Lewis Hamilton. Pole Position!
"YES!"
In the Mercedes garage, George Russell lost control. He clenched his fists and pumped his arms, screaming with unadulterated joy.
Ahhhhh!
Hamilton had done it again. The reigning champion, facing immense pressure, had detonated his energy reserves and delivered.
The pressure wasn't just about Singapore. The cumulative weight of the season, the struggles, and the bitter defeat at Monza had ignited a raging fire in Hamilton. Even when Kai retired in Q3, Hamilton didn't relax. He stayed laser-focused, delivering a lap for the history books. Absolute perfection.
1:36.015.
Hamilton's pole lap was a staggering 0.319 seconds faster than second place. On a street circuit like Singapore, with its endless sequence of corners, that margin was terrifying.
It brought back memories of Melbourne. Under pressure from a young rookie, Hamilton had unleashed a magic lap, securing pole by over half a second. Now, in Singapore, the champion was making another statement.
And this time, it wasn't just aimed at Kai. It was aimed at the other young phenom: Max Verstappen!
Since his engine failure in Monaco, where he started 20th and carved through the field to finish 9th, Verstappen seemed reborn. Unwilling to let Kai hog the spotlight, Verstappen was fully realizing his talent, shining brightly and firmly establishing his dominance over his teammate Ricciardo.
Singapore was no different. Verstappen was the only driver in Q3 who could even hold a candle to Hamilton. Their pace was in a different league. If Kai hadn't retired after just one run, the narrative of the young guns hunting the established champion would have been perfectly set.
Yet, Hamilton proved his worth.
A pole is just a pole, but the terrifying margin of victory proved Hamilton was at his absolute peak. He was determined to defend his crown.
Standing in the garage, Russell watched the screens, his blood boiling. For once, he lost his usual composure and cheered wildly.
The F2 season was intensely competitive. Russell was firmly in Mercedes' sights. Norris was rumored to be signing with McLaren. Albon had joined the chat in the wake of Ricciardo's departure from Red Bull. Kai's meteoric rise this year had shattered the old hierarchy, proving the impact of the new generation. The doors were wide open for F2 and GP3 drivers.
Although F2 and GP3 didn't race in Singapore, the young drivers were present, absorbing the atmosphere and learning the ropes while the teams evaluated them for future promotions.
Russell watched the silver Number 44 tear through the Singapore night, his eyes filled with admiration.
Facing the relentless attacks of Kai and Verstappen, Hamilton's regal response didn't just conquer Singapore; it conquered Russell.
Involuntarily, Russell yearned for the day he would wear the silver suit, leading the team to the summit amidst roaring crowds.
People say everyone is secretly a Ferrari fan. But Russell only had eyes for Mercedes. He was entirely devoted to the Silver Arrows; silver blood ran in his veins.
If the summer rumors were true—that Mercedes wanted to drop Bottas and chase Kai—then...
Why couldn't it be Russell?
At the very least, Russell believed he could do anything Kai could do. If Wolff gave him the chance, he would repay that trust. He was ready to step into F1 next year and become Kai's worst nightmare.
Watching the grandstands erupt for Car 44, Russell's heart pounded relentlessly.
He wasn't the only one reacting.
When Singapore Qualifying concluded, the broadcast, social media, and the paddock exploded.
Hamilton, Verstappen, Vettel. The top three.
Bottas, Raikkonen, Ricciardo. Following closely. (Kai's Q3 time was deleted due to his retirement, promoting Raikkonen).
It was clear: Mercedes, Red Bull, and Ferrari were intertwined in a brutal, unpredictable fight. The intensity was unprecedented. Since the summer break, the "Big Three" had all brought their A-game.
Unfortunately, Kai's 10-place grid penalty for the power unit change broke the balance. He would start P15 (dropping from an assumed P5). Force India's Sergio Perez, finally bouncing back after two dismal Q1 exits, would start P7.
The situation had morphed into Mercedes and Red Bull teaming up to hunt a lone Ferrari.
If Wolff and Horner joined forces, Vettel was in grave danger.
