"..sessantacinquesimo giro qui a Monza!"
"..dieci giri rimasti alla fine di questo Italian Mega Prix!"
Lap 65 in the last race of the season at Monza meant there were ten laps left to conclude the F2 championship season—ten laps left for a champion to be celebrated and for a team to be crowned.
In motorsport, or in any sport in general, the final stretch of a crucial event often held what most people call pre-podium celebrations.
This was the moment when teams, mechanics, engineers, and even rival garages started hovering near pit walls, clapping, cheering, and waving their drivers on.
It was a moment where emotions ran high, where hope, desperation, and strategy all meshed into one final push.
Most importantly, the pre-podium celebrations were mainly orchestrated by the spectators themselves. The anticipation from every seat and row reached a fever-pitch as they began the prelude to Monza glory.
"...The atmosphere is electric here at the Autodromo di Lombardia as we edge closer to the final laps of the Italian Mega Prix!"
"...The spectators are already on their feet, waving flags, clapping, and chanting their drivers' names! Flares are lighting up the grandstands, and you can feel the anticipation building—everyone knows the race isn't over yet, but the celebrations are already beginning!"
Within five minutes of the celebrations, the circuit was already in chaos, a real mess, indeed.
First of all, the now twilight sky was now filled with colorful smoke lights—mostly blue, red, and golden—as fans from the different teams still in championship contention wanted their colors to dominate the sky the most. In fact, the helicopters had difficulties getting a clear view of the drivers from afar due to this.
That was not the only aerial predicament because abandoned balloons followed suit. Hundreds of balloons, deliberately inflated and let go to fly into the sky, now hovered above Serpeggiare, floating so far out that Mallow and the rest beyond the circuit could see them.
BWWWWWWAAAAAHHHHH!! BWWWWAAAAAAAHHHHH!!
The sound of the air horns was so loud that Luca could even hear it. He knew prelude celebrations were often wild, but this one was literally primal—especially for Formula 2.
Luca could hear every whistle from every lip and every chant from every group. Some supported him, some supported his rivals, while most were voiced to condemn him.
There were about five hundred checkered flags waving now, all fake in authenticity... but they might as well have been real with how they filled the grandstands, the pit wall, and even the overpasses above the circuit.
Luca saw them in bursts. They were all blurs of black and white rippling across the trackside, some massive and others no bigger than a handkerchief.
They lined the barriers, fluttered from the grandstand rafters, and were even hoisted on poles by fans who had climbed onto fences just to wave them higher.
From his cockpit, they almost looked like glitches in reality, scattered through the bends and straights of the massive circuit, forming a sea of illusions he couldn't escape.
They were all fake. But they were everywhere, calling for the race to end.
BWWWWWWAAAAAHHHHH!! BWWWWAAAAAAAHHHHH!!
Everything seemed so vivid for Luca. He was certain now that his rivals couldn't hear these air horns the way he did. It sounded as if they were being blown right beside him.
The smoke lights and flares looked like distorted reality, patched through the dark sky, and the balloons floated almost unnaturally, their colors searing into his vision with an intensity that felt unreal.
"How far am I from P4?" Luca asked his system, oblivious to how resonant his voice had become.
[Analyzing Dallara (F2 04) and host's distance from 5th Position]
[You are 2 seconds away, host.]
[DATA DISPLAYED IN REAL-TIME:
-Operational Status: 80% (Good)
-Breathing: Calm & Steady
-Distance covered: 402500m
While Luca was taking note of the system information, impressed by how he'd endured almost two hours of racing, his eyes caught something unfamiliar in the system's interface.
Just beneath the Sync Bar at 87.5%, positioned at the bottom-right corner of the HUD, a new icon pulsed faintly. It was a minimalist, circular emblem with a single horizontal line cutting through its center.
Luca narrowed his eyes.
That wasn't there before.
"System, what's Zen Zone?"
[Zen Zone is an uncommon system feature provided to the host in moments of high importance. Its availability is determined solely by the system and cannot be manually activated by the host.]
[Zen Zone induces a state of heightened clarity and fluidity, minimizing external distractions while optimizing the host's mental and emotional state for absolute victory, and absolute victory alone.]
"So, it's active right now?"
"I don't feel anything."
[Zen Zone cannot be consciously perceived. It is intangible and only noticeable when the host fully utilizes its effects.]
[Note: Zen Zone does not enhance Attributes or Skills. However, it sharpens the host's mental and emotional state, heightening awareness and focus, indirectly refining the senses for victory at all cost.]
