[71st Lap]
Alas! After a minute and a half driving around the circuit again and back to the ho straight, Luca's heightened hearing was able to catch the conversation of a pitstop from all three of them!
Aaronson, Max and Derstappen would be pitting in a single file into the 71st Lap!
Aaronson's Radio:
"Box, box. Lap 71. Let's get this done quick."
Max's Radio:
"We're coming in Lap 71. Need a clean stop, no mistakes."
Derstappen's Radio:
"Pit on Lap 71. Make sure tires are ready."
Unbeknownst to them, all three had chosen the sa lap!
Smart of them. With four laps remaining, this was the perfect ti for a late last pit stop. The first lap would be crucial to get heat back into the tires, while the remaining three would give them just enough ti to launch one final charge for position.
[Straightaway ahead!]
Luca was now fully confident that he'd be in P2 within seconds, with Miles taking an open P1. So, he didn't bother pressuring Miles this early; instead, he drove and weaved with the pack onto the ho straight, which they were now on.
BWWWWWWAAAAAHHHHH!! BWWWWAAAAAAAHHHHH!!
"...Ladies and gentlen, we are now entering Lap 71, and the final race of the season is reaching its thrilling climax! Just four laps to go, and every second counts...!"
"...The title fight, the rivalries, the season-long drama—all of it has led to this! The final laps of the season are upon us, and nothing is certain yet...!"
"WOOOOHH!"
"...Settantunesimo giro in questo ga Gran Premio d'Italia...!"
Luca's eyes locked onto Aaronson as he veered into the pit lane first. Just a second later, Max followed, and Luca could only imagine the shock on Aaronson's face when he caught sight of Max in his mirrors.
Even with Zen Zone active, Luca's red eyes couldn't quite make out a person's full expression through their helt—at least, not yet.
Then, half a second later, Derstappen darted into the pits as well.
The crowd erupted.
"WOOOOHH!
"...Hold on—Albert Derstappen follows! All three are pitting at the sa ti!"
"...Two title contenders, three final pit stops, all stacking into the pit lane! This could make or break the race...!"
"WOOOOHH!"
**This is wonderful, Luca!**
"...The tension is through the roof here, Jon! One mistake here could decide the entire championship...!"
The roar of the crowd echoed through the circuit—Lap 71 was delivering fireworks.
It was literally delivering fireworks.
So spectators were caught up in the sheer chaos of the mont, and had started shooting them prematurely into the late 6 p.m. sky, bright streaks of red, white, and green bursting above the circuit.
Security would definitely have sothing to say about that later, but for now, the atmosphere was electric.
As soon as Derstappen cleared the way for Miles, he seized the opening and sliced into Turn 1.
At that exact mont, his na shot up the leaderboard, tackling Aaronson's na out of P1 and centing his smug face there.
"...MILES BELLINGHAM IN P1!"
"WOOOOHH!"
"...Unbelievable! Miles Bellingham takes the lead for Squadra Corse Jnr as his rivals roll into the pitlane!"
[2nd Position]
"...The crowd is on its feet—Squadra Corse Jnr is leading in the final laps of the season with Trampos' Rennick behind at P2!"
"...Can Bellingham hold on? Can he make history and win his first formula 2 title in his first year?!"
"...Miles Bellingham in P1, Luca Rennick in P2 in questo gran finale...!"
"WOOOOHH!"
[Analyzing Dallara (F2 04) and host's distance from 1st Position]
[You are 0.5 seconds away, host.]
Without hesitation, Luca's instincts of Overtaking Skill kicked in rapidly as he chased Miles out of Turn 1 and into Turn 2. His front wing got so close to Miles' rear at the bottleneck of Turn 2 that they almost made contact.
The grandstands trembled under the weight of the roaring crowd because this was it. This was the peak duel of the season, the one that would determine who would lead the pack as the race was coming to an end.
"...Bellingham leads, but Rennick is right there! Inches away! Can he make the move?!"
"....This is the battle we've waited all season for! The championship hangs in the balance!"
Luca's heart rate remained steady, unnervingly calm, while Miles' pounded like a war drum. Luca could hear it.
Even the sharp, heavy breaths fogging up Miles' visor—Luca could hear those too.
**He's right on you, Miles! Stay composed**
Miles' radio chatter ca through loud and clear to Luca's heightened hearing.
"I know. I see him." Miles' voice was tight and controlled, but Luca could tell that he felt the pressure.
Luca shifted to the inside line as they exited Turn 2 toward Turn 3. The announcent that he anticipated was broadcasted loudly.
"...Max Addams in P3!"
"WOOOOHH!"
"...Albert Derstappen in P4!"
"...Sean Aaronson in P5!"
"WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"
"...Max Addams exits the pits first and takes P3!"
"....Aaronson had a slow stop, and it's cost him big ti! Derstappen sneaks past—he's into P4!"
"...Unbelievable! Just two laps ago, Sean Aaronson was leading this race, and now he's all the way down in P5!"
"...Unless sothing drastic happens, this could be where he finishes!"
[Analyzing 3rd Position's distance from host and Dallara (F2 04)...]
[3rd Position is 4.5 sec away, host.]
Luca could now say with certainty that Max and the others were no longer his problem. Their cold tires, sluggish montum, and ongoing battles among themselves would keep them occupied.
His entire focus, his every ounce of willpower, was now locked onto Miles. P1 was right there. The F2 Championship was within reach. And beyond that? The next step toward becoming the greatest driver motorsport had ever seen.
But Miles—Miles had the audacity to deny him the slipstream.
Luca's grip on the wheel tightened, his knuckles whitening as they shot out of the steep incline of Turn 3 and into the sweeping curve of Turn 4.
The straight was ahead. And straights? Straights changed everything.
**You can take it Luca. Now or never** Mr. Ruben said softly into the radio, although his voice was filled with tension and urgency.
"He's very tough.
"...out of Turn 4 and onto the straight they go! This is where races are won and lost!"
"System, can you give a real-ti display of when I lock in the slipstream...?"
[Certainly, host]
[Slipstream Status: ENGAGING]
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