My Formula 1 System-Chapter 391: S2 British GP. 6

The sound of shattering glass resonated throughout Stadhaven. The piercing sound was so alarming that even nonchalant VIP spectators had their attention stolen. Everyone's eyes were wide open, the shards and fragments of broken glass littered at the entrance of Turn 16, the attention of thousands.

"...THERE IS DANGER ON THE TRACK...!"

It was as simple as this: Luigi and DiMarco emphatically grazed each other at that tug of war for the inside line. Their side mirrors—opposite ones involved—were decimated upon contact, their frames first razed and the glasses freed to shatter, fragmenting even more once they hit the hot asphalt.

Luca understood why his Spatial Awareness had awkwardly stimulated just like it did in the Belgian GP when Luigi posed that illicit threat.

A carnage like shattered glass on the asphalt wasn't that common, but it still occurred now and then. It reminded Luca of the Formula 2 Spanish Grand Prix from last year in Mandalora, when something similar happened as the main anamnesis of that crazy race. Back then, since Luca could recall well, the contact victims were Sean Aaronson and Albert Derstappen.

"...LOOK AT THAT AGGRESSION...!" the commentary had hollered, and the whopping, supersize crowd in Mandalora roared loud enough to shake pillars.

One thing about broken glass on the track was that it never solely affected those drivers who were engaged in the antecedental collision. Up to two, three, or even more drivers would be drastically plagued as well, probably to the extent of annihilation that could end their race.

The F2 Spanish GP last July was a good example. Every driver currently on the F2 grid could still vividly remember how the glass incident consumed the frontrunners, including Ansel, Luca's teammate. It was termed a widespread predicament, the very one that didn't get to Luca, and he used it to his advantage—and won the race!

However, this race was different. The glass got to him.

[System Diagnostic]

[Tyre Surface Integrity: Compromised]

[Recommendation: Box Immediately or Reduce Load on Rear Corners]

"...oh my goodness!! What in the world just happened at Turn 16?!"

"That's shattered glass on the track—shattered glass, people! Right at the entrance of the turn! This is not something we see every race! Look closely... pieces are everywhere! And that—yes, that—was contact between Antonio Luigi and Davide DiMarco!"

"Absolutely ferocious stuff between the two Italians—no love lost there at all! They touched, mirror-to-mirror, just inches apart, and that's all it took. The side mirrors disintegrated on impact—frames obliterated, the glass instantly torn from its casing and sprayed onto the asphalt like razor shards!"

All three of them—Luca, Luigi, and DiMarco—were the first to be affected by the glass collage, with DiMarco suffering the most severe damage, causing his car to jounce violently, almost without control. During the collision, the nature of their intersection, especially the angle at which their cars met combined with the direction of their speed and the swirling wind, all acted as agents that victimised DiMarco far more than Luigi, who got off a bit lighter. Luca, meanwhile, was only hit by a few scattered fragments that flicked across to his side.

"Fuck!" every single one of them hissed in unison. Imagine not even hearing the glass break, but suddenly feeling a raw vibration erupt from under your wheels; that was Luca's experience. It felt like driving over a minefield of invisible caltrops, like a rubble of disaster camouflaged beneath momentum.

When they exited the danger zone, the consequence of the glass on the tires became vividly evident—Luca's warning systems were blaring nonstop, DiMarco's car was staggering left to right like a drunken beast, nudging both Luca and Luigi as it struggled to stay straight, and Luigi himself was barely holding on to grip by leaning the car's weight on the curbs.

"OUUUUUUUHHHHHHHHHH!"

The crowd roared as three other drivers ran over the sea of broken tiny pieces of glass!

Di Renzo! Derfflinger! James Lockwood!

Unlike the original trio, whose contact happened during the peak of movement—causing the glass to scatter in angular, unpredictable patterns—the second batch of drivers ran directly into the heart of it. Their tires made a flat-on impact with the glass-laced asphalt, no angles, no deflection, but full contact. Every shard and fragment pierced through like darts into rubber. As a result, their damage was even worse than those who had caused the incident.

"...this is absolute chaos...!"

Di Renzo lost control of his Ferrari and helplessly drifted through the remaining of the maze. Derfflinger struggled desperately with his steering, his hands visibly wrestling the wheel, but the damage to his tires made it impossible to hold a line. He eventually rammed straight into Di Renzo. The impact was harsh and violent, an external push that thrusted Di Renzo more off balance and flung him directly into Lockwood's path.

Lockwood himself was already completely destabilized, skidding on compromised rubber and half traction. There was no way he could evade Di Renzo or prevent the inevitable second collision.

Di Renzo was hit a second time, and this one was far more noxious. The carbon fibre damage was massive, scattering in volume even greater than the glass incident. Di Renzo's rear wing detached and fell off uselessly, clattering across the track, while Lockwood's front wing also did the same on impact. All three cars screeched terminally through the final seconds of Turn 16, with countless tiny glass fragments still embedded in their worn tires, dragging trails of chaos behind them.

"...OH MY GOD..!"

"... LOOK AT THE MESS! THIS IS ABSOLUTELY UNREAL...!"

Chaos had found its stage in the British Grand Prix, of all races. The entire venue of Stadhaven stood suspended in disbelief as a Renault, a Ferrari, and an Audi screeched to a stop, thick smoke rising into the air from sources no one could pinpoint in particular.

Marko Ignatova, Yokouchi Yūichirō, and the others could count themselves fortunate. By the time they arrived at the chaotic scene, they instinctively veered off the track, driving across the grass to leap over the mess. It was an illegal move, but it would be overlooked because the yellow flags were already waving anyway.