Race Control had a mandate never to let a Grand Prix lose its spectacle due to a yellow flag or any other hiccup. So, it had been a race within a race, executed by the marshals, the stewards, and the clerks who acted as the track's nervous system. The cheering fans on the balconies and patios really had no idea of the invisible choreography that maintained order and continuity.
On the ground, the marshals had cleared the debris from the racing line in a matter of seconds, sprinting across the hot asphalt to retrieve shards of carbon fiber that could have caused a puncture at 300 km/h.
In the tower, the stewards had verified that no one had gained a significant unfair advantage during the caution period.
Once the Track Clear signal crackled through the headsets, the race organizers transitioned the event back to life with a single command: Green.
That awakened the cars from their sloth.
