My Formula 1 System

Sitting at pole was Jimmy Damgaard, confident and focused, his rigid Red Bull gleaming with a cyan glow under the mild Belgian sun ahead of nineteen other F1 cars.

With steady hands on the wheel, Jimmy's visors were down and clear as day, giving him an unobstructed view of the track's looping nature. The reflection of the circuit on his polished helmet mirrored both the challenge and the thrill that awaited him in this Belgian GP since he was starting at pole.

Right behind was the infamous Luigi, the Black Dread, with an obsidian Mercedes looming like a predator, its sharp lines radiating menace under the sunlight.

Impatience was the word to describe the aura surrounding Antonio Luigi and the W12. Although impatience was a familiar trait of anyone starting second on the grid, Luigi's posture screamed reckless impulsiveness.

A warning even came from Race Control, instructing him to stay within his box and not cross the line before the start procedure.

It was Jimmy Damgaard who noticed Luigi's twitchy adjustments, promptly reporting it through his team radio. The message was passed on to the right ears. And reluctantly, Luigi eased back with a tight grip and tense shoulders.

Behind this restless driver sat Ailbeart Moireach in the Renault R.S.25, its bold orange livery refusing to reflect light.

Calm and measured was Moireach. He decided to trust the rhythm of the race more than the chaos of the grid that was about to unfold.

From the look of things, he seemed to be the calmest of all in the top three. And where car statistics had begun to blur, Moireach feared these wild rivals of his would take advantage of his pacifism.

Especially this driver behind…

P4– Luca Rennick

"...Now, if you've been following this season, you already know this isn't just another driver lining up; this is the man who's turned the standings upside down. Trampos' titan sits in the P4 box…"

"WOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHH!"

Luca was as calm as Moireach, but his presence was a bit sharper. With a firm grip on the wheel, his visors reflected the hunger in his eyes as he tilted his head from side to side to keep his mental state sharp.

This was a one-of-a-kind top four: Damgaard, Luigi, Moireach, and Rennick. Three of them were strapped into the fastest machines on the grid, but generally, these were the fastest drivers currently.

They weren't exactly in ascending order, but they had managed to bunch themselves up at the front, looking less like a lineup and more like a powder keg, each car of their manufacturers ready to show potential against the other.

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At lights out, the fuse was lit, and the Belgian Grand Prix was underway—the eighth round of the season.

"...Australia was hectic, thrilling, dramatic—you name it—and the aftershocks are still shaking up the standings…."

"...Belgium has the perfect setup to either cement those changes or completely flip them again. This circuit can be unpredictable and unforgiving. Strategy and skill are expected from our esteemed teams for success…"

"...the order isn't neat at all. From Jimmy Damgaard to Luca Rennick, the top four hit the first sector still in place, but Ailbeart Moireach appears to be faltering under Rennick's onslaught…!"

"WOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHH!"

"...This race could be decisive: if the balance swings back, it's Luigi's redemption arc; if not, then the new order we saw in Australia might just be here to stay…."

The new order was here to stay, according to Luca, who was the one responsible for putting it up in the first place.

Trampos Order, a vision of his, by which, under his guidance, Trampos Racing would completely dismantle the old hierarchy of these Italian teams. They would rise to supremacy by demolishing every rival's claim to the championship.

Luca had already begun shaping this order the moment he rejoined Trampos, and he materialized it when they seized the top of the standings after Australia.

Now, this was the hardest and most important part—solidifying the mandate made. Luca had to make his and Trampos' supremacy an unshakable structure of the grid, his mission beginning the moment Belgium's lights disappeared.

And in this mission, Ailbeart Moireach became the first testament.

Of course, the R.S.25 wasn't just any other machine easy to pass, nor was Ailbeart Moireach a second-rate rival. Luca had always been a monster at lights out, using Grid Launch. Everyone, down to the youngest fan in the stands, knew this.

Ailbeart Moireach was aware of this, which was why he felt he was in a compromised grid spot—P3. Right behind none other than Antonio Luigi, who would rather lose traction than give up position. And right behind Luca, who was ever hungry for victory.

Before the first lap was over, Luca seized P3 from Moireach with a simple hug to the outside line, then snatched the optimal racing line upon the next corner.

"...Listen to that crowd! Rennick's done it—up into third, dispatching Moireach with a decisive outside sweep! The Ferrari just hugged that outside line, smooth as you like, and cut across for the racing line—textbook brilliance from Rennick..!"

"...And you can't underestimate the significance. Moireach in that Renault is no pushover, but Rennick executed that move cleanly, no hesitation...."

"…Let's not forget this is the same man who nearly took the win back in Australia, finishing P2 in a nail-biter. To be back on the podium places so early here in Belgium really shows he's not here to wait—"

"...and if anyone should be worried, it's Antonio Luigi. Rennick's early charge could very well crumble the Black Dread's bounce-back plans before they even start to take shape..."

"WOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHH!"

Luca smirked when he saw the silhouette of Luigi's Mercedes at a short distance, inviting him to approach as quickly as possible.

But his smirk flattened as he realized Luigi was already at work, pressing hard on Damgaard's side-rear after losing him at the launch.

The Mercedes prowled dangerously close, hunting for a gap to slip through. In a couple of seconds, Luca was sure the leaderboard would flip, Luigi ascending to the top.