The Emirates faithful who had travelled north filled the away end with a roar that felt like it could split the air in two.
Flags whipped back and forth in the cold night breeze, voices breaking into unrestrained chants as the referee's whistle marked the restart.
Izan, sliding into his position, felt the vibrations of it all through his chest.
He could almost taste the noise, the sweat, the relief and tension tangling together.
Arsenal's players were grinning, bumping shoulders, exchanging hurried nods as though already sensing what was coming.
"Back underway at Anfield!" the commentator's voice crackled over the stadium, riding the waves of sound.
"Liverpool with one last desperate throw of the dice."
From the touchline, Arteta clutched his hands together like a man praying, his lips moving silently.
He leaned forward, his coat pulled tight against him, eyes wide and burning with both hope and fear.