Conversely, if Arrivabene could exploit the suspicion between Wolff and Horner, Ferrari might find a lifeline.
The big question: What strategy would Ferrari deploy for Kai?
While the paddock buzzed with theories of Wolff and Horner colluding, reporters and fans were stunned by a bizarre sight.
After qualifying, Daniel Ricciardo found Kai standing outside the garage, getting some fresh air away from the crowds.
The internet lost its mind. Wait, is Ferrari teaming up with Red Bull to overthrow Mercedes?!
Classic paddock drama. The slightest breeze could trigger a hurricane of rumors.
But the reality...
Ricciardo had come specifically to kick Kai while he was down. "Hahahaha! You finally got a taste of it! Someone else is finally experiencing my pain!"
His massive grin was blinding.
Kai knew this was Daniel's unique way of offering comfort. "If you keep saying that, the other teams will cry. I'm not the only one who suffers engine failures."
Ricciardo inspected Kai. "You don't look sad at all. Good. No need to worry then."
Usually, when Ricciardo retired due to an engine failure, people tip-toed around him, offering platitudes and secretly wondering if he regretted signing with Renault.
But Kai was different. He was direct.
When Ricciardo had issues, Kai would ask him point-blank if he regretted his choices. He would tell him that anything was possible in F1—look at Williams, 5th last year, dead last this year. Then, he would sincerely rub salt in the wound.
"If you have no faith in Renault, it's not too late to go beg Horner for your seat back."
That was Kai. Joking on the surface, but offering genuine empathy underneath.
It was the same now.
Kai smiled. "Even if I'm sad, I'll save it for after the race. Why waste emotions now? Should I mourn my lost youth?"
Ricciardo blinked. Seeing Kai's smile, his own wide grin faltered slightly.
"Are you really not disappointed? I thought you had a shot at pole," Ricciardo said, unusually serious.
Kai nodded earnestly. "Yeah, I thought so too. Which means you guys should be terrified tomorrow. Our car has massive potential here, and I've won a few sprint races in GP3."
"Hahaha!" Ricciardo burst out laughing. "You're a funny guy."
"I'm serious. But fine, whatever." Kai shrugged. "Of course I'm disappointed. I just need to process it. Otherwise, what do you think I'm doing standing out here? Posing for photos?"
Ricciardo opened his mouth to retort, but Kai cut him off. "Shut up, Daniel."
Ricciardo exaggeratedly zipped his lips shut, his eyes dancing with amusement.
"But," Kai exhaled softly, "before I joined F1, my mom was worried."
"She said F1 is different from other sports. In other sports, you can push yourself, burn your energy, and maybe pull off a miracle. But in F1, if the car is broken, it's broken. Even if you burn yourself to ash, it won't matter. She was worried I wouldn't be able to handle that helplessness and frustration."
Kai looked at Ricciardo.
Ricciardo paused, dropping the clown act. A hint of sadness touched his eyes.
"I told her that's just part of racing. Driver, car, team. We work together to push machines to the limit. Mechanical failures are part of that exploration."
"If it were easy, where would the fun be?"
Kai stopped there.
He knew Ricciardo understood. Years ago, Ricciardo was the golden boy, Red Bull's future champion. But trapped in the team's political crossfire, he was losing his edge, seemingly unable to find joy in racing anymore.
But mechanical failures are racing 101. No one is immune.
Kai hoped Ricciardo would find his passion again, while simultaneously using Ricciardo to motivate himself.
Ricciardo caught Kai's gaze. He was supposed to be comforting Kai, but somehow the roles had reversed.
Ricciardo flashed a genuine smile. "Well, sir, you've awakened a lion. You might have some trouble in the race tomorrow."
"A lion? Are you sure you don't mean an ostrich? Or a kangaroo?" Kai asked deadpan.
Ricciardo blinked, then threw his head back and roared with laughter. "You mean a koala? A koala?!"
Inside the paddock, the variables introduced by Kai and Verstappen promised an unpredictable race.
Outside, the atmosphere was electric.
