My Formula 1 System

Jimmy Damgaard had been piloting the upgraded RBioL for some time now, a HiCE-powered beast of all-rounding excellence. This made up 90% of his new rigorous regimen, designed to harden his reflexes, condition his muscles, and align his senses with the car's rhythm. This was Jimmy Damgaard's path to becoming a certified super driver.

Davide DiMarco's injury and crash did not enfeeble the upgraded RBioL in any way. That Red Bull still remained as charging as it had always been, even with small tweaks and slight improvements along the way. The Tempesta MkII was no ordinary engine; it was designed to shred corners and, in demerit, strain the human body past comfort.

After the FiammaVeloce of Mercedes, the MkII was next in line with the most relentless g-forces. Yet, when it came to cockpit heat, it was the most disciplining, capable of wilting lesser drivers in minutes.

For a few months now, Damgaard had at least completely cleared the survival tests, not even control tests. To begin with, the survival tests were evaluations that determined whether a driver could even physically endure extended runs inside the RBioL without blacking out or losing control. Passing them didn't mean mastery, but it did mean he could finally stay in the cockpit. Damgaard was close to proving he could fully command the beast, and that's what Velocità wanted to safely confirm before St. Lawrence.

After weeks of training, Jimmy learned how to enter the super F1 car calmly. During his first days, he was mostly anxious and fidgety. Knowing how deadly such a machine was could instill that kind of fear. Velocità's crew moved around him and the RBioL and strapped him in tight when it was time. Final checks and sharp reminders were quickly offered through the radio to Jimmy, and also straight up verbally from those close.

Jimmy Damgaard placed his hands on the wheel and let his fingers recognize its unique contour, and also the special buttons. After a few more confirmations, the crew let go of the tire cloths. They stepped away, and the sleek supercar was released onto the training track.

In compliance with Jimmy's navigation, the Red Bull rolled out for its outlap, to bring warmth into its tyres and systems before the team got to the main business of mirroring in-race performance.

Jimmy took the outlap with courage. He guided the RBioL through the irregularly-shaped training track with smooth and confident inputs. During the outlap, the upgraded RBioL felt like the standard model; it didn't jolt him to the level of a supercar yet, but it was enough to demand his focus.

It was a 3 km training track, and the RBioL flowed under his administration like water through a canal. The team enjoyed the clean rhythm and seamless synchrony so much that he was ordered for a second warming lap before pushing to the main action.

Eventually, the tone shifted as commands for speed-ups crackled through the radio, calling for more race-like intensity. The Norwegian complied and started leaning sharply into corners as if he were dueling with Luca. The Red Bull was forced to take the straights much harder, and as a result, the MkII began to surface itself.

Only just a few laps, and Jimmy Damgaard found himself in the situation of High-Intensity Combustion duress. His arm and chest muscles began to tighten—as if he hadn't been working out for this very endeavour—and his breaths were stolen in little portions. But as a man on a mission to become the best, Jimmy Damgaard held strong and kept the RBioL steady, determined not to falter.

Finazzi happily pumped his fist while the lead strategists and others in the circle nodded heavily to themselves, sharing satisfaction. Jimmy was holding up impressively, meeting the standard they'd only ever seen DiMarco reach during his own attuning period. Finally, someone was rising to the moment.

The team realized they needed to mirror the competition much more than solo laps. So Matteo, already suited and ready, was asked to join the session for paired drills. These included full-power overtaking runs with Damgaard wielding the might of the MkII, aggressive corner snaps, DRS engagements, and more. It was going to be a long day, and without a word of protest, Matteo humbly joined the track, aware of the subordinate role he had now inherited from Damgaard.

The paired drills turned out just as successful as hoped, with Damgaard showing firm control, pace, and synergy with the upgraded RBioL. When the session wrapped and the drivers returned to the garage, Jimmy wore a satisfied smile as crew members congratulated him; the team clapping, exchanging hugs, and celebrating together.

"Good job!"

"Perfect, Jimmy!"

"Elite driving!"

Velocità knew they had acquired their new super driver, and every other team on the grid would soon come to realize it too.

------

The interim period between the British and Canadian Grands Prix eventually drew to a close. All teams and drivers had to finalise their preparations and embark on their journey across the Atlantic.

