The roar of the San Siro was a physical force, a wave of sound that washed over Leon as his teammates carried him on their shoulders.
Seventy-thousand voices chanted in unison, a thunderous, two-part chorus that shook the very foundations of the stadium.
"INTER! INTER! INTER!"
Then, seamlessly, it shifted.
"LEON! LEON! LEON!"
He looked out at the sea of blue and black scarves, the ecstatic faces, the arms raised in triumph.
A grin was plastered on his face, so wide it made his cheeks ache. Julián Álvarez was on his left, laughing and patting his back, while Lautaro Martínez held his leg steady on the right, shouting something that was lost in the beautiful noise.
Cole Palmer was right there with them, his usual cool expression replaced by one of pure, unadulterated joy.
The energy followed them off the pitch and into the dressing room, where the celebration exploded.
Music blared from a speaker in the corner, a driving beat that vibrated through the floor.
