Vroom—vroom—
The roar of the engine surged through his veins like an electric current, tracing his nerve endings before rushing straight to his heart.
On his out-lap, Kai was in no hurry. Staying composed and intensely focused, he felt every granule of asphalt and every subtle ripple in the track surface unfolding beneath his tires.
In truth, while everyone in the paddock speculated on why Kai had delayed his appearance in Q3, wondering if Ferrari was playing tactics to counter Mercedes-Benz's aggression, there was no master plan.
Kai had simply been resting his eyes.
The relentless demands of recent weeks had taken a heavy toll, and he had been relying purely on his youth and grit to keep pushing at maximum intensity. After a restless night plagued by endless nightmares, his mental and physical state were far from ideal.
He simply had no energy to waste on Mercedes-Benz's mind games.
If Toto Wolff had known, it was hard to say what expression he would have made upon realizing his elaborate psychological traps were completely ignored.
Before stepping into the cockpit for qualifying, Kai realized he had to save his energy for when it mattered most. Rather than wasting focus on rival strategies, it made far more sense to look inward and dedicate his limited reserves entirely to his flying lap.
Furthermore, Kai was running on an extremely tight budget today, as a closer look at his session history revealed.
In Q1, he had gone out just once to complete two consecutive flying laps. In Q2, he went out twice, but aborted one of his flying laps purely to throw off his rivals.
Ever since Q3 began, he had been conserving his energy and steadying his breath. There was no mental visualization, just a complete clearing of his mind to stay light and relaxed. He intended to do just a single flying lap in Q3.
That was the plan, at least, and he hoped it would go smoothly so he wouldn't have to force a second push lap.
All the noise and political storms were completely shut out. Mekies ensured no external information reached Kai's ears, while Beauregard identified a perfect gap in traffic between the rival cars' two flying runs. The entire Spa circuit was clear, leaving the track wide open for Kai.
Then, Kai headed out.
Making full use of his out-lap, he calibrated his rhythm, sensing every feedback loop between car and track as his senses woke up. His mind felt attuned to every delicate breeze and every subtle contour of the circuit. Air, ground, machine, sight, smell, and touch merged seamlessly into one unified perception.
Thump. Thump.
The deep, heavy roar of the SF90 engine sounded like a crimson tide unleashing its power, fluidly tracing the lines of the circuit. Every gear mesh and mechanical vibration traveled along his nerves to his spine, allowing his hands and feet to feel every inch of the tarmac with crystal clarity.
Adjusting the fuel efficiency maps had indeed compromised raw power output, but the major upgrade package, the fourth of the season, had expanded the car's ultimate performance window. On a high-speed circuit, the aerodynamic efficiency was fully realized. G-forces and turbo response operated in perfect sync, making the car feel like a war chariot set ablaze the moment he stepped on the gas. Air flowed smoothly along the chassis, breaking free from aerodynamic drag as a surge of adrenaline shot straight to his head.
Breathing was forgotten, his pulse raced through his veins, and his muscles braced as every nerve read the feedback coming from the car.
Tire temperatures, air density, downforce, suspension load, track elevation, spatial awareness.
His focus was absolute.
He was ready.
The mechanical roar transformed into a rolling wave of heat that swept past Car 22, leaving a blazing slipstream surging down the pit straight.
Click—
The flying lap officially began.
Without hitting the brakes, Kai kept building speed as the SF90 plunged like a vivid crimson streak into Turn 1, the La Source hairpin. It whipped up a torrent of air that echoed between the main grandstand and the pit wall, forcing spectators to hold their breath as their eyes tracked the red silhouette sweeping from right to left.
The car pierced the apex of La Source like an arrow.
Memories flooded back, as the image of the young driver piloting the Number 7 Ferrari in 2017 seemed to overlap for a moment with the Number 22 chassis today.
Without missing a beat, Kai demonstrated how much he had evolved. He hadn't grown timid or overly cautious, just far more mature.
Reading every subtle feedback loop while keeping his eyes and ears open, he constructed a complete three-dimensional model of the circuit in his mind.
Brake!
