The Santiago Bernabeu was buzzing well before kickoff.
Not the euphoric kind of buzz you get when a team is on a six-match winning streak, but the restless, demanding hum of a crowd that had spent the last twenty four hours watching Barcelona dismantle Villarreal 7-0 and now expected their club to answer.
Madrid didn't just have to win. They had to respond.
The scoreboard read:
[Real Madrid vs Celta Vigo – La Liga Matchday 5]
The players warmed up under the blazing stadium lights, every pass and shot accompanied by whistles, applause, or murmurs of judgement.
Xabi Alonso stood near the technical area, arms folded, his stare fixed on his players.
Tonight, he went with a slightly changed starting XI in the same 4-3-3.
Thibaut Courtois started in goal, while ahead of him was the familiar defensive quadruple of Trent Alexander Arnold, Antonio Rudiger, Dean Huijsen, and Ferland Mendy. But the midfield trio was different this time.
Aurelien Tchouameni started alongside Bellingham and Valverde in midfield, while up top was the electric attacking trio of Rodrygo, Mbappe, and Vinicius Jnr.
As for Celta Vigo, starting in a 4-4-2, Vicente Guaita started in goal, while ahead of him was a defensive quadruple of Kevin Vazques, Unai Nunez, Joseph Aidoo, and Manu Sanches.
In midfield was Carles Perez, Fran Beltran, Luca de la Torre, and Jonathan Bamba, while the two strikers were Iago Aspas and Jorgen Strand Larsen.
The atmosphere at the Bernabeu was electric in the buildup, then…
FWEEE!
The referee gave the signal to start the game.
From the first whistle, it was clear this wasn't going to be the walkover some Madrid fans had predicted. Celta Vigo pressed high, snapping into challenges, forcing Madrid to play at an uncomfortable pace.
In the 9th minute, Bellingham found himself surrounded by three blue shirts in midfield.
His turn was sharp, but Fran Beltran nicked the ball and immediately sent Larsen through on goal. Only Courtois' towering frame and quick reaction saved Real Madrid from conceding early.
The Bernabeu exhaled in relief, the fan noise rising up a crescendo.
On the pitch, Madrid responded in waves.
Mbappe's electric pace on the shoulder of the last defender created two chances in quick succession, one of which forced Guaita into a fingertip save.
Trent Alexander Arnold whipped in crosses with sniper precision, but Celta's center backs held firm.
The deadlock broke in the 27th minute, and it came from a moment of individual brilliance.
Who else but Vinicius?
He didn't score, but he was the creator in scintillating fashion.
In the 27th minute, the Brazilian danced past Kevin Vazquez on the left, cutting inside with a burst of acceleration. His low cross found Bellingham, who didn't take a touch, simply unleashing a first-time curler into the far corner.
1-0 Madrid.
BOOM!
The Bernabeu erupted in euphoria…
"Bellingham!" "Bellingham!" chants echoed through the stands.
Real Madrid found their rhythm, but Celta was unfazed.
Just before halftime, in the 42nd minute, a sloppy back pass from Tchouameni was intercepted by Iago Aspas. The veteran striker slipped it to Larsen, who smashed a low drive past Courtois.
1-1.
The whistle blew, and the Bernabeu murmured uneasily.
The first half ended in a stalemate.
As second half started, Xabi Alonso made no changes but his instructions were clear. The press tightened, Madrid's lines moving higher, as Valverde started exerting his influence on the game from deep.
In the 54th minute, Madrid unlocked Celta Vigo with a masterstroke as Trent switched the play brilliantly to Vinicius, who took on two defenders before sliding the ball into Mbappe's path.
One touch, then a thunderous strike.
BAM!
2-1 Madrid.
The Frenchman barely celebrated, jogging back with a glare. The job wasn't done yet; he wanted more.
Celta Vigo fought back fiercely, Aspas' movement constantly dragging Rudiger and Huijsen into awkward positions. Twice Courtois had to intervene with stunning point-black saves.
In the 76th minute, Xabi Alonso made the first change, taking off Rodrygo for Arda Guler. The Turkish playmaker's creativity was instant.
In the 81st minute, Guler burst to life with silky flair, slipping a disguise pass into Bellingham, who squared for Valverde to tap in and make it 3-1.
From there, the pressure finally faded as Madrid began controlling possession, killing the pace of the game while still threatening on the counter.
Mbappe nearly grabbed a second in stoppage time, but Guaita denied him with a flying save.
When the final whistle blew, it was all Real Madrid.
[FULL-TIME: Real Madrid 3-1 Celta Vigo]
It wasn't Barcelona's 7-0 demolition job at the Spotify Camp Nou, but against fierce resistance, it was a statement of resilience from the Spanish Capital club.
Madrid had been tested, and they had answered.
Jude Bellingham won the man of the match award after heavily influencing it with a crucial goal and assist, and his overall impact in the attacking third, helping the attack break down Celta Vigo's resilient defense.
As the players applauded the fans, Vinicius smirked and muttered to Mbappe. "Let's see what they write tomorrow".
The Clasico storm was brewing.
…
By the next morning, headlines across Spain were split in tone.
Marca: "Madrid Pass the Test – But Barca Still Set the Standard".
AS: "Bellingham Leads, Mbappe Strikes, but Can Madrid Match Barca's Ruthlessness?"
Sport: "7-0 vs 3-1: The Gauntlet Has Been Thrown".
Pundits declared endlessly on late-night talk shows.
"That was not just any win, Barca destroyed Villarreal, while Madrid worked hard for theirs," one commentator said. "It's still too early, but if this is how the season goes, every dropped point will be fatal".
Another fired back. "Don't underestimate a hard-fought win. Champions are built on nights like this".
Social media fanned the flames, with side by side highlight reels of Sam's hattrick goal involvement against Villarreal and Bellingham's midfield masterclass against Celta Vigo.
The tension was there, simmering, boiling.
The fans could feel it. The players could feel it.
And deep down, so could Hansi Flick and Xabi Alonso.
The season was shaping into a knife fight; and neither Barcelona nor Real Madrid were willing to blink first.