Mercedes fans rejoiced; this was their chance to bury Ferrari. Red Bull fans were hyped; even with only a mathematical chance at the title, they wanted to ruin Mercedes' day. The Tifosi were fraught with anxiety; the rollercoaster of hope and despair was testing their hearts.
Historically, starting P15 in Singapore meant Kai should aim for points—top six would be a massive victory. The battle for the win would likely be between Hamilton, Verstappen, and Vettel.
But...
What if the 2017 start repeated itself?
Amidst the noise and speculation, the main event finally arrived.
And so did the unexpected: A sudden rain shower.
Heavy and violent!
A wet street race is a recipe for disaster. Just as fans debated if the FIA should delay the start, the rain stopped.
The forecast predicted no more rain for two hours.
However, the track was still wet.
After inspecting the circuit, the FIA declared a wet start 30 minutes before lights out. This meant the top 10 qualifiers were not forced to start on their Q2 tires. They could choose Intermediates or Wets. (Or slick tires, if they were suicidal).
The tire rules were thrown out the window.
Strategy suddenly became infinitely complex. Which tire to start on? When to pit? The next 30 minutes would test the mettle of every strategy team.
With the track drying slowly, the top 10 cars all bolted on green-walled Intermediate tires.
Kai included.
If everyone ran the same strategy, Singapore could turn into a boring procession.
The key was how to surprise the opponents and break the deadlock.
Before the lights even came on, Kai's brain was whirring. He exchanged a glance with Charles Leclerc starting ahead of him. Both smiled and pulled on their helmets.
P14 Gasly. P13 Leclerc. P12 Sainz. P11 Alonso. P10 Hulkenberg.
These were Kai's immediate targets. He couldn't afford to look at the leaders yet.
One bite at a time.
Turn 1 at Marina Bay is a left-hander. Pole position (and odd numbers) are on the right side of the grid. Therefore, at the start, everyone dives to the left to claim the inside line.
That's exactly why the 2017 crash happened. Vettel (pole) squeezed left, hitting the fast-starting Verstappen, while Raikkonen (P4) tried to sneak up the inside left. Boom.
This year was the same.
Hamilton instantly squeezed left. Verstappen and Vettel launched. The three cars tangled immediately!
"LIGHTS OUT AND AWAY WE GO!"
"The front row gets away evenly! Hamilton attacks Verstappen! But Sebastian Vettel! A magnificent start!"
"Vettel's reaction time beats both! He attacks Verstappen! He leads into Turn 1!"
"Verstappen defends stubbornly! Thanks to Hamilton blocking the line, Vettel locks up! He can't make the pass into Turn 1!"
"Car 5 and Car 33 are intertwined!"
"Straight! Turn 4 approaching!"
"Unbelievable! Vettel! Slipstream! Pulls out!"
"Vettel attacks again! Claims the inside! Verstappen tries to fight back, but Vettel takes the corner!"
"Ladies and Gentlemen! VETTEL IS HERE!"
"Vettel passes Verstappen! Up to P2!"
Tense. Thrilling. The humid, heavy air crackled with sparks.
Right from the start, Vettel drew his blade. He was proving that there was another four-time champion fighting for this title.
The broadcast focused entirely on the breathtaking duel at the front. Croft's voice cracked. The midfield and back of the grid were completely forgotten, obscured by the heat haze and spray.
But being ignored doesn't mean nothing is happening.
Starting P15, a lone Ferrari was wedged between Saubers, Toro Rossos, and Haas cars. Every driver around him was sharpening their knives.
Every F1 driver is proud. They don't fear competition, whether it's Hamilton or Kai.
Now they had a chance. A wounded phoenix is worse than a chicken. On a street circuit where track position is king, defending is easier. Everyone wanted a piece of the rookie sensation.
Especially Raikkonen. He often looked indifferent, in "retirement mode," but his competitive fire still burned.
Today, Kimi started P13 in his Sauber, right ahead of Kai.
No one believed Kimi hadn't noticed the kid who took his Ferrari seat sitting right behind him.
Kai was familiar with this scenario. GP3 sprint races were exactly like this, only rougher and more brutal.
Red lights out.
