My Formula 1 System

Race Day: April. 22, Bahrain International Circuit, Manama, Bahrain.

The race began at 12:30 pm. The weather above the Circuit was deemed perfect for the day's event. The sun shone brightly, casting clear skies with minimal cloud cover, bringing about warm temperatures hovering around 77–86°F.

A light breeze brushed through the stands, serving as a backdrop to the commentator's resonating words. Visibility was excellent, favoring both drivers and spectators thanks to the ideal atmospheric conditions. Even the structure of the circuit was magnificent, mirroring the modernity of the training facilities where the teams had practiced. The asphalt was pristine, bordered by fine grass beyond the bright red and white tracks. The grandstands featured exquisite roofs, providing fans with shelter from the sun and a welcoming shade as the single-seaters zoomed past, navigating the 44-lap race.

Sitting in the paddock seats once again were Luca, Victor, and other non-driving team members, their legs tense and ready to leap in celebration at any overtake Ansel might manage against the top rivals.

The race progressed, and Luca was so far satisfied with the current results—at least where Ansel was concerned. Haas remained a setback, with P8 being his best position so far. Ansel, however, was pushing hard for P2, putting on an impressive display that forced the Bahrain crowd to cheer.

Luca leaned in, absorbing every detail of the race as it slowly approached its peak. He noticed that some drivers, especially Addams and Aaronson, were flaunting moves he recognized from last season's races. Luca wasn't sure if it was because those clips were still fresh in his memory, but he found their strategies strikingly easy to read once he focused on subtle shifts in their chassis movements.

Even Ansel was repeating the same in-out-lane maneuver all over again, trying to pass Addams on the inside of the track before cutting to the outside. This move would ideally set him up in the middle of the racing line—a textbook overtake in anyone's opinion. But Addams, as strong as ever, was an expert at defending his position. Although Ansel briefly claimed P2, the leaderboard consistently displayed Addams' name in the second spot. Meanwhile, Aaronson was cruising up front, seemingly poised to win the Bahrain Grand Prix as well.n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

However, by the 20th lap, the track became heated, and all the team paddocks had their members on their feet. The congestion was intense: Addams was closing the gap to Aaronson while his teammate, Walding, surged to P6, overtaking Volyinski to position himself just behind Derstappen in a fierce battle. The clash extended to Kristensen, resulting in three single-seaters bottlenecked at the chicane until Walding emerged in P4, with Kristensen following close behind.

Luca's concern shifted to Ansel, whose Trampos-colored car was alone in the leading pack, just a few seconds ahead of the ever-hungry Miles Bellingham. The 30th lap forced Ansel into a pit stop, his car barreling down the pit lane.

He had to get back into the race as quickly as possible, and the pitstop didn't look like it would make his race any better.

"...ohh, and it's slow. It's a slow one. Hahn would wish for better as he gets back into it... but Bellingham is on that DRS; he's gonna fuel that frustration!"

Luca gripped his hair as the roar of Miles's engine seemed to crawl over his body, making him feel as if he were Ansel. He couldn't help but wonder how Ansel felt at that moment. The pitstop took a nail-biting 4.9 seconds, and Ansel could only try to cut back. But with Miles's momentum, Trampos dropped to P4.

The whole paddock cursed as Squadra Corse fans leaped to their feet in jubilation. Their new star was fulfilling the hopes they had placed on him. With Derstappen out of form, Miles Bellingham had restored the renowned team to its former heights.

"...Bellingham makes the exit, right behind BV, and Hahn can't keep up with that momentum. The 40th lap begins, and Trampos Racing loses sight of the podium...!"

"...poor, poor, poor. Even P4 doesn't look secure for him. Walding is closing in, and with the sheer determination the 20-year-old has shown all season for his team, it's only a matter of time before he makes a move..."

Mr. Grant could only remain silent in his viewing post as he observed the race intently, speaking with his assistants occasionally. For him, he had wanted to groom Luca to become the bedrock and pillar of Trampos Racing, where Luca would be the very powerhouse needed to gain the points on every GP. Mr. Grant was just realizing it now that Luca was already the pillar of Trampos Racing the moment he finished third in Bad Rauenburg. And now, the whole team have been aligned with his influence. The whole team, including Ansel.

Mr. Grant remained silent as the leading pack approached the final sector, the crowd on their feet to give a deafening round of applause and cheers. Trampos Racing remained seated, hoping for a miracle to push Ansel's car beyond P4. He had raced well today, but the odds were not in his favor.

Ansel made a bold attempt on the inside, trying for a last-minute outpace. But Miles felt the pressure, kept his cool, and maintained his racing line. On the final straight, all the top cars had equal acceleration with DRS, pulling away from each other as the checkered flag waved to conclude the Bahrain Grand Prix.

"...with an incredible finish to the race, Aaronson claims first in the championship for the second race in a row! Addams taking second with Miles Bellingham making P3 for Squadra Corse Jnr...!"

"...Ansel Hahn gave it his all, you can see the disappointment, but he raced valiantly, keeping Trampos Racing in the fight. He'll take valuable lessons from this race as he looks ahead..."

The Trampos Racing garage remained quiet for a moment, letting the season's theme song echo through the circuit as the crowd cheered for the drivers rolling to a calm stop. Seconds later, the team sprang into action. Luca rose to his feet, taking a deep breath to accept the results the commentators couldn't stop analyzing. The leaderboard clearly displayed Ansel in 4th—a final position they had hoped to avoid.

Luca wondered how high Bueseno had climbed, considering Addams's P2 and Walding's P5. That combination would tally up a frightening score, putting Trampos's lead in jeopardy.

Hatcherk fans were free to celebrate like never before as Aaronson drove by, waving to them. Their second win in the championship was solidifying them as strong contenders, potentially even more than Squadra Corse, given the current standings. Luca began setting up those he would look out for in London, keeping the teams' points in mind. In a situation, he could let Volyinski or Kristensen, Retona's drivers outpace him just for him to keep hold of the real rivals with threatening points.

Weaving through the crowded garage, Luca felt an intense desire to analyze the telemetry data again. Ansel had clearly raced better today than in Azerbaijan, but the competition had been far too fierce. Luca wanted to see if the computers could reveal details invisible to the naked eye.

Arriving at the telemetry room, he found Mr. Grant already present, surrounded by Trampos staff, all clad in their red uniforms. Locking gazes with Mr. Grant, Luca could sense the man's unspoken demand: to get back on the track and help Trampos win a Grand Prix again!