Luca and Miles approached Turn 4, the sharp left-hander marking the start of the chicane. Luca knew what he had to do, his System's calculations making the situation more coherent. Miles held the inside line on exit, but if Luca could get right alongside him, P3 would be within reach. Bold, maybe reckless—most other F2 drivers might yield here.
There was no holding back. The intersection loomed, P3 easier to grab now than at any other point in the race.
"... Miles Bellingham has been defending that P3 ever since Ansel Hahn fell back, but Luca Rennick is pushing down... can he make it stick...?!"
Luca took a deep breath, flicking his wheel as his car began to slide. He caught a glimpse of Miles's black-and-golden car exiting the pit lane. His own car drifted wide, skidding into the origin of the turn with sheer force, Miles's car just a meter away.