Kai launched perfectly, tailing Raikkonen. He flicked the wheel left, probing the inside for a gap. Instantly, he felt the pressure.
Raikkonen reacted cleanly, cutting left to block. Magnussen (P16) also cut right, filling the middle line.
Blocked! Surrounded!
But Kai was prepared. He feinted left, then immediately flicked right in one fluid motion.
Car 22 slid smoothly behind the Number 7 Sauber, decisively diving to the dirty right side of the track.
He pulled alongside instantly!
From the start, Kai had aimed for the dirty side. The left feint was just a dummy, playing on Magnussen's aggression and Kimi's vigilance. The dirty right side had more space, but it offered less grip and wore tires faster. Given Singapore's usual one-stop strategy, drivers typically avoided stressing their tires early on.
Normally, Kai would do the same. But this wasn't normal. He had to break the mold to create chaos. He wanted more than just points.
Furthermore, they were on Intermediates. As soon as a dry line formed, everyone would pit for slicks. These tires wouldn't need to last long anyway. The front-runners were driving conservatively, preserving the Inters because they didn't know how fast the track would dry. That hesitation was Kai's window.
So, the dirty side it was.
Without hesitation, Kai cut right. Launch, dummy, accelerate. Flawless.
As expected, Kimi had the chance to squeeze Kai to the right, but he didn't risk moving to the dirty side. Despite his aggressive racing style, Kimi was a very clean, fair racer.
And Kai seized the gap!
Vroom, vroom! Car 22 charged down the outside, pulling alongside and passing the Sauber.
Through the mist and spray, it was hard to see clearly. Only a blur of red could be seen tearing through the pack.
Sainz, starting P12, was trying to break through. Ahead of him, Alonso and Hulkenberg were battling, blocking the track. Sainz was forced to the dirty right side to avoid rear-ending them.
He didn't expect a red flash to appear in his mirrors, closing in before Turn 1.
Sainz: ???
Instinctively, Sainz held his line. He didn't block aggressively, but he squeezed the space, committing to Turn 1.
In the spray, it was impossible to distinguish the cars. It was just a roaring torrent pouring into the corner. Sainz and Kai were swept up in it.
But Kai didn't yield. He moved further right, completely onto the dirty line, widening his entry arc.
This was what Sainz wanted. But seeing Kai actually do it made Sainz nervous. Why did it feel like Kai was happy about this? Like he planned it?
Sainz's intuition was correct.
Intermediates on a damp track at the start meant zero grip. Kai wanted to attack early, but relying solely on late braking on the dirty side was suicide. He needed a plan.
Sainz thought his squeeze had forced Kai's hand. In reality, Kai took the outside willingly; Sainz was just a prop.
Turn 1 arrived.
While everyone else bunched up on the inside and middle, fighting for position and getting bogged down, Kai danced alone on the outside.
Light. Fluid. Smooth. Hugging the top of the corner, the red car moved like modern art, flowing through Turn 1.
Sainz: ???
Sainz hadn't read the script.
With Kai on the dirty side with no grip, Sainz should have defended easily. But that's not what happened.
Car 22 and Car 55 entered Turn 1 together. Sainz had the advantage on entry. But mid-corner, Car 22 rode the kerb perfectly, maximizing its arc. Its mid-corner momentum completely overpowered Car 55.
Exiting Turn 1, Car 22 surged ahead in a straight line.
Only then did Sainz realize: while Kai lacked grip on the dirty side, Sainz's Intermediates on the racing line weren't up to temperature either. Grip was equally terrible for both. Kai had won by using superior car control to widen his line and carry momentum.
It happened in a flash.
No time for confusion. Sainz watched Kai hug the racing line into Turn 2.
Damn it!
The corners in Singapore are tight, numerous, and relentless. Turn 1, 2, and 3 arrive in rapid succession—Slow, Fast, Slow. It's a test of rhythm.
Exiting Turn 1, Kai felt the danger.
Zero grip meant zero grip. Despite widening his arc, the rear wing shuddered violently on exit. And Turns 2 and 3 were immediately upon him. No time to adjust.
