longer than physics should allow.

The header? It was perfecto, clean and unstoppable, leaving the goalkeeper rooted to one spot as it nestled straight into the top corner.

GOAL!

[3–3! 4–6 ON AGGREGATE!]

The Allianz fell silent.

Only the Blaugrana fans could be heard as their roars echoed through the Turin night even as Sam whirled away in celebration.

Sam charged towards the corner flag, removing his jersey as he aggressively threw it to the ground before standing in front of the camera, flexing his muscles.

Click! Click!

The cameras flashed.

The moment was immortalized.

"Cometh the hour, cometh the Football God!" The commentator laughed amid tears in his booth. "What a game, my goodness!"

"Barcelona is unstoppable!"

Igor Tudor, the Juventus coach slammed his hands against the railing, shouting orders. He could see his team cracking.

Barcelona had a two goal lead now, and Juventus tried to stage a last stand.

They threw everything forward.

Kenan Yildiz exploded as he held nothing back, tormenting Jules Kounde as the French defender struggled to keep up. The Turkish wonderkid was reckless now, no longer caring if he lost possession in the process as he just tried to create something out of nothing.

A few minutes later, Koopmeiners' cross flashed past the goal as Locatelli unleashed a thunderbolt at goal, only for Garcia to pull off a stunning fingertip save!

On the other side, Alejandro Balde was everywhere, intercepting, blocking, tackling, and also pushing the attack at every opportunity that he got.

Araujo screamed himself hoarse organizing the defense, and Pau Cubarsi was his reliable partner in crime as they smothered every Juve attack.

Sam was defending too now, sprinting 60 yards back to win the ball off Cambiaso at one point. He looked spent but defiant.

It was already the late stages of the game. It looked unlikely now but the Allianz crowd didn't give up on their team, they supported their players still as they roared, trying to breathe life back into their team, but it was slipping away.

And as Juventus surged forward, Barca added the dagger late in the 88th minute of the game to destroy any delusions of a comeback.

Juventus sent everyone up for a corner, leaving only their goalkeeper behind. Locatelli whipped it in, but it was cleared by Balde.

The ball fell to Sam near the halfway line.

He killed it dead with one touch, then… he exploded with blistering pace.

He sprinted forward like a cheetah unleashed.

Bremer chased, Gatti too.

Sam feinted right and spun left, sending both defenders sliding the wrong way as the away Barcelona fans rose up to their feet in anticipation with hands on their head, admiring the Football God in action.

Now it was two on one. On the other side of the pitch, he spotted Raphinha tearing down the flank with pace.

Perfect timing.

Bam!

Sam played the ball long towards Raphinha.

Raphinha was ahead of all Juventus players but since he started the run in his team's half when Sam played the ball, it was not called for offside.

The Brazilian took the ball in stride, sprinted forward, and then stormed into the box, prowling towards the goalkeeper like a predator.

The goalkeeper tried to rush forward, but…

BOOM!

Raphinha struck it, straight into the far corner.

GOAL!

Barcelona fans exploded.

[3–4! (Aggregate 4–7!)]

Barcelona had killed the game.

Sam dropped to his knees, arms wide close to the 18 yard box as Raphinha ran straight into him, screaming with joy.

The Barcelona bench emptied, briefly charging into the pitch in celebration as Hansi Flick stood, grinning from ear to ear.

The Juventus fans stood frozen.

Some booed, others just stared in disbelief, while some cried.

FWEEEE!

The fulltime whistle blew.

[Juventus 3-4 Barcelona (Aggregate: 4-7)]

Barcelona were through.

Not by dominance, bot by comfort, but by sheer force of will.

The FC Barcelona players started their celebrations right there on the pitch as they hugged each other, savoring the moment.

A few Juventus players approached them to swap shirts, Jonathan David coming for Sam and he agreed.

Pedri didn't score a single goal, yet he won the man of the match award. His unreal performance in midfield was what turned the tide of the game.

Hansi Flick shook his midfielder's hand firmly as he came off. "This is what champions look like". He grinned.

The cameras soon zoomed in on Sam's exhausted but smiling face. Sweat, mud, and glory painted across it.

He turned to the away fans, pounding the crest on his chest. The chants rained down from the stands:

"BARÇA!" "BARÇA!" "BARÇA!"

As Sam walked down the tunnel alongside his usual buddies, he glanced once more at the scoreboard.

He smiled. "We bend, but we never break".

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