My Formula 1 System-Chapter 621 621: Cold Summer

[Generating track layout...]
[... successfully generated]
[
┌T3--T2------T1-------=----T16--T15┐
T4 T13---T14
| T10—T11 |
T5 | └T12
└—T6—T7—T8--T9
]
It was a warm-up for the qualifiers. Luca looked at the track layout, analyzed each sector, and then compared it to the one on his dashboard. Afterwards, he looked up and around the stretched asphalt, revved his engine before resuming his warm-up around Kyalami.
There was a strange, nice fog veiling the circuit at the edges, mostly at the bottom of the stands. The time was 12 pm, the sun barely showing, promising a memorable racing event.
Luca knew he had to get used to seeing DiMarco in a race suit, helmet on, and strapped into a Red Bull, but it would take time. Being responsible for a rival's misfortune could bring satisfaction at first, but conscience rarely lets it linger peacefully.
He wondered just how many curses DiMarco's children had flung in his direction, but as he recalled the Bahrain crash vividly, he lost empathy again for their father.
VROOOOOMMM–VROOOOOOM!
DiMarco revved his machine.
"Utter BS," he muttered indignantly.
Ahead, another Red Bull flashed past T16 by the flank, Jimmy casually bobbing his head to the radio chatter. DiMarco thought his car felt lame compared to the enhanced RBioL. It couldn't even roar with formidability.
"Just utter fucking bullshit," he hissed.
It was a cold midday, so many drivers participated in the warm-up than usual for just qualifiers. But before Q1 could even begin, the event was interrupted.
A small group of protesters infiltrated the track. Seven of them sat shoulder to shoulder across the asphalt, holding placards high above their heads.
Unbelievable. This could have been very dangerous if it were a high-speed moment of racing, but the drivers were barely above 25km/h, leaving them more irritated than endangered.
Elias Nystrom is a man of character indeed. Positioned directly in front of the protesters, he deliberately revved his Audi so loudly that all words and chants from the youths were completely drowned out.
Within a minute, the protesters were flushed out of the scene by the marshals. They were environmentalists, anti-fossil fuel, nothing much to be explained here, as their objectives barely mattered in the grand scheme.
Formula 1 had faced resistance over its fuel use for decades. Nothing will change.
Q1 began in due course. Unconventional start. Unorthodox end. Luis Dreyer claimed the fastest lap, followed closely by Di Renzo and Max Addams.
Apparently, the faster drivers who topped the standings had held back in this first qualifying session for strategic reasons. Still, the timing gaps were enough to demonstrate raw speed and control, giving the top three the confidence that they could push hard in Q2 and Q3.
But once it arrived, the competition spread so evenly that the struggle became suffocating. At some point, teams were already exchanging serious radio chatter as if it were race day, a clear sign of just how difficult qualifying had become.
On the screens, the world watched Davide DiMarco closely. Fresh back from injury, it was inevitable that he would be the center of attention. Rivals were fishing for signs of weakness, for leaking blood. His own team, meanwhile, was searching for cracks in the bandage; proof that he was truly ready to compete again.
DiMarco drove just fine. The pressure did not affect him.
As for Victor, he struggled to cope as the weight pressed down on his shoulders. Every sector felt judged, every lap evaluated, because somewhere above, his moves were being evaluated, and decisions about his future were being shaped in silence.
At the end of the day, he had a decent qualifying result—P13, meaning he was eliminated in Q2.
Chasing P10 on such a grid would have been vanity for Victor with the machine he piloted. Thus, he ought to be satisfied.
Across the paddock, reactions were mixed. Some teams celebrated exceeding expectations, while others quietly absorbed disappointment after promising sessions unraveled. Margins were tight, and the balance between driver skill and machinery had never felt more exposed.
The Formula 1 community was heading into the South African Grand Prix with high-stakes uncertainty.
P1– Ailbeart Moireach
P2– Antonio Luigi
P3– Buoso Di Renzo
P4– Luca Rennick
P5– Marko Ignatova
P6– Jimmy Damgaard
P7– Max Addams
P8– Denko Rutherford
P9– Davide DiMarco
P10– Luis Dreyer
**Okay, mate, that's P9. P9 at the flag. Very solid job today**
"Yeahhh, just shut it, man," DiMarco replied. "That's not where I belong."
**Haha**
**But you kept it clean. We'll build from here**
"Build what? Better be a new chassis, coz this thing's holding me back."
**Copy that. We'll talk after parc fermé**
DiMarco removed his helmet and shook out his golden hair, like a prince stepping off a battlefield.
His image cracked once he exhaled and looked up at the wide display board. P9. Him. Jimmy, P6.
'This scumbucket didn't even crack the top five,' he scoffed in his mind. The results deepened his certainty that Jimmy didn't deserve the main seat.
But arguments could wait. What mattered was Sunday now. A race start from P9, his first since the long recovery, and a grid that would show him no mercy the same way he showed them when he was conquering.
~~~~~~~~~~
"...Welcome to the South African Grand Prix! The fourteenth round of the season, and only the second time Formula 1 has set foot on African soil after last year's historic debut. The atmosphere here is cooler than China, but the competition simmering beneath it is anything but mild…!"
"...There's a renewed edge in the paddock today, largely because one name is back on the timing screens. Davide DiMarco returns to Formula 1 action after months of recovery, drafted in to give Bueseno Velocità a much-needed push in the championship fight..."
"...Whether he's in the car he wants or not is irrelevant now. He's here, and his presence alone shifts the balance, adding pressure not just to rivals, but within his own garage…"
"WOOOOOHHHHHH!"
"...Velocità need every advantage they can get. They arrive here with the standings tight behind them—Haddock Racing just one point adrift. And Haddock look dangerous this weekend. Ailbeart Moireach on pole, calm and clinical. Rutherford, starting P8. On paper, it's a setup that could swing momentum hard. Really hard…!"
"WOOOOOOOOHHHHHH!"
"...this could be one of those races where we look back on and say, "that's where it shifted!" Engines are warming, strategies tightening, and South Africa waits to see who bends and who breaks…!"