My Formula 1 System-Chapter 659: Sixteenth Round

The Azerbaijan Grand Prix qualifiers were finally about to begin, and as is tradition, a fast-paced montage of the esteemed garages prepping for the day was broadcast live to millions. From Outback Performance to Haddock Racing. From Velox Hispania to Squadra Corse. Haddock Racing were captured spending minutes checking tire pressures, while Velocita had an open-view management, calibrating steering racks.

When the display finally cut to the Trampos garage directly below a plinth of the Azadliq Square, the camera lingered specifically on Victor staring intensely at a monitor, and then panned slowly over the sleek body of the JYX-81.

There was a slight, noticeable ripple from the fans in attendance.

On all the giant screens around the circuit and on everyone’s TV at home, a pre-race dossier interface popped up. It was that stylized reveal of an athlete’s profile with a cool line-up-style shot, where the driver stepped forward into the light.

Victor Surmann stepped forward, looking serious in red with his helmet tucked under his arm. Race Number: 67. However, there were little to no fears listed next to his name. The space where a veteran’s trophies and podiums would be was almost empty, barely occupied by his rookie stats.

The JYX-81 was later exhibited in the same way. It’s pretty much a custom for the fans to get a breakdown of any new machine joining the grid so they know what they’re looking at.

Polite claps and scattered cheers came from the few Trampos supporters present, but nothing really flamboyant or loud—most people just shrugged. A new chassis on the grid was a neat tech update, but it wasn’t exactly fan-impressive to the casual viewer. That is, unless it was a new chassis for a legendary top driver. To them, it was just a fresh coat of paint on a mid-tier car.

But the 81 was going to make its name soon enough.

Most of those watching from the sidelines were oblivious to the internal specs—the intricate plumbing of the cooling systems, or the radical geometry of the suspension, or even the insane power-to-weight ratio. They were just here for the spectacle, the noise, and the base thrill of the competition. And they were in for a massive shock. They would soon see its true performance once the lights went green.

After all, this was a machine originally conceived for Luca.

1 PM.

The asphalt shimmered with heat, the sun high and bright. The wind had picked up a bit—cool and perfect—but it could pose a problem as such wind could push the cars around in the high-speed sections of the track.

The scent of racing fuel stung hard as the pit lane finally opened, the lights turning green. Q1 had officially begun.

Victor was just getting settled into his Ferrari. The crew was bustling around him, making sure everything was tight and secure. Just before his HANS device and neck harness were clipped in, he turned his head around as much as he could.

Flanked by his own set of crew following him, Luca was walking towards the mouth of the garage where the Z24 sat right behind the JYX-81. His eyes quickly met his teammate’s. Luca gave him a solid nod that meant nothing short of encouragement, and Victor turned back around with a new wave of determination. He felt his neck finally get harnessed into place, and then his helmet was brought down over his socked head, clicking into the locks. The world got a lot quieter and a lot more focused inside that carbon-fiber shell.

Luca stood there for a moment, watching the process while his own suit was being adjusted and attended to. As he stared at the rear of the 81, his system seemed to act independently by instinct.

[Car Specifications:

Brand: Ferrari

Model: JYX-81

Engine Type: F1-08 V6 Turbo Hybrid

Weight: 768 kg ]

[Performance Metrics:

Top Speed: 375 km/h

Acceleration: 2.2 sec

Max Power: 940 HP

Aerodynamic Efficiency: 2.8 ]

[Operational Status:

Fuel Level: 80%

Tire Condition: New

Telemetry Status: Active

DRS Availability: Not Engaged ] 𝕗𝐫𝚎𝗲𝘄𝐞𝕓𝐧𝕠𝘃𝕖𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝚖

~~~~~~~~

Back in Berlin, in Victor’s family house, it was quite early in the morning because of the time zones. The morning sun still filtered through thin curtains, casting dusty shadows across the hardwood floors. The regular sounds of a busy house mixed with nature occupied everywhere as everyone was hurrying to finish their chores before the workday officially started. But in the middle of all that, the TV in the living room was buzzing with the live feed from the sports channel, showing the bright, colorful chaos of the Baku pit lane.

Since the adults were all busy with their morning rush, the youngest child—Victor’s little stepbrother—was the only one actually sitting on the rug in front of the TV. He was staring at the screen with wide, excited eyes. Suddenly, he jumped up, his little slides squeaking on the floor.

"Daddy! Daddy!" he started calling out at the top of his lungs. "Victor’s out now! Victor’s on the TV!"

Now, this little boy had a bit of a reputation for giving false alerts. To a kid his age, the complexities of F1 can be really confusing. All the cars move so fast, and some of them look exactly alike, especially with the helmets covering the drivers’ faces. He had pointed at random red or orange cars before, thinking they were his brother, so the rest of the family didn’t exactly drop everything immediately.

But this time, the boy was bouncing around like a pogo stick, absolutely sure of himself. He had seen the number 67 and the specific way the Trampos car sat on the track. He knew his older stepbrother had just joined the session in the second minute of Q1.

The father of the house finally rushed into the living room, looking a bit skeptical and wiping his damp hands on a kitchen towel. Squinting at the screen, he realized it was truly a Trampos Ferrari. And since everyone who follows racing knows that an elite driver like Luca almost never heads out that early in Q1, it had to be his son, Victor.

A huge, proud smile broke across his face.

Happily, he tossed the towel aside and sat down on the edge of the sofa, grabbing the remote to crank up the volume while shouting out to the rest of the family to join.