Displaying absolute car control, Kai wrestled the car through the sequence. He used every inch of track width. His right-side tires were completely off the track.
Worse, his left-side tires were about to exceed track limits too. And diagonally ahead on the right, Alonso and Hulkenberg were battling, occupying the racing line and leaving Kai no room.
Chaos! Crowding! Tension!
In the nick of time, Kai didn't brake. He lifted. He reduced speed slightly, keeping the car glued to the white line at the apex, using delicate steering inputs to slide through. Dancing on the edge of the cliff in a hurricane, exuding a wild, reckless elegance.
Alonso and Hulkenberg separated. Sainz and Leclerc were closing in, ready to re-pass Kai.
But ahead, the track suddenly opened up.
Exiting Turn 2, a short straight appeared. Kai's line opened up.
He fed the throttle back in smoothly. The car accelerated through the short straight and the right-hand kink, utilizing the wider space. He not only left Sainz and Leclerc behind, but his front left tire was now right on Hulkenberg's rear right.
Alonso was sandwiched between Kai and Hulkenberg.
It happened so fast. Turn 3's concrete walls rushed at them.
Wheel-to-wheel! Three wide!
Kai and Hulkenberg almost collided! Alonso and Hulkenberg almost collided! The narrow track couldn't hold them all. The slightest miscalculation would trigger a massive pile-up.
Flash of lightning!
Kai stayed impossibly calm. He continued carving the corner on the dirty side, maximizing the track width, maintaining rhythm, waiting.
Wait. Wait.
Alonso braked first to avoid rear-ending the car ahead. "Fuck! What is that kid thinking?! Going all out on lap one? This isn't a 100-meter sprint!"
Hulkenberg braked next, gasping, reigning in his car, watching helplessly as Kai understeered toward the wall.
However!
The expected crash never came.
Extreme braking, but not a sudden stomp. Trail braking. Car 22 ghosted past the right-side wall.
Centimeters. Millimeters. True razor-thin margins. Surviving the gap between the wall and disaster.
Survival in the cracks!
He tore open a gap on the claustrophobic Singapore circuit, executing an incredible gamble.
Still no time to breathe. Hugging the apex of the hairpin, the Ferrari red blurred past like a breeze.
Inch by inch, he pushed Hulkenberg behind him, squeezing out of the bottleneck first. Pass, accelerate, block.
Seamless!
Despite the rear wing shaking and the car sliding slightly, Car 22 was playing with fire. But this is the essence of wet racing. A high-wire act where both you and your opponents are dealing with massive uncertainty. Car performance gaps shrink; driver courage and skill reign supreme.
On a narrow road, the brave win.
Kai had successfully dispatched Hulkenberg and Alonso.
While the broadcast focused on Vettel passing Verstappen after Turn 3, a storm had swept through the back of the pack.
Ignored by the cameras, but very real.
When the broadcast finally cut back, Brundle instinctively looked for Kai. Having watched Kai's entire GP3 season, Brundle knew starting P15 in Singapore wouldn't stop his aggressive instincts. He expected Kai to make waves.
But when he finally spotted Kai, Brundle's jaw dropped. "P9!"
"Starting P15, Kai is up to P9! He's in the points! Good God, what did we miss at the start?!"
Common sense dictates that wet tracks and Intermediates are a disadvantage, especially in Singapore where tires warm up slowly. It means the start is dangerous and requires caution. Even Hamilton, Verstappen, and Vettel were careful, not wanting to repeat 2017.
But to Kai, it was an advantage. He used the objective conditions and his opponents' cautious mindset, adapting his driving style to turn the chaotic start into his own solo showcase.
Praise! Astonishment!
It wouldn't stop.
"Kai is gambling! An all-out attack on Intermediates! Is this recklessness? Hot-headed impulse?"
"Or did Ferrari design a special strategy for Kai, different from Vettel's? Is the strategy team finally taking the initiative?"
"It's an unknown. A variable. But without a doubt, the track drying speed and tire degradation will be the key focus, and the ultimate test between the teams."
Before he could finish, disaster struck!