The Trampos crew erupted from their seats as the leaderboard remained unchanged after the home straight leading into the 38th lap. Luca had managed to hold his ground down the short straight, despite Max's DRS giving him a significant advantage. Max had closed the gap and drawn alongside Luca, but his DRS advantage faded just as they reached side-by-side positioning. He couldn't complete the overtake to claim P2.
Cheers broke out from the Trampos pit, celebrating what many had deemed an inevitable overtake. Yet, against all odds, Luca had defended his position. Now, with both drivers nose-to-nose, the battle for P2 was far from over, setting the stage for another intense duel.
The paddock was alive with tension, engineers hurrying to their stations to give Luca every bit of guidance they could as the Grand Prix neared its final fifteen minutes. Computers buzzed with activity as real-time data poured in, each piece crucial to securing his position.
Ansel was also receiving more attention than usual. A larger group of engineers surrounded him, offering strategies and updates to help him hold off Sean Aaronson while keeping an eye on Albert Derstappen, who had recovered impressively after his earlier mishap. The urgency in the paddock reflected the fierce competition unfolding on the track.
"…extremely dangerous wheel-to-wheel racing between the reigning champion and a strong contender! They're pushing each other to the absolute limit, and at these speeds, so close together, one small mistake could end in disaster! With the race nearing its end, this kind of risky battle could cost them everything—neither can afford a DNF at this stage."
"...And look at this—they're not just fighting each other; they're closing in rapidly on Miles Bellingham in P1! This is turning into a three-way showdown for the win, and if they keep up this relentless pace, it might boil over before the checkered flag!"
"…Saudi Arabian Grand Prix at Lap 39!"
[Side-by-Side King +1]
[SYNC BAR: [][][][] 75%]
Luca finally got the edge he needed as he closed in on Miles earlier than Max, who was once again surprised by Luca's dominance in their wheel-to-wheel brawl.
[Analyzing Dallara (F2 04) and host's distance from 2nd Position]
[You are 1 second away, host.]
[Slipstream Mastery failed due to host changing focus to Night Mastery]
"C'mon. I wanted to see through this tunnel," Luca complained, snapping out of Night Mastery as well after the system notification. He had hoped to capitalize on Miles' slipstream for a speed boost while also navigating the first tunnel. However, his stats in those skills weren't high enough to perform simultaneous feats. The system explained this to him, and he could only sigh.
[3rd Position closing in]
That was one thing with Max Addams—he was never satisfied with anything less than P1. Sure, every driver aimed for the top spot, but Max raced as though his very existence depended on it. Podium finishes meant nothing if he wasn't the one standing at the center, and Luca could see it in his every move.
Luca, on the other hand, was still learning. He was beginning to understand that unrelenting mindset, even picking up a few tricks from Max along the way.
As soon as Miles darted out of the tunnel's exit into the bright floodlights and toward the under-bridge straight, Luca exited with less momentum than required, temporarily shocking Trampos' engineers as they monitored the telemetry. But when they noticed the DRS signal flash on their screens and saw Luca's rear wing opening within a second, they all sighed inwardly with relief.
[You are 2 seconds away]
"…down the bridge—Rennick gets more speed! Bellingham could defend, but it seems unlikely now!"
**You've never won a Grand Prix, Miles! How can you let Rennick get a fourth?! He'll run away with the championship if he takes P1! Fight harder—don't let him through!** Mr. Valerio Mancini, Squadra Corse Jnr Team Principal, barked into the radio after leaving the viewing post back on Lap 35 when he saw Luca and Max's battle closing in on his young star, who was still holding P1.
Miles bit his lip, his jaw tightening as frustration and determination built within him. "As if I don't know that, Mancini," he muttered under his breath, gripping the steering wheel tighter, his knuckles white beneath his gloves.
His eyes flicked to the rearview mirror. Luca's red chassis loomed closer, DRS giving him unstoppable pace down the straight.
"A win here cements me as a contender. A win here tells the world I'm not just another driver—I'm the future champion," Miles whispered to himself, adjusting his line and taking a defensive position. He could try to hold Luca off the same way Luca had done with Max Addams, hoping to keep him at bay until his DRS window closed.
