In recent years, China’s sumrs have been recording extre temperatures that once seed impossible for the country.
Last year was record-breaking; the capital, Beijing, broke its record for consecutive days over 35°C, hitting 27 days. Shanghai ca close, averaging 34°C, but over a shorter period. It was a good call from the FIA to schedule the previous Chinese GP in early spring, when the temperature was mild.
However, it seed they hadn’t applied the sa reasoning this ti around. A sumr Chinese GP, with heatwaves pushing the atmosphere close to 40°C, was torture.
Driven by dense urbanization and other anthropogenic factors, cities like Shanghai had especially seen their thermoters climb, their horizons shimring. It had beco the norm, but that didn’t make the upshots any less unbearable.
The ongoing Grand Prix was unfolding under 37°C. And since it was a racing circuit, the situation was even more punishing.
35,000 spectators packed the grandstands. This crowding radiated just as much warmth as the machines on the track did, taking the ground temperature higher with every passing lap.
Halfway through the 56-lap race, the tarmac shimred, the air above it wavering, and the heat distorted the shape of the cars, creating a haze that made the entire venue feel just like the furnace that had cooked thousands in Qatar.
For the drivers with weak thermal-managent systems in their tech, they were the first to wilt.
Luca didn’t have the strongest package either, but his fully maxed-out engine feature kept him steady while he held the lead. Every surge of humidity and cockpit heat was converted into usable power that his team complained he was wasting.
But the Sigma could only convert so much. Eventually, he had more heat accumulated than his systems could ta, overloading the car and roasting him all the sa.
Fortunately, that first pit stop ca just in ti when teams began to diagnose problems for their drivers.
Trampos were prepared for Luca and Victor. To recalibrate their cars for better performance under extre temperatures, their stops had to co with so adjustnts.
**Luca, this stop may take a few extra seconds. We’ll apply hi-power air for cooling. Hold strong, mate**
F1 teams take certain legal asures to help cool their machines, and this was one of them.
Using cooling blowers during the stop flushes out hot air from several parts of the car, significantly reducing both internal and external temperatures. It also helps clear debris and track clutter that blocks airflow.
When Luca ca to a halt in the box, he was pleased to see his system interface flicker with positive readings for a change.
[Heat Load: Reduced]
[Cooling Efficiency: 27%]
[Engine Operating State: SAFE]
Since performance was restored, he could race competently again. Luca thanked his crew with a big nod before leaving his box.
[Retrieving pitstop info...]
[Service Ti: 3.11 seconds]
[Front Tires: Soft → Hard]
[Rear Tires: Soft→ Hard]
The team had also changed his compounds because the Hards generated less heat than the Softs. They could handle the race in the long run with Hards, though at the risk of losing acceleration and speed.
Luca was in full support of the tire move.
Ahead of him on the pit lane, three outfits up, was a black rcedes serviced by Squadra Corse’s garage. A quick glance at the dashboard confird the driver was Marko, not Luigi.
The W09 had far more advanced cooling systems than the Z24 could ever dream of. In that case, Marko was only stopping for a tire change, not for intense fan cooling.
This gave him a faster stop of 2.12 seconds. Blood pumping, he slamd the accelerator, swerved out of his pit box, and cut sharply into Luca’s front on the pit lane.
The caras were still on the race. Nobody outside the teams noticed the incident. The crews of Luca and Marko were left shouting and gesturing wildly as the impending collision lood.
"...Ohhh! That... could have been a race-ender, folks...!"
[Spatial Awareness 1]
[SYNC BAR: [][][][] 62.5%]
Luca escaped a DNF, but he couldn’t avoid all contact.
~CLack-thunk!!
Carbon harshly t carbon on the pitlane as the W09 swung in desperately, Marko’s ignorance about Luca in debate.
With at peak, Luca twisted his wheel, reading the quick trajectory of his rival so fast that he must have recorded the swiftest reaction ti ever.
But the contact was unavoidable. The tip of his front wing was roughly grazed by Marko’s left rear, sending sparks flying and disfiguring the face of the Z24.
"Give a freaking break," Luca murmured. He didn’t know how to vent his frustration! The pit lane unfolded into chaos. Two tangled single-seaters so close in sight fascinated the crew mbers of all teams!
"...and there it is! Marko Ignatova—Luca Rennick! There’s damage there even as Marko keeps it moving!"
"...was he aware Luca was coming? Hard to say, but the stewards are watching closely. It might be enough for a penalty, but both cars are still moving, Rennick behind as they roll down the pit lane with grudge in their hearts...!"
"WOOOOOOHHHH!"
P5— Marko Ignatova ←
P7— Luca Rennick ←
"...precarious seconds lost as the wounded drivers rejoin the race. We may see ANOTHER stop just to fix this. What a gamble and scramble for Trampos and Squadra!"
[Analyzing 8th Position’s distance from host and Ferrari (Scuderia Z24)...]
[8th Position is 1 sec away, host.]
Rejoining the race, Luca had no ti to breathe as he fought for car stability. Marko mirrored the struggle ahead, trying to maintain his line under tense duress, with Derstappen in between them.
Directly behind Luca was a suicidal driver who had ever wished for such a mont.
No, it wasn’t Nystrom, but Max Addams, a ticking hazard, hungry for recognition. A vulnerable Luca Rennick had been served to him on a silver plate. He wouldn’t be missing this chance.
Striking at the perfect mont, Max decided to be clinical and clean, hugging the lines through sequences of corners while pressuring Luca. Luca, had little room to defend—not like he bothered to. The contact’s trauma limited his precision by a large margin.
"....MAX ADDAMS! RED BULL! TURN 8! Into the smallest gap, he makes it through, leaving Rennick no choice but to surrender! In an instant, Trampos’s man drops to P8...!"
"WOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHH!"
**You’re doing just right, mate. P8 isn’t a disaster. Let’s keep pushing**
**We’re monitoring front wing teletry; it’s holding but appreciably compromised. Let’s assess the next lap’s performance before advising on any adjustnts. Keep it together**
[8th Position]
[Lap 31]
Luca ignored the system’s reminders, focusing instead on the race. His P8 was fragile, and Denko Rutherford in P9 lurked, ready to exploit any mistake—or any hint of impairnt from the clipped front wing.
skill hadn’t escaped Luca’s mind. Ever since the damage, he had been teetering on the edge of applying the skill to fix his front wing quickly.
At (13), Luca was confident the skill was strong enough. It could compensate for minor aerodynamic damage and maintain pace.
However, his hesitation stemd from the skill’s visibility.
was an instantaneous and external skill. Fixing an obvious damage just like that would undoubtedly raise suspicion, and the little rumours about Luca racing with sorcery would take deeper roots.
But it seed there was no ti enough for him to decide.
In Post F4 of Sector 3, at the bank of T15, a marshal was about to execute given orders.
Standing on a lever with a dowel in hand, he leaned into the track, his bright orange uniform standing out.
The marshal waited until so drivers zood past before he unfurled the flag for those intended. It was the black flag with an orange center, and Luca didn’t like the sight of it.
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