While the race rose to a crescendo, certain things were being noticed about it by a specific group of people.
Not the spectators, of course, nor the engineers or race stewards, but the very important individuals whose intellects, alliances, and financial sacrifices molded the frawork of Formula One itself.
These were the powerbrokers of the F1 manufacturing companies: Ferrari, rcedes, Audi, etc. Chairn, Heads of Vehicle Dynamics, Managing Directors, Heads of Partnerships—all n and won of leverage and long mory.
They spectated with little applause and milder reactions to the race. After all, they weren’t here for the entertainnt like the majority.
So what had happened that piqued their interest?
Luca and Luigi. The Z24 and the W12 performances.
For the past races this season, Ferrari magnates have always been surprised by the reality of their own product performing far above its conceived ceiling. Not on paper, not in simulation, but in bare race conditions, and the car always found this strange gear when no one but Luca was inside it.
On the other hand, rcedes leadership saw the sa thing forming for Luigi, but differently.
The W12 wasn’t being better—Luigi was.
Tire life, balance, restraint, power, and aggression—Antonio Luigi carried it all, handling a super car way better than anyone else on the grid.
Because of this, it was expected that they would view Luigi as soone who had yet to reach his full potential despite being 28 years old.
Though he had had his shortcomings in the SA Grand Prix, the progress on each subsequent lap ever since the restart suggested a burgeoning, as if new depths of improvent were still erging.
However, the elites were unaware of one thing.
They didn’t know that Luigi—and Marko— had been placed under an established private program designed to push their physical limits until they could command a super car at its absolute threshold.
No compromise. No half-asures.
But to the utmost degree, a machine at that level demands.
They didn’t know because Mr. Campanella and his crew had been scrupulously discreet about it. Not even the board and the managent were aware, let alone the manufacturers themselves.
Squadra Corse was guilty of industrial espionage—and they have gotten away with it.
Unfortunately, ignorance of the situation pushed rcedes toward conclusions they might not have reached otherwise.
If Luigi was already extracting this level of performance from the AMG W12, did it an he was ready for sothing more?
A new model, built specifically around him and introduced over ti?
It could elevate everything further.
If they acted on this, rcedes would beco the first constructor to field two HiCE-powered machines on the grid. Though, as it stood, they alone were already the first to have THREE separate models in planning and manufacturing.
On the flip side, Ferrari were thinking the sa, but theirs was more constrained.
Unlike rcedes, they lacked the industrial abundance at the mont.
They were also contractually bound to favor Jackson Racing. Ferrari could not openly divert their best materials or developnts toward Trampos, no matter how tempting the prospect was.
Hopefully, the legal internal agents facilitating the tilt in priority would be successful. The Rising Suns had a more promising future than the Silver Stallions.
Because of Luca and Luigi, a new technological revolution was coming earlier than expected!
[57th Lap]
P1– Luca Rennick
P2– Antonio Luigi ( 0.995)
It was getting tight with less than ten laps left on the board in the South African Grand Prix.
Maintaining a pace far superior to the chaos behind them, Luca and Luigi broke through the pack, putting the field a full lap down one by one. In a matter of monts, drivers like Józef Konarski and Desmond Lloyd were relegated to the rear.
What a contrast. Clean air up front and total control for the leaders. Survival mode for everyone else behind. No rcy.
As rcedes and Ferrari powerhouses stord past, the field was forced to acknowledge their overwhelming dominance.
But all bliss broke the mont it beca clear that Victor Surmann was about to be lapped.
If Luca was going to keep his blistering pace untouched, he had to cut through the one man he shouldn’t have to fight.
"WOOOOOOOHHHHHH!"
Trampos had always envisioned both their drivers close together in-race, side by side—but not this way, not leader and lapped man.
Red Ferrari. Red Ferrari. On the first straight.
[Backmarker ahead: 1.5 sec]
For Luca, the approach didn’t break a sweat. He had just put Konarski and Lloyd two laps down: Victor, languishing in P17, was simply the next obstacle.
But as the realization sank in that he was closing on his teammate, a cold knot tightened in his guts.
**Luca, Vic’s been inford. You have a clean pass—no resistance. Calm and smooth**
The team’s word was enough, so Luca leaned into the throttle, pressure building corner by corner until the gap vanished entirely.
Carefully, he slipped into the created space. No need for a blue flag; Victor had eased wide exactly as instructed.
As Luca swept past, their gazes t through their visors, a glance that sohow lasted longer than the instant of speed.
What silent ssage was passed?
It remained unknown as Luca surged ahead. anwhile, in Victor’s cockpit, he lowered his head slightly in accountability.
"...And there you have it—no one is safe out there, not even his own teammate, as Luca Rennick continues to run riot at the front of the field! Absolute authority...!
"...And don’t forget Antonio Luigi—he’s still right there. Two titans at the head of the pack, separated by inches of asphalt and months of rivalry..."
Caught between maintaining his push and heeding the looming threat of the Black Dread, Luca chose the forr, ignoring the danger stalking in his mirrors.
Later on the sa lap, Lloyd’s teammate, Alejandro Vasquez, beca the next obstacle.
The Velox Hispania team was certainly not having their best Grand Prix.
And as ever, Luca, pitiless as promised, was always going to add salt to his rivals’ wounds. He closed in calmly, aiming for a clean, effortless pass. No drama needed.
But as the gap shrank, Luca noticed fussy twitches from the rcedes, indicating Vasquez was either hesitating or genuinely trying to defend.
’Don’t kid yourself now, mate,’ Luca mused.
He didn’t know if Vasquez needed a reminder, but the rules explicitly required him to let him through.
However, even after an entire lap, Alejandro Vasquez didn’t yield.
Luca applied relentless pressure, probing every inch of his defense, yet careful not to be too aggressive. And Alejandro Vasquez, seasoned enough, was able to counter his feints, leaving the Mazerunner confused and frustrated.
Lap after lap, the space remained closed, every overtaking opportunity expertly denied. By the ti they reached the final kink, Luca’s irritation had grown, and he swore to bulldoze through if he was denied again.
"...a surprising scene, folks! Alejandro Vásquez, once again, refused to yield to the faster car..."
"...That’s the second ti he’s ignored the blue flag this Grand Prix, and it’s starting to cost others. Rennick is absolutely flying, and yet here’s Vásquez, holding his line, making the Italian fight for every inch..."
"...This is exactly the kind of scenario stewards frown upon—blocking the race leader unnecessarily. The crowd’s getting restless, and teams are on edge. Rennick deserves that clean passage, but it seems Alejandro is making him work for it...!"
"WOOOOOOOOOHHHHH!"
From the outside, this could look like a stubborn driver with a grudge, refusing to yield to Luca. But what the world didn’t yet see was that the most strategic move of this F1 era was already in motion!
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