Luca clenched his teeth as the track tightened, his car so close to Miles that he instinctively tilted his wheel to switch lanes for an overtake. But as they approached the next set of turns, the track grew narrower, its fluorescent arrows glowing against the night.
[Track Span Analysis: 8.5 meters wide (combined lane width)]
[Outside Lane Width: 3.0 meters (including runoff area)][Optimal Racing Line: 2.5 meters]
[Car Width: 1.9 meters] [Margin for Error: 0.55 meters on the left; 1.0 meter on the right (outside lane available)]
Squadra Corse Jnr's crew erupted in cheers, celebrating Miles' ability to maintain P1 even under Luca's DRS assault.
[3rd Position Closing in Rapidly]
"...Luca Rennick failed to take P1 when he had the chance, and Max Addams says it's not over! Oh! Look at Street 6! All three cars are bunching up!"
**Take it, take it, Max!** Max's engineers urged him to push harder out of the chicanes, even as the three cars dangerously bunched together.
**Maintain traction and downforce, you might make contact!** Luca's team warned as he found himself sandwiched between his fiercest rivals.
**DEFEND!** Miles' radio blasted.
Miles was now acutely aware of Max's relentless push on Luca's left. He shifted to the outside lane, preparing for a wider arc into the corner. He'd learned this from Antonio Luigi, who had occasionally trained with Squadra Corse Jnr. His experience with the F1 veteran had taught him that this was the optimal approach—not just for maintaining speed but for cutting off Max's attack. His grip on the steering wheel tightened, the vibration of the engine pulsing through his arms as his tires tilted in response to the wheel.
**Use the outside to set up your drift! Just stay ahead!** came Squadra Corse Jnr 's radio, igniting his drive.
Max, however, was not the kind to wait for an opening. He went for the inside line, a high-risk move that required precision bordering on perfection. His Dallara F2 screamed into the corner, his tires nearly scraping the curbs as he forced his way through.
"...and Max Addams goes for the inside, ahead at P2 now, he wants P1—he might get it!"
Miles, glancing briefly in his side mirror, saw Max's car creeping dangerously from the inside while he drifted in from the outside, both cars crisscrossing right in front of Luca. "Not today," Miles muttered through clenched teeth, cutting his drift perfectly to block Max's momentum. And... it seemed Miles had outmaneuvered him, reclaiming the apex with perfect execution.
"...Miles Bellingham still at P1!"
But Max wasn't done. His determination spiked into recklessness. He kept pushing, attempting to squeeze through, almost as if he believed his car could phase through Miles' Dallara.
Recklessness always came with consequences.
The sickening crunch of carbon fiber echoed through the streets of Riyadh.
"...CONTACT BETWEEN ADDAMS AND BELLINGHAM!
**Fuck! For fuck's sake!** Mr. Lugo and his engineers shouted as Max rammed into Miles.
"...That's a catastrophic hit for Max Addams! His front wing is shattered!"
[You have reduced speed]
Luca's eyes widened as the scene unfolded. Both cars clipped their front wings, sending shards of carbon fiber scattering across the track.
"...Miles has sustained damage too, but it looks like he's holding on! They're BOTH holding on!"
Miles wrestled with his car, the steering suddenly heavier as the damaged wing disrupted his downforce. "I'm fine! I can hold it!" he barked into the radio, determination drowning out the fear gripping his chest.
**No, you are not fine, goddamnit! You need a fucking pit now! Shit! Addams should be fucking penalized!** Mr. Mancini growled.
As soon as the collision occurred, the track stewards sprang into action, launching an immediate review. Their investigation would determine whether the incident was unavoidable or the result of reckless driving. If deemed an unintentional racing incident, the race would continue without interruption, as both cars were still in motion. However, if one driver was found guilty of overly aggressive tactics, a penalty would be issued.
Luca's instincts told him the likely penalty would range between 10 to 15 seconds—possibly even 20. At this stage of the race, with so little time left, such a harsh penalty could spell disaster for the driver at fault, likely costing them their position or even their shot at a podium finish.