The sun dipped gently over Munich, the Allianz Arena casting a soft glow even in the late afternoon.
On the far training pitch adjoining the stadium complex, Barcelona's players moved through their drills, with the sharpness and intensity that only a final could conjure.
The sharp sound of boots brushing grass, the short bursts of Catalan chatter, and the whistle of an assistant cutting across the air all blended into a rhythm.
On the touchline, Hansi Flick stood, arms folded, eyes tracking a passing sequence between Pedri and Casado.
His assistant, Marcus Sorg, edged closer, a tablet in hand, before standing right beside the former Bayern Manager.
"They've been here for a day now," Sorg murmured, low enough that only Flick would catch it.
Flick didn't shift his eyes from the pitch.
"That wasn't their plan, was it?"
Sorg nodded.
"Came straight into Munich. A bit rushed. They were supposed to leave on Friday, but… well, you can guess why."
