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With just three minutes left on the Q1 clock, the fight on track had reached a boiling point. Lap times were still flashing wildly across the strategy screen, while Alex Sun's position remained locked at P13.
It was the final spot on the edge of Q2. Behind him, several drivers were still out on supersoft tyres, launching into their last flying laps. Any improvement could shove him straight out of the top fifteen.
Inside the Prema pit bay, the air felt suffocating. Mark pressed the strategy board tightly against his chest, his knuckles turning pale. Leaning forward so far he was nearly touching the monitor, his eyes were nailed to the shifting timing screen.
His throat worked repeatedly as cold sweat slid down his temples. In his mind, he replayed the decision again and again.
When Alex Sun insisted on running Q1 on Medium tyres to save the supersofts for later, it was Mark who had ultimately agreed.
If that call knocked Alex Sun out in Q1, the responsibility would be his alone. The pressure of that possibility, layered on top of the escalating on-track battle, made every breath feel unsteady. Each flicker of the timing board tugged at his already frayed nerves.
"Drugovich is still pushing! He's 0.05 seconds up on Alex Sun in Sector Two—he's almost at the line!"
Rob Smedley's voice came through the broadcast feed, thick with tension.
"Alex Sun is defending with a single 1:55.240 on the Medium tyres. If Drugovich improves, he drops to P14. The fight for Q2 couldn't be tighter!"
Rebecca Lin stood beside Alex Sun, maintaining perfect composure. She trusted his ability completely, yet seeing his fragile position on the screen still tightened something in her chest. Her hands, folded neatly over her black-stockinged legs, clenched unconsciously, fingertips pressing faintly into her skin.
Her face remained calm, eyes fixed on Alex Sun's name. There was no visible panic—only focus and quiet belief. Only the slight curl of her fingers betrayed the tension she kept hidden, silently cheering him on.
Alex Sun, meanwhile, leaned back in the rest chair, casually tapping the mineral water bottle with his fingers. His gaze stayed locked on Drugovich's live sector trace. His expression didn't waver.
Noticing Mark's rigid, tense back, Alex Sun already knew his lap would hold.
He spoke evenly, confidence steady in his voice.
"Mark, relax. That lap has enough weight behind it. They won't find the time to beat me."
Rebecca Lin gave a small nod. Her hands gradually loosened, the tension leaving her fingers. The trust in her eyes grew even clearer.
At the same time, racing livestreams and forums back home had exploded.
Ever since his F2 victory in Monaco, Alex Sun had drawn massive attention as a rising rookie driver. Now countless fans were glued to this nerve-shredding qualification battle—on edge over the standings, yet impressed by his composure.
The bullet comments flew by so fast they blurred together:
"It's over! Drugovich is going to beat him!"
"Mark looks like he's about to collapse—how is Alex Sun still so calm?!"
"When did Prema's pit get a goddess like that? Those legs are unreal. What's her relationship with Alex Sun?"
"How is this kid still sitting there? I'm already reaching for heart meds!"
As Drugovich crossed the line, Mark's trembling voice broke the silence in the pit.
"Drugovich crosses! Green-green-yellow! 1:55.300! Just 0.06 slower than you!"
The moment the words landed, he clenched his fist hard. Cold sweat dampened the edge of the strategy board in his grip. The crushing mix of guilt and tension eased—but he still didn't dare relax completely.
He let out a long breath.
"We're safe. Holding P13 for now. There are still cars pushing, but the gaps are small. That Medium tyre lap was unbelievable—you held off a whole group on supersofts."
Alex Sun gave a slight nod, calm but edged with steel.
"Told you they didn't have it. Saving the supersofts for Q2 was worth it."
But before the words had fully settled, a violent crash erupted from Turn 15, shattering the rhythm of the session.
The broadcast cut instantly to the scene. MP Racing's Zendeli, desperate to improve, carried too much speed into the corner. The rear snapped into the outside barrier, the car spinning several times before coming to rest near the runoff. The rear was heavily damaged—his session over.
The third Red flag was deployed.
Smedley's voice followed immediately, tinged with regret.
"Zendeli's in the wall! Lost it at Turn 15 pushing for a final improvement. Rear damage is terminal. His time stays at 1:56.579—he's out!"