Neither early nor late, he hit the braking point with millisecond precision. The coordination between braking and steering inputs was completely seamless. The car carved a smooth arc around the hairpin, pivoting smoothly before he even finished his intake of breath. Transitioning effortlessly from brake to throttle, he applied power to drive the car out of the corner, accelerating like a pouncing cheetah to push his speed to the absolute limit.
Vroom, vroom—Turn 1 was already behind him.
Vroom, vroom—Turn 2 flashed past in a blur.
Vroom, vroom—Eau Rouge was fast approaching.
Fragments of last night's nightmare rushed into his thoughts, but instead of panicking, Kai let a confident smile touch his lips, radiating an unstoppable resolve.
A nightmare? So what!
With fearless determination, he launched the SF90 toward the crest, using engine power and momentum to plunge straight into the compression at the bottom of the hill. Speed and force built toward an absolute peak, yet right at the crucial moment, he held his breath, breaking free from gravity to charge up the steep incline.
Acceleration, climb, compression, a flick through the S-curve, and he was through.
Kai touched the outer boundary of the SF90's performance window. Every bit of tire grip was mapped out in his mind, allowing him to make micro-corrections with surgical precision. Heavy G-forces slammed into him, pinning his body firmly against the seat like an electric shock, yet he found perfect balance within that overwhelming force.
At the top of the hill, the flat grey surface of the track seemed to cut straight into the sky. There was no sunlight, no shade, and no trees, just an open expanse with no visual reference points. Far from seeing the Kemmel Straight, the road ahead was momentarily invisible.
The memory remained vivid: only the brave could unlock that invisible doorway hanging in the void.
It had been true back then, and it remained true now.
His blood surged, yet the excitement didn't compromise his intense focus. If sight offered no clear guidance, he relied entirely on intuition and tactile feedback.
Throttle pinned to the floor.
The tires bit hard into the tarmac as engine power unleashed without reserve. That bright flash of red cut through the air with unstoppable force. In the space of a single breath, the car reached the top of the crest, looking for all the world as if it might take flight and leave gravity behind.
Ha!
Lungs locked in suspense, spectators watched in stunned silence as the red storm tore through the horizon, opening a gateway to a whole new dimension.
Right at the edge of the horizon where earth met sky, Kai made a smooth, deliberate input on the wheel.
His steering correction was fluid and precise to the left. Pushing at full throttle, the Number 22 Ferrari traced a brilliant line along the outer kerb. For a split second, time seemed to freeze, draining all color from the world until only that vivid red hue remained.
Vibrant, bold, and free, it pulsed like a beating heart.
Without a moment's hesitation, the car swept through Raidillon surrounded by a wave of heat, plunging straight onto the Kemmel Straight.
It looked remarkably effortless yet incredibly precise. Hypnotized eyes tracked the red silhouette as it stitched Eau Rouge and the Kemmel Straight back together, turning the broken horizon into one continuous, flowing line.
Vroom, vroom—the surge of adrenaline reached a fever pitch.
"Incredible!"
Crofty stood up from his seat, completely swept away by the moment.
Thump, thump, thump—his racing heart pounded faster and faster as the car crested the hill.
Thump—for a moment, time stood still. Noise faded, breathing stopped, and the world fell silent, leaving only the red shadow gliding gracefully along the track to trace the unbelievable layout of Spa.
Thump! Thump! Thump! Hearts resumed beating like hammers against chests. With the throttle pinned, the F1 power unit pushed its output to the extreme. Car 22 seemed to transcend physical limits, tearing through the air as it surged down the Kemmel Straight.
The optimized power unit delivered continuous energy in the high-rev range. At maximum speed, Kai felt subtle vibrations through the steering wheel as the car's rear end danced over bumps. Making delicate adjustments to maintain balance through the turbulent air, he kept the car planted on the track, tearing through the wind like a crimson war chariot.
Buzz—buzz—
Engine roar and aerodynamic turbulence merged together as the circuit laid submissively beneath the wheels of Car 22. In that moment, he was the only driver on earth.
Then came the split time.
"Sector 1! Purple!"
"29.904 seconds!"