If Luca could see himself now, he might not even recognize his own reflection. His brown eyes had turned red, streaking out of his helmet, flashing through the cockpit and into the charged air of the circuit as he navigated the turn.
Even his fingertips wrapped around the wheel, tingled with a faint red spark, and within him, his heart burned with an unrelenting fire.
With this fire, he pushed, his jaw clenched and his focus locked in.
The team radio remained dead because there was nothing to discuss but to watch Luca navigate in P5 until the end of the race.
Miles was strong. Miles was tough. Luca could already see him in F1 a few years from now, maybe even his rival in the coming generation. He defended like his life depended on it, but with every lap, Luca closed the gap, millisecond after millisecond.
[Analyzing Dallara (F2 04) and host's distance from 5th Position]
[You are 0.5 seconds away, host.]
"...IT IS PACKED! IT IS PACKED AT LATE LAP 69! LUCA RENNICK JOINS THE CONGESTION BEHIND BELLINGHAM"
BWWWWWWAAAAAHHHHH!! BWWWWAAAAAAAHHHHH!!
The flares and smoke lights were condensing—if that was even the right word—lowering to asphalt level and slightly obstructing visibility.
Luca, however, could still see. His eyesight was so sharp that from his own cockpit, he could make out what was being displayed on Miles' dashboard!
He wasn't sure if he was going crazy, but he was certain he could even hear what Miles was discussing with his engineers over the radio.
As soon as Miles tilted into Turn 19, Luca followed suit without hesitation. Both cars sliced into the chicane, quickly dropping speed for precision.
As explained, Zen Zone affected Luca's mental and physical state—his brain and the five senses—not his attributes and skills. That meant he was still bound by the track structure, forced to reduce his speed whenever making a turn.
With time, the two snaked out of the chicane and joined Max and Aaronson on the home straight.
"....And here they come, blasting down the home straight! The leaders are locked in, no time to breathe—because in just moments, we'll be starting the 70th lap of this Italian Mega Prix!"
The air horns blared again, almost like a reminder to Luca that he should hit his DRS, and nailing its activation now was crucial.
Down the straight, tucked behind his main rivals, Luca worked to slot himself right behind Miles and ride his slipstream. But Miles' car was jittery, making it harder than expected.
The reason was quite funny. It was a chaotic train of drivers all trying to outdo one another.
Aaronson was hunting for Max's slipstream, Derstappen latched onto Aaronson, and Miles was going after Derstappen's. Greedy and restless, each driver weaved in a desperate attempt to shake off the one behind, ultimately ruining the effect for all of them.
He managed to stay locked onto Max, and as they burst out of the straight's alleyway, he hit DRS at just the right moment, launching himself forward—straight into P1!
"...Appena prima della Curva 1, Aaronson supera Addams!"
"...Sean Aaronson in P1, Max Addams in P2!"
"...Siamo arrivati al settantesimo giro di questo Gran Premio Italiano!"
".... SEVENTIETH LAP IN THIS FINALE!"
"....Cinque giri alla gloria a Monza!"
"....FIVE LAPS TO GLORY IN MONZA!"
Luca studied his rivals' cars as he joined them into the turns. He focused on Derstappen, Max, and Aaronson, as they were the ones he planned to analyze.
Unfortunately, Max and Aaronson were too far ahead to be properly assessed, but Derstappen was within range. That was great because Luca could gauge Max and Aaronson's performance based on Derstappen's assessment.
[Performance Metrics:
Top Speed: 300 km/h (261 km/h) (295—261km/h in the last five seconds) (20km/h each millisecond)
Acceleration: 3.5 sec (0—100km/h) (28.57 km/h per second)
Aerodynamic Efficiency: 1.5 ]
[Operational Status: 60%]
Sixty percent Operational Status was practically the most skeptical value a car could have at this stage of the race.
There were five laps left until the race ended, and five standard laps were more than enough to force an F3 chassis into the pits.
So, this 60% Operational Status was a value stuck in between enduring the full race distance or breaking down before the checkered flag.
If Derstappen's car held together, it meant Max and Aaronson's might as well. But if Derstappen's machine started to falter, then the probability of the others suffering the same fate skyrocketed.
Luca trusted 4-star Team Principals like Mr. Lugo and Mancini to not make such a risky gamble, instead insisting on a final pit stop. That was his prediction. Because if they didn't, he might just end up finishing the Italian Mega Prix in P5.
A/N: Thanks for 100 Golden Tickets and 1000 Privilege Unlocks.