Race control quickly announced over TR:
"Due to extensive debris and required cleanup, Q1 is terminated early. Final classification will stand based on current lap times."
Mark staggered back a step, steadying himself against the wall. He wiped his face with a trembling hand and dropped the strategy board onto the desk with a heavy thud.
"I shouldn't have listened to you," he said with a strained laugh. "Those few minutes nearly killed me. I was terrified this strategy would knock you out in Q1. I wouldn't have been able to live it down."
He looked at Alex Sun, the tightness finally draining from his shoulders. The lingering fear in his eyes slowly gave way to exhilaration.
"Good thing the Red flag froze the standings. Running Q1 on Medium tyres… you're terrifying."
Rebecca Lin exhaled deeply as well. The stiffness in her back eased, her hands fully relaxing as she smiled brightly at Alex Sun.
"I knew you could do it."
Online, the mood flipped instantly from panic to euphoria.
"Running Medium tyres and letting a Red flag lock it in? That's ice-cold!"
"Thanks Zendeli for the emotional rollercoaster—from heart attack to ecstasy in one second!"
At 14:30, race control confirmed the final Q1 results. Prema advanced both cars to Q2: Piastri in P4, Alex Sun in P13.
Eliminated: Verschoor, Nannini, Zendeli, Sato, Samaia, Deledda.
Track marshals rapidly cleared the debris from Zendeli's car as teams immediately shifted focus to Q2. The pit lane burst into activity—engine calibrations, clattering tools, voices overlapping. The tension only intensified.
Inside the Prema pit, the mechanics moved with precision, fitting supersoft tyres onto Alex Sun's car and thoroughly checking the brakes, suspension, and engine data. Mark crouched beside the car, eyes locked on the tablet, reviewing the data stream line by line.
Without looking up, he spoke in a firm, controlled tone.
"Q2 target: top ten. We've got two sets of supersofts—use them wisely. You'll still need them for the sprint race. Protect the tyres."
He tapped the screen.
"Stretch the warm-up lap to build temperature properly. Don't burn performance too early. We need your maximum lap—but we also need tyre life in reserve."
Leaning against the garage wall, Alex Sun took a sip of water and muttered lazily,
"Barely rested and we're back at it. The schedule's brutal. My arms haven't even recovered, and now I've got to push on supersofts while managing them."
Rebecca Lin stood beside him, a light breeze from the garage ventilation lifting the loose strands near her temples. When she smiled, it sharpened the clean lines of her profile. Her eyes shone brightly—no anxiety, only anticipation.
"I've been waiting to see you on supersofts. The lines you were running in practice were incredible. With that extra grip, you'll set something special."
She stepped half a pace closer, the tips of her ears tinged pink. A mischievous smile curved her lips as she lowered her voice.
"If you make Q3, I've got a mystery reward for you. I promise you'll like it."
Alex Sun looked at her, the lazy glint in his eyes vanishing. His gaze lingered on her flushed ears and bright expression. A slow smile formed.
"A mystery reward? Now I'm curious."
The confidence in his voice deepened.
"I know exactly what the supersofts can do. The lines I refined in practice will pay off. I won't disappoint you. And I won't miss out on that reward."
He hooked a finger into the collar of his racing suit. The relaxed aura disappeared entirely, replaced by sharp focus. The track was all that remained in his eyes.
Rebecca Lin waved lightly, smiling.
"I believe in you. Just go out there and drive. I'll be waiting in the pit—with your reward."
At that moment, the Sky Sports cameras zoomed in on Alex Sun's car.
Rob Smedley's voice rang out again, filled with anticipation.
"Q2 is about to begin! Alex Sun is now on supersoft tyres. Remember, his Medium tyre lap was already outstanding. I can't wait to see what he produces with the extra grip!"
"Prema's two cars, along with Hitech's Lawson and Vips, are strong contenders for the top ten. This is going to be fierce!"
His co-commentator added:
"The supersoft's operating window is extremely narrow. At 38 degrees, degradation accelerates rapidly. Drivers realistically have two laps at most to deliver. One mistake, and Q2 is over. There's virtually no margin for error."
...
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