"Unbelievable! I mean—" Crofty drew a sharp breath. "Unbelievable! He becomes the very first driver this weekend to break the thirty-second barrier in Sector 1!"
"Fluid, precise, and executed to perfection! Kai has unlocked peak performance right on his very first flying lap in Q3!"
The air was shattered by the relentless roar of the engine. Heartbeats, breathing, and ambient noise dissolved into a chaotic wave of heat. Viewers found themselves completely captivated by the red shadow, drawn deep into the storm unfolding on track.
Les Combes was fast approaching.
Staying composed and intensely focused, Kai brought the precision of a surgeon to his entry point for Turn 5.
Neither early nor late, it was timed to perfection. The front tires kissed the kerb precisely, and as he turned in, the rear stepped out just a fraction. He held the dynamic traction of the rear wheels comfortably in his grip, applying the throttle with a smooth, linear input that made the car look like it was performing a graceful ballet through the chicane.
With a swift direction change, the red silhouette pirouetted through the corner like a spinning skirt. Bright colors danced at the entry of Turn 5 before the car hugged the outer curve of Turn 7, breaking free from the chicane to embrace the open track ahead.
The aerodynamic package upgraded over the summer break was making its debut at Spa. High-speed downforce allowed the driver to push the limits further than ever. Although the peak operating window remained narrow, the stability at the top end had clearly expanded.
Kai's fingertips twitched with microscopic adjustments, holding the wheel with sculpted stability to fit the chicane's contours perfectly. The car emerged from the complex like a dragon rising from the water, breaking through the air as a gentle squeeze of the throttle settled the eager rear end.
Boom!
The engine roared, and Crofty's heart pounded in tandem as passion and excitement surged through his body, leaving him trembling slightly.
Glaring intently at the red shadow exiting Les Combes onto the straight, speed and passion collided in spectacular fashion.
Brundle's voice came through, sounding almost ethereal from the commentary booth.
"Extreme yet elegant."
"It's like dancing on the edge of a knife! He built maximum speed along the Kemmel Straight, and then at Les Combes, Kai chose to challenge the absolute limits of both car and circuit, utilizing every millimeter of track width, line, and entry angle. A minor error in execution could have caused a massive crash."
"And yet!"
"This dance on the fine line between order and chaos is performed with such grace and lightness. In Kai's hands, the upgraded SF90 is demonstrating unmatched competitiveness. The high-speed flow of Spa feels as though it's been given a soul, with the car becoming a natural extension of Kai's body. It's leading the circuit in a high-speed tango. This isn't just a lap, it's a performance, a breathtaking display of pure skill!"
Buzz, buzz—Brundle could no longer distinguish between the engine's roar and the pounding of his own heart as he stared at the Ferrari red on the straight.
It was no wonder the alliance led by Mercedes-Benz had targeted Ferrari, and no wonder public opinion had so easily believed Mercedes-Benz even before the FIA's investigation.
The Ferrari through high-speed sections was nothing short of a work of art, resembling a fine painting where every movement was captivating to watch. It was fluid, fast, and exposed the purest essence of motorsport in a way that made the blood run hot.
Even a seasoned commentator like Brundle, who was far past his rookie days of believing racing was merely about raw engine power, found himself deeply moved. His understanding of F1 had reached a higher level, yet he had to admit that stripping away all the politics and returning to pure, unadulterated speed gave motorsport a uniquely mesmerizing quality.
In Kai's hands, that piece of machinery shone with incredible brilliance. The rhythmic shifts in momentum transcended visual stimulation, turning into an auditory, tactile, and almost sensory experience of extreme speed.
Every pore opened as a thrill ran straight up his spine.
On track, Car 22 rounded Turn 7, letting gravity pull it down the slope as speed poured out like a waterfall against the howling wind.
Kai remained fully locked in. His rest before the session had been designed precisely to ensure 200% concentration for a moment like this. His nerve endings picked up minute feedback on tire temperatures through track vibrations and subtle shifts in balance, giving him real-time mastery over the chassis.
The front tires were running slightly hot, but the rears sat perfectly in their operating window.