Canada, a country known for its bedazzling cityscapes and vibrant culture, was ready to host the next spectacle on the calendar. Luca travelled on time, and within two days, he was already with the team, ready to resume from where they'd left off in Berlin.

In a calm corner of the media zone ahead of the Canadian Grand Prix weekend, Mr. Grant, Team Principal of Trampos Racing, sat down for a scheduled interview. The topic turned quickly to Bueseno Velocità's recent move to field Jimmy Damgaard in the HiCE-powered RBioL, following Davide DiMarco's injury.

"I still wish Davide a strong recovery. But Velocità has made a bold call with Jimmy, and knowing just how ferocious these new models can be, we never want to see any more drivers injured. The MkII variant, as I've heard, is no joke. I trust Nicolao's judgement, and we expect the same level of competition Davide had put up."

When asked if he believed Damgaard could carry the same spiritual weight DiMarco had shouldered for the team, Mr. Grant replied vaguely. He didn't want to get into grid politics, but here he was, the entire thing thrown at him as if it were a responsibility.

Mr. Grant had noticed that since Trampos began performing exceptionally well—especially following Luca's addition and the steady, strategic hand of his own leadership—the community and wider motorsport world had started to see him differently.

No longer just a competent figure on the pit wall, he was now being classified alongside the likes of Campanella, Finazzi, and Bujas as a four to five-star Team Principal.

Mr. Grant didn't know how to accept this reality that he had always pursued, but he thought things like this often came when one wasn't ready, and wasn't even realising it.

"They might just have a proper second ace on their hands. Let's just say we'll be watching Velocità closely. The field's heating up."

And with good reason. Even Luca was interviewed too on the matter of Jimmy Damgaard being confirmed as a super driver this season. Being the current leader of the Drivers' Standings, any major changes like this could affect his spot. Damgaard stepping in fully for DiMarco was more than a news update—it was a threat. So the press needed to hear Luca's thoughts.

"Luca, as the current championship leader, what are your thoughts on Jimmy Damgaard finally getting the nod to pilot the RBioL powered by the Tempesta MkII for Bueseno Velocità?"

"I guess it's a positive change for the team and Jimmy. He's earned it. He's been in that team for a while now. So, this was bound to happen, actually."

"Does the RBioL make him a bigger threat on track now?"

"Of course it does. Put the right driver in it, and yes… things shift."

"Do you feel pressure knowing Jimmy's not just in any car now?"

Luca remembered his and Damgaard's little rivalry, and how things haven't been settled, and would never be. At the start of this season, when he crashed and injured DiMarco, he feared Damgaard would take over the RBioL and execute some vengeance.

But the time for vengeance had gone, Luca thought. He was so close to calling himself a super driver too. And because of this, Jimmy Damgaard was no true threat at all, no more than Luigi and Ailbeart already.

"No pressure. I respect the challenge."

"So, how does this affect your mindset heading into St. Lawrence?"

"Same focus. Same goal. But I won't pretend like it doesn't change the grid."

At the end of the successful interview, Luca left the conference hall while exchanging respectful handshakes with officials, journalists, and even a few entities from rival outfits.

They were already in Canada, at Palais des Congrès de Montréal. This was where the interview was held, a venue in the heart of Canada's sole motorsport city.

The atmosphere was buzzing with formality, both inside and outside the premises. Luca, ever observant, recognised several familiar faces, including a tall, handsome Spaniard with salt-and-coal hair and a sparse beard.

"Mr. Lemaître. I haven't seen you in, like, forever."

Luca vigorously shook hands with Mr. Lemaître, who was happy to see him too. He looked around in search of Perla, but she wasn't present. Mr. Lemaître then introduced Luca to the small circle he'd been engaged with, their conversation easily making space for the sport's leading driver.

As Luca listened in politely, his gaze wandered across the premises, naturally scanning the sea of polished figures and sharp suits. His heart skipped a beat when he caught sight of that same Asian man from that car confrontation in the middle of London.

'What?!'

A part of Luca urged his limbs to move, but he naturally remained rooted. There the man was, moving with a group that surely looked like they were secretly up to no good.

Luca sighed, not wanting his assumptions to get in the way of his neutral observations. But still, he stared at the man. And eventually, the Asian man locked eyes with him.

The gaze lasted for a second alone. The man then frowned, slipped on his shades, smirked mockingly, and continued along with his entourage, led by a woman who exuded influence and poise.