Instead of fighting the car, he trusted his instincts, letting it drift lightly with the downward momentum. Floating low through the air currents and engine power, the slight weave at the rear remained completely under control.
Turn 10, Bruxelles!
It was a medium-speed off-camber hairpin that harbored hidden traps, where subtle elevation changes at high speed could easily unsettle a car's balance if the driver wasn't careful.
Focus. Immersion. Sensing the tarmac's feedback through the tires in real time required both feeling and anticipation, allowing him to manage weight transfers over track ripples before they occurred. Millimeter-perfect steering adjustments kept the car locked onto the racing line, exiting the corner to unleash engine power once more.
Pouhon approached, its imposing layout looming large—
A double-apex left-hander, it stood as one of the purest high-speed sections at Spa, where modern F1 cars could sweep through at nearly full throttle.
It tested not just driver skill, but raw courage and precision.
G-forces slammed into Kai's chest like a heavy wave, pinning his body flush against the seat back. Extreme forces pressed against his neck and shoulders, making it almost impossible to breathe as sweat gathered on his brow in the intense heat, yet his eyes never blinked.
He remained completely locked in, entirely selfless.
The upgraded SF90's high-speed aerodynamics showed its teeth once more, as downforce held the car firmly like an invisible hand. Yet within that extreme state, Kai found a sense of lightness:
A slight adjustment on the wheel redistributed the suspension load, allowing the car to glide past the apex without a hint of slide or understeer. Wind howled in his ears while the friction between rubber and asphalt sang a delicate whisper, offering the exact key needed to master the track.
The world fell quiet around him as everything along the circuit seemed to pause, watching the red shadow of Car 22 in awe.
It wasn't just the commentary booth and grandstands; the pit lane was equally captivated. Wolff, Horner, Hamilton, Verstappen, and Leclerc were all watching intently. A qualifying session filled with endless political drama and chaos finally reached its grand crescendo.
Effortlessly capturing the spotlight, an invisible beam seemed to shine down on the Number 22 Ferrari like a born monarch.
It was clean and pure, with Kai's driving showing no wasted flourish. Yet it was so fluid and connected, striking that perfect balance where nothing was redundant and nothing was lacking. Machine and track intertwined around Kai's inputs, flowing with incredible harmony.
Over his year in GP3 and a year in F1, fans familiar with Kai had witnessed his top-tier performances more than once, marveling at his brilliant flashes of genius.
Today, however, felt different.
Returning to Spa after the summer break, Kai drove with a remarkable sense of composure. He appeared relaxed yet locked in, with every input flowing naturally. This flying lap in Q3 operated on a whole new level, revealing a completely transformed driver.
Pouhon led into the Fagnes chicane, where a wide line utilized every inch of track width. The coordination between steering and throttle was refined and precise, making a high-wire act look like a casual stroll through a garden.
The transitions between corners were remarkably light and agile. Beyond the straights, the SF90's inherent advantages in high-speed sweeps were fully realized under Kai's direction. The beauty of Spa's high-speed sections was mesmerizing, making it impossible to look away or even take a breath.
It was absolute perfection, flowing seamlessly from one corner to the next!
Until an exclamation echoed from afar like a beam of light tearing through the darkness, traveling across the landscape to reach the Ardennes:
"Sector 2! Purple!"
The roar echoed repeatedly, surging closer until it struck the eardrums and broke the spell, releasing the world from its stillness.
A wave of goosebumps washed over the crowd.
Anthoine Hubert stared intently at the broadcast screen, his clenched fists tightening even further as his neatly trimmed nails pressed deep into his palms.
Yet he felt no pain whatsoever.
It was the only way he could maintain a shred of control over the surging excitement in his chest.
This was the Kai he admired, the Kai he relentlessly pursued, and the Kai he longed to challenge on equal terms on track.
It wasn't just about raw speed, or driving a Ferrari rocket ship. It was a display of courage, resolve, and a commanding spirit that lit up the entire world. In his pursuit of speed and ultimate limits, he extracted everything from car and circuit, making even the sun seem dim by comparison.
"1:14.233!"
"Following a 29.904-second opening sector, Kai continues his purple sweep through the most technically demanding second sector, setting a new benchmark for the fastest lap at the Belgian Grand Prix."
"A completely clean sector with no hesitation, uncertainty, or wasted movement. It's a masterclass in combining speed, technique, control, and explosive power!"
It wasn't just about setting purple sectors. If Brundle remembered correctly, Kai's time through the first two sectors was nearly half a second faster than Hamilton's.
Through just two sectors, Kai was displaying absolute dominance, leaving his rivals far behind.
Of course, that didn't guarantee Ferrari would outpace Mercedes-Benz in the final sector. Anything could happen before the lap was completed, and the advantage built up front could easily be lost in the final sector, making it too early to call.
Yet Brundle's mind was racing as he scrambled to pull up Hamilton's sector times for a direct comparison.
There was simply no time. Brundle kept his eyes glued to the screen, unwilling to miss a single second of the action.
"Just as the Mercedes drivers showed an unstoppable surge, Kai has stood firm under immense pressure, channeling the same raw courage he displayed during his brilliant Spa debut in 2017. Fearless, bold, and unstoppable, his staggering talent commands everyone's attention."
"Unbelievable—"
Brundle held his head in his hands, trembling with excitement.
"Simply unbelievable!"
Inside the Mercedes garage, Wolff stood stone-faced and motionless, revealing no outward emotion as he kept his composure.
Yet his hands were secretly sweating.
Kai was still Kai.
Mercedes-Benz had built a heavy wall of pressure to corner Ferrari's young drivers, but Kai consistently found a way to unleash his potential in dire circumstances. He didn't just withstand the pressure; he repelled it with unstoppable force, dumping the burden right back onto Mercedes-Benz.
If Kai completed this lap ahead of Hamilton, Mercedes-Benz would find themselves standing on the edge of a cliff...
No! No, no, no!
Wolff quickly cut off those intrusive thoughts. He couldn't afford to hesitate or show fear; he needed to take the initiative.
He refused to sit back and watch passively.
Without waiting for Kai to finish Sector 3, Wolff opened his radio channel. "Bono!"
All the external noise, however, was completely irrelevant to Kai.
His blood boiled with adrenaline as it burned through his veins. Although the upgraded car wasn't fully dialled in yet, working through three practice sessions, Q1, and Q2 had allowed him to get a firm handle on it, entering a state of absolute focus.
He felt a deep resonance between car and track. Every bump in the road sent clear signals up his spine to his brain, while every airflow matched the chassis lines perfectly, allowing him to glide through the air and listen to the murmurs of the circuit.
The remnants of last night's nightmare burned away, transforming into fuel and momentum to challenge his limits.
He was chasing the sun.
Sector 3 presented Spa's final trial, where the track opened up into a high-speed stretch that was both wide and treacherous. In theory, it was a full-throttle section, yet pushing at maximum velocity exposed drivers to hidden traps. The high-speed left at Blanchimont remained one of the most thrilling sweeps on the calendar, where cars swept through at over three hundred kilometers per hour while partial blind spots and centrifugal forces tested a driver's nerve.
Eau Rouge was world-famous, but for professional drivers, Blanchimont's thrills were every bit its equal.
Kai was feeling immensely energized.
After adjusting the fuel efficiency maps, all three practice sessions had been dedicated to gathering data and building race models to understand the SF90's true pace and race competitiveness.
Because Mercedes-Benz and Red Bull had been hiding their true pace behind smokescreens, Ferrari had ignored their rivals to focus entirely on themselves. Q3 was the ultimate test to see the SF90's true potential, and after conquering the first two sectors, the final challenge awaited.
The power unit roared without restraint in the upper rev range.
Buzz—
The SF90 shot into Blanchimont like an arrow released from a bow!
Ahead, the track seemed to merge with the sky, offering no clear reference points. Visual and physical senses were tested to their limits, leaving only instinct and experience to guide his inputs. Maintaining the throttle while making delicate steering corrections, he kept the front tire temperatures in their ideal window. The car naturally rolled with the curves at high speed, as G-forces, momentum, and aerodynamics harmonized like a sweeping symphony.
He